Chapter Two
March
I was mid-way through a stack of reports when the knock came. Three sharp raps, insistent and out of place against the background hum of classic rock and the occasional clink of beer bottles. I stood, leaving the papers sprawled carelessly, and made my way to the door.
The clubhouse was my domain. I was the gatekeeper here, Sergeant-at-Arms of Underland MC, and unannounced visitors were rare. The knock echoed again, more urgent this time, pulling me faster toward the heavy oak barrier.
I yanked it open. Blinking, I wondered if I was hallucinating. “Vi?”
Violet Benson. A ghost from a past life stood on the weathered porch, drenched in shadows. Didn’t matter I hadn’t seen her in a long ass time, I’d recognize her anywhere. Her whiskey eyes were wide, brimming with fear, her long dark hair a tangled veil across one side of her face. She looked small, fragile against the night’s chill, but her presence hit me like a freight train.
“Marcus…” Her voice cracked, a mere whisper carried by the wind.
What the hell was she doing here? Years had passed since I’d seen her -- since Ben… No. I shoved that thought back into its dark corner. My gaze swept over her, taking in the trembling hands and the desperate plea etched into every line of her body.
“Vi?” I repeated, my voice betraying none of the turmoil that churned inside. “What are you running from? And how the hell are you here?”
She hesitated, lip caught between her teeth, and something protective flared within me, despite my better judgment. This was Violet, Ben’s little sister, not just some stray looking for shelter.
“Can I come in?” The question hung in the air.
I studied her a moment longer, the discipline of my military days screaming at me to maintain the perimeter, to keep the unknown at bay. Yet there she stood, a living reminder of promises unkept, and debts unpaid.
“Marcus, please…”
“It’s March. I don’t go by Marcus here.” I stepped aside, breaking protocol with the weight of her gaze. The door creaked on its hinges as I let her pass, the scent of rain clinging to her. The clubhouse would never be the same after tonight, and neither would we.
“March, I’m in trouble.” Violet’s voice cracked as she stepped into the dim light of the clubhouse. Her gaze darted around before settling back on me. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
I closed the door behind her, shutting out the night and any prying eyes. I’d never told her where I was going. Not once had I contacted anyone back home. The fact she was standing here made my senses scream. Something wasn’t right.
“Talk to me, Vi.” My words were a command.
Her breath hitched, and she clutched at her stomach, a motion unmistakable in its meaning. “I’m pregnant, March.” The bomb dropped, and the reverberations shook the very foundation of my resolve.
“Jesus, Violet…” I ran a hand over my face, my mind reeling. Pregnant. Vulnerable. And here, in my world -- a world that had no place for innocence. I was far too fucked up. The simple fact Hatter was expecting a kid made me nervous. But now Vi…
“I can’t do this alone.” Her plea sliced through my defenses, leaving me exposed to memories I fought hard to bury.
Ben’s laugh echoed in my skull, a sound that used to mean safety, now twisted into a taunt from the grave. I couldn’t save him. Maybe Vi was here to give me a second chance, the opportunity to make things right. I couldn’t bring her brother back, but I could ensure her safety.
“Who’s after you?” I asked, needing facts, something concrete to hold onto amidst the flood of guilt.
“Doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “They’ll find me.”
“Like hell they will.” The words left my lips before I could rein them in, the protective instinct taking command -- the same one that failed Ben when he needed it most.
My gut churned with the turmoil of decisions stacked like dominoes. Help her, and I’d drag the club into whatever mess she was tangled up in. Turn her away, and I’d be abandoning the last piece of a man who had been more than a brother to me.
“March, please…” There it was again, that tremor in her voice, pulling at me.
“All right.” I locked my jaw, my decision made despite the screaming protests of caution. “You’re under our protection now.”
“Thank --”
“Don’t thank me yet.” I cut her off, my gaze locking onto hers. “This is not charity, Vi. It’s a debt being repaid.”
She gave a brisk nod, no longer holding my gaze.
“Come on,” I grunted, leading her to a table. Heads turned. Conversations stalled. The Underland MC’s pulse slowed, every eye now fixed on the girl who’d brought trouble to our doorstep.
“Boys,” I announced, my voice low, “this is Violet.”
“Violet?” Hatter’s brow creased as he stood, his height commanding attention. His voice, though