Chapter Two
Jo
The wind cut through me like a razor, the darkness swallowing me whole. I walked fast, my boots pounding against the cold pavement. My breath came in short gasps, fogging up the air as I glanced over my shoulder for the hundredth time. I’d finally found the courage to run. It didn’t mean I was safe.
“Hey, sweetheart!” The sound of rowdy laughter and footsteps made my heart race. A group of men, maybe four or five of them, swaggered toward me like they owned the entire town. I could smell the booze and cheap cologne from here. I wasn’t going to be their next victim. Not tonight, not ever.
“Looks like we got ourselves a little bird,” one of the men hollered, his tone dripping with malice.
My insides twisted into knots, but I wouldn’t show them an ounce of fear. I changed direction, ducking into a nearby alleyway. It was dark and smelled like piss and garbage, but it was better than facing those pricks. I pushed myself farther into the shadows, praying they wouldn’t follow. I hadn’t escaped one abusive asshole only to fall prey to a group of them.
My hands trembled like a damn leaf, clutching my bag so tight my knuckles turned white. I had to hide, find a place to disappear before they came looking. My breaths were shallow gasps, barely filling my lungs as I scanned the alley for any sign of danger.
“Where’d she go?” one of the men called out from the street, his voice all too close.
A rat scurried past my boot, and I stifled a yelp. Focus, Jo . I’d been through worse. Hiding spots weren’t in abundance here, just dumpsters and some old crates.
Footsteps echoed, growing louder with each second. They were coming, those Goddamn bastards. I pressed myself against the wall, praying they wouldn’t see me. My heart pounded and adrenaline pumped through my body.
“Come on, sweetheart,” one of them taunted, his words slurred. “Don’t be shy.”
Shy? Right. It wouldn’t occur to them I didn’t feel honored by their interest. What woman would want to be groped by the likes of them?
“Leave her alone, man,” another said, but he didn’t sound too convinced. Probably just wanted to save face, pretend he wasn’t as bad as the rest.
“Shut up,” the first guy snapped. “I know she’s around here somewhere.”
With every ounce of strength I had, I shoved one of the crates in front of me, hoping it’d buy me some time. It wasn’t much, but maybe, just maybe, it’d be enough.
“Hey! Over there!” one of them shouted, and I knew I’d been spotted.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, bracing myself for whatever came next. There was no way I was going down without a fight. I hadn’t survived my asshole ex only to end up losing to these drunks.
Except, I heard them run off in the other direction. It seemed they’d mistaken someone else for me. As much as I pitied the woman, I didn’t dare come out of hiding. I waited, tense and listening for any sounds in the alley.
Right as I thought it might be safe to come out, I heard more people entering the alley. I hoped they’d keep going, pass by me without noticing my presence.
But they lingered, and then I heard harsh voices and a grunt of pain. Everything in me screamed I should run. But I couldn’t ignore the sound of fists meeting flesh, the grunts and curses echoing throughout the alley. I pressed myself tighter against the wall, straining to hear what was going on.
I edged closer, peeking around the corner. My breath caught in my throat as I saw them -- five guys, all covered in ink. I thought a few looked like gang-related symbols. I’d seen that same tag around town in a few spots. They surrounded a man who tried to fight back, but he was outnumbered and outmatched.
Had they been following me too and that person got in the way? Or had he been their intended victim? Even if I asked, it was doubtful they’d tell me the truth. Not that I really wanted to have a conversation with them.
Jo, what the hell are you doing? Not your business . A sweat broke out on my skin. I should turn and run, get out before they noticed me. But something inside me kept me rooted to the spot.
I couldn’t just sit back and watch. I’d feel like an accomplice if I didn’t at least try to do something.
“Get off him!” I yelled, my words loud and sharp. My legs shook, but I stepped out of hiding, standing tall and holding my chin up. I hoped like hell they didn’t realize I was scared.
“Who the fuck is this?” one of them sneered, looking me over like some piece of trash he was about to throw away.
“Leave him alone,” I said again, my voice coming out a little steadier. “Or I swear to God, you’ll regret it.”
