Page 3 of Hellraiser

“Put it on and hold on tight,” I instructed.

As the engine roared to life, I peeled out of the alley, tires squealing. The wind whipped past us as we sped away from the bar, the woman clinging tightly to me. I felt her petite body trembling, but I knew she was safe with me.

We rode off into the night, leaving the danger and chaos behind. My heart bucked against its reins, but I felt a sense of relief knowing I could protect her.

I might’ve blown my cover, but I’d do it all over again to save her, and I don’t even know her fucking name.

As we sped awayfrom the bar, I clung to the handsome stranger, my heart throbbing recklessly with fear. The cold night air whipped my hair past my face, but I barely felt it. My mind was still reeling from the chaos we’d escaped and being saved by my unlikely hero. As the bar faded into the background, I slowly processed what happened.

Who is this man, and why did he save me?

As we rode, I saw the patch on his leather jacket. It was different from the ones the other bikers wore inside the bar. The emblem stood out—a demonic dog with fiery red eyes and sharp teeth set to strike. Below it, the words “Hell’s Savages MC” were embroidered in bold, red letters.

Hell’s Savages…I’ve heard of them. They were rivals to the Chicago Outlaws. But why would he risk his life to save me?

My mind raced, connecting the dots of what I’d witnessed. The story I’d been chasing—the rumors of the Chicago Outlaws trafficking women—had always seemed like whispers in the dark. But after what I witnessed in that bar, the insight hit me like a punch in the gut. It was all true. Every man in there all but undressed me with their stomach churning glares.The Chicago Outlaws are trafficking women. I saw that young girl with my own eyes. This is the story I’ve been looking for that could bring my career back from the dead.

I’d been following a lead, hoping to uncover the truth. Never in a million years did I expect to be thrust straight into the middle of it. The fear I felt inside that bar was mixed with a burning determination to expose the Outlaws for the sick criminals they were and finally seal an internal wound that had never healed. Somehow, I hoped by bringing justice to the women they’d harmed, that would somehow suffice for me as well since the teacher who’d sexually violated me in high school never saw repercussions for his heinous actions.

As we rode through the night, I tightened my grip around the vigilante’s waist, feeling a strange sense of safety despite the danger we’d narrowly escaped. Words couldn’t express how grateful I was for his intervention. I owed him my life.

We rode for what felt like an eternity before he finally slowed down, pulling off the road and into a secluded spot. He cut the engine, and the sudden silence was almost deafening. I drowned my lungs with air, trying to steady my disorderly heart as I lifted the helmet off my head.

The man turned to me, his expression filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, still trying to find my voice. “I-I think so. Thank you. Y-you saved my life. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

His piercing gray eyes softened slightly, complementing his smooth, rich brown skin. Still, his demeanor remained serious. It was the first time I’d gotten a good look at him up close. A well-proportioned nose sat in the middle of his angular face with thick well-groomed brows that framed his captivating gray eyes. My gaze dropped to his full lips and thick beard that wrapped around his jawline, adding to his commanding presence.

His long locs were freshly twisted at the roots and styled in thick individual braids that stopped in the center of his muscular chest. He had a muscular build with broad shoulders and was tall enough to easily stand out in a crowd.

“You shouldn’t have been there in the first fuckin’ place. What were you thinking? That bar is dangerous, especially for someone like you.”

Feeling embarrassed, I looked away as he scolded me.

“I know. My car broke down, and I was trying to find a phone to call for help. I didn’t realize what kind of place it was.”

He ran a hand through his long dreads, frustration evident in his chiseled expression.

“You need to be more careful. Those mothafuckas wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt you, rape you, or worse.”

I shivered at the thought, reverting to the terrifying moments inside the bar.

“I understand. But why did you help me? You’re wearing a different patch. You’re with the Hell’s Savages, right?”

He nodded, his eyes locking onto mine. “Dreyson. Niggas call me Hellraiser, but you can call me Dre.” He introduced himself.“I’m the VP.”

“Mercy,” I replied. “Mercy Harris.”

“And yeah, I’m with the Hell’s Savages, but we say the Savages. And I couldn’t just stand by and let them hurt you. It didn’t sit right with me.”

A surge of gratitude and relief bloomed inside me. I saw why he’d gotten the name Hellraiser. Despite the danger, this man—Dre—and his MC brothers had raised Cain and Abel, and risked everything to save me. I took a deep breath, deciding to trust him with the truth.

“Thank you again. I’m a journalist. I’ve been investigating rumors about the Outlaws trafficking women. The last thing I expected was to find myself in the middle of it.”

His expression hardened, anger flashing in his gray eyes.

“You’re lucky you got out of there alive. Those mothafuckas are ruthless. But if you’re looking for proof, I guess you’ve got it now.”

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