Page 3 of Fear

He seems like a good kid, but it will take many battles before he can get to a point where trust, loyalty, and an unspoken promise to defend the club, no matter the cost binds the brothers together.

Chapter 2

The room was dark, the air thick with dust and the lingering scent of mildew. Sofia pressed her back against the rough wooden wall, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The abandoned apartment she had found was barely liveable, there was a mattress on the floor, a single cracked window, the only light coming from the dim streetlamp outside. She hadn’t slept in two days, too afraid to close her eyes, too paranoid that Grant’s men would burst through the door at any second.

Her fingers trembled as she ran them through her long, dark brown hair. She was twenty-six, but exhaustion and fear had aged her beyond her years. Her blue eyes, once vibrant, now held the weight of terror and loss. Her clothes were dirty, torn in places from her escape, her once-pristine jeans now smudged with dirt and dried blood. She had always been strong, a fighter, but now she felt cornered, hunted.

Her sister, Elena, had always been the tough one. Protective, reckless, and fiercely loyal. She had been everything Sofia wasn’t—bold where Sofia was cautious, daring where Sofia was reserved. Sofia had idolized her, even when Elena had made bad choices, even when she had gotten involved with the wrong people. Even when she had fallen in with the Shadow Riders MC.

Sofia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the memory that clawed its way to the surface. But it was useless. She was backthere, in that dimly lit room, the scent of whiskey and sweat thick in the air.

Elena was on her knees, her face bloodied, her dark curls falling over her shoulders in tangles. Her breathing was ragged, but her defiance hadn’t dimmed. Grant stood before her, a sneer curling his lips, his cold, calculating gaze locked on Elena like she was nothing more than an insect beneath his boot.

"You had your chance, Elena," Grant said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You knew the rules. You knew what would happen if you crossed me."

Elena spat blood onto the floor, lifting her chin despite the bruises marring her once beautiful face. "Fuck your rules, Grant. I don’t owe you shit."

The slap echoed through the room, sending Elena’s head snapping to the side. Sofia, bound and gagged in the corner, screamed against the rag stuffed in her mouth, her body thrashing against the ropes cutting into her wrists. She had been helpless, useless as she watched Grant’s men beat her sister within an inch of her life.

"Your sister thought she could steal from me," Grant continued, flexing his fingers as if the slap had barely phased him. "Thought she could take my money and walk away. You don’t walk away from me, Elena."

Sofia’s heart pounded, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way out, any way out. But the gun in Grant’s hand told her there was none.

Elena turned her battered face toward Sofia, her eyes filled with something almost peaceful. She knew. She knew this was it. "Sof," she whispered. "Run."

The gunshot rang out before Sofia could even register what had happened. One moment, Elena was there. The next, she was crumpled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading beneath her.

Sofia had screamed, the sound raw, guttural, something primal that had ripped through her soul. Grant had barely spared her a glance before turning to his men. "Get rid of her."

But Sofia hadn’t waited. With adrenaline and grief coursing through her veins, she had fought, kicking, biting, and clawing until she broke free. She had run, her legs barely holding her up as she burst out of the warehouse and into the cold night. The sound of boots pounding against pavement chased her, but she had managed to lose them, slipping into the shadows and disappearing.

Sofia’s breath hitched as she snapped back to the present, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She had barely escaped that night. And now, she was alone, with nowhere to turn. The police? They were in Grant’s pocket. No one would believe her. Even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. He had people everywhere. If she tried to run, he would find her.

Her hands clenched into fists. She couldn’t keep living like this—afraid, running, waiting for the inevitable. She needed help. She needed someone who wouldn’t sell her out.

Her phone sat on the floor next to her, the screen cracked, the battery barely holding on. She hesitated for only a moment before she grabbed it and dialled the only person she could trust.

"Alaska," she whispered, her voice breaking when she heard the familiar voice on the other end.

"Sofia?" Alaska’s tone immediately shifted, laced with concern."What’s going on? Are you okay?"

Sofia swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. "No. I’m not okay, Alaska. Elena’s dead. She got involved with a motorcycle club and they killed her, and I saw it happen. He tried to kill me too, but I ran. I barely got away, and now his men are looking for me. They won’t stop until I’m dead."

Silence. Then a sharp intake of breath from Alaska. "Jesus, Sof."

"I don’t know what to do," Sofia continued, her voice shaking. "I thought about going to the police, but they’re in his pocket. If I try, they’ll just hand me over to him. I’m out of options, Alaska. I’m so fucking scared."

Alaska didn’t hesitate. "You listen to me right now. You’re coming to me. Where the hell are you?"

Tears burned Sofia’s eyes as she tried to keep her voice steady. "I don’t know. Some abandoned building on the east side. I can’t stay here, Alaska. Grant—he killed Elena. I saw it. He’s after me now."

Silence on the other end. Then a sharp inhale. "Jesus Christ, Sof. Are you hurt?"

"No," Sofia lied, wiping at her face. "But I can’t keep running. I don’t know where to go."

"Listen to me," Alaska said firmly. "You’re coming to me. Right now. I’m calling Dash. The club—they’ll keep you safe. You hear me?"

Sofia swallowed hard. "Are you sure? I don’t want to bring trouble to you."

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