The one who seemed to be in charge eyed me, and for some reason, it felt like he might know who I was. There was something in his eyes that said he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see me.
I really hoped they wouldn’t call my bluff. Even I knew I didn’t stand a chance against them. Hell, I’d hidden from the drunks who couldn’t even walk straight. Now I was taking on gang members? It really wasn’t my night.
“Fuck off,” another one snapped. They looked at each other, clearly not sure what to do. They hadn’t thought anyone would interfere, and now I was a complication they hadn’t anticipated.
Which meant I had a chance to make a difference. No one ever stepped in to save me, but maybe I could help this one person. I didn’t know if it would matter in the grand scheme of things. At least I would know I’d tried.
“Run!” I shouted at the guy they’d been beating on. He looked up, blood streaming down his face. I saw the hesitation in his eyes, but then he gave a brisk nod and scampered up off the ground. Without even so much as a glance back, he took off, running like a bat out of hell. I kept my gaze locked on the men. Putting myself between them and the man they were beating hadn’t been my greatest idea, but I hadn’t seen another way to handle it. Ignoring the situation hadn’t been an option.
Relief flooded me for a moment. I’d done it! I’d actually managed to help someone. The irony wasn’t lost on me, since I hadn’t been able to save myself for so many years.
The group of men eyed me, anger blazing in their eyes. Yeah, I hadn’t thought about this part. I could run, but I had a feeling they’d catch me. I may very well have dug my own grave. Either way, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Think you’re a fucking hero, huh?” one of them snarled, his fists clenched tight.
No, I wasn’t a hero. I’d just wanted to give that poor man a fighting chance. No one deserved to be beaten like that. My heart raced as I prepared to either stand my ground or take off running. But without a place to hide, it wouldn’t do me much good.
“Big mistake, bitch,” one of them said, stepping closer to me.
My gaze darted around the alley, looking for anything that could give me an edge, a way to survive. That’s when I spotted it -- a broken bottle glinting in the dim light. I grabbed it without hesitation, brandishing it like a weapon. Better than nothing at all.
“Come on, then.” I hoped they couldn’t tell how terrified I felt right now. Maybe if I pretended to be brave, then it would make them hesitate.
“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” one of them said with a twisted grin. “This should be fun.”
Fun? Shit. These men weren’t going to let me off easy. In fact, they might be worse than my ex. Why hadn’t I just minded my own business? I’d survived before, and I would this time too. Whatever came my way, I’d keep getting back up. The day I decided to stay down was the day I knew I’d die. And I wasn’t ready for that yet.
My grip tightened on the broken bottle as the first one lunged at me, his fist aiming for my face. I dodged to the side and jabbed the glass into his arm. He roared in pain, blood gushing from the wound.
“Fucking bitch!” he screamed, clutching his arm.
“I don’t want to fight all of you. I just want to be on my way.”
One of them spat on the ground, sizing me up. “Then you should have thought of that before you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.”
He came at me, snatching a handful of my hair. The man yanked my head back, and I reached for his hand, sinking my nails into his skin. He hauled back his other hand and slapped me across the face. My ears rang, and my cheek felt like it was on fire.
I slashed at him with the broken bottle, slicing up his stomach and anywhere else I could reach. He finally released me, just in time for another to step in. I kept swinging, doing my best to hold them off. Blood spattered the alley walls and the ground.
My head ached, and I could feel my energy waning. If I didn’t find a way to run them off or ditch them, then they’d get the upper hand. It wouldn’t be long now before I dropped.
I slashed the next one across the cheek. He screamed and fell back against the wall.
A siren sounded in the distance. “Stupid cunt isn’t worth it,” one of the men said, glancing over his shoulder. “But we know what you look like, and we’ll be watching. When you least expect it, we’ll snatch you up and give you a night you won’t forget.”
My skin crawled at his words. The men backed off and disappeared into the darkness. My hand shook and I dropped the broken bottle, a sob catching in my throat. Would I ever be safe? Why did men think I was a toy for them to use as they pleased?
Now that the fight was over, I felt every ache in my body. The bruises from Eddie’s last outburst still lingered on my skin, and so did the cuts. He was a brutal bastard, and always took what he wanted.
I needed to find a place to hide. I’d need to rest, and then figure out my next move. I didn’t know how long it would take them to find me. For that matter, the man I’d been running from to begin with would also be searching for me. My ex, Eddie, wasn’t going to let me go easily. I had no doubt he already had men hunting me.
My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to walk out of the alley, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. Now that I’d finally broken free from Eddie, I refused to lie down and die. I’d fought too hard to reach this point. But I knew I wouldn’t survive on my own. Not for long.
I needed help. Someone who wouldn’t fuck me over, or back down when Eddie came for me. A protector. How the hell was I supposed to find one of those in a place like Warren, Tennessee? The politicians were as corrupt as could be, and I knew damn well the police wouldn’t help me. Not unless I had someone backing me who carried some weight around here.
As I stepped out onto another dimly lit street, the hum of distant engines caught my ear. Something about that sound made my heart race with a different kind of excitement -- I couldn’t think of anything it could be other than motorcycles. Which meant the Underland MC was getting close! Even though Eddie hadn’t let me out of his sight very often, everyone in town knew who they were.
I’d seen the Underland MC guys around town quite a few times since coming here with Eddie, and I’d secretly watched them. They were tough, and if the rumors were true, they were all ex-military. Men like them wouldn’t run from Eddie. This was my chance! My only hope of keeping myself out of Eddie’s grasp.
Trusting them was a risk. Still, I couldn’t run forever. If the Underland MC could give me even a shred of safety, then it was a chance I had to take.
I’ve survived this long. Fear can’t control me forever. It’s time to take a stand and take a chance .
With that, I set off into the night, my heart still pounding in my chest. If I could just talk to the men with the Underland MC, then maybe I’d make it out of this alive.
Despite my exhaustion, I trudged through the quiet streets of Warren. The cold wind bit into my skin, but I forced myself to keep walking. My mind was a whirlpool of thoughts -- fear, anger, and a sliver of hope that refused to be drowned.
As the rumble of motorcycles grew louder, I saw them in the distance. Four men on bikes. They were rough around the edges with tattoos snaking up their muscular arms, clad in leather vests that I knew bore the unmistakable insignia of Underland MC.
Drawing a ragged breath, I stepped forward. Gritting my teeth, I ignored the sharp pain that flared through my damaged body, my steely resolve fortifying me against the discomfort.
I flagged them down with as much strength as I could muster. As they came to a halt, bright headlights blinded me. A heavy silence fell upon us as they eyed me. I knew what they’d see -- a woman barely standing.
“Christ,” one of them muttered, his voice heavy with concern. I’d seen eyes like his before. This man had killed and seen horrors most people couldn’t even comprehend. Same with the others beside him.
“You’ve got some nerve stopping us like this,” another said, his piercing eyes scanning me warily from head to toe.
“Yes,” I croaked out, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “And I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
Their expressions hardened at my admission and for a terrifying moment, I thought they would leave me stranded in the cold dark night. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as fear gripped me once more.
But it was then that one man dismounted from his bike -- tall, with an aura of authority that seemed to command respect from the others. His eyes scanned over my brutalized form, taking in each bruise and cut with a hard glint in his gaze. But beneath the harsh exterior, I sensed something else in him -- a sense of justice, perhaps? Was it even possible?
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“Eddie… Edward Lewis,” I replied, gathering every bit of courage left within me.
The mention of Eddie’s name sent a ripple through the group. They exchanged wary glances before the man spoke again. “Get on,” he ordered, gesturing toward his motorcycle.
Fear briefly threatened to consume me again as thoughts of betrayal and deceit swirled in my head. But then I remembered the alternative -- a life under Eddie’s sadistic reign or worse, death.
So I took a deep breath and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, ignoring the pain screaming through my body. As we rode off into the night, I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me for the first time in what felt like forever. Maybe, just maybe, I had found my protector in this terrifying town called Warren.
And I didn’t even know his name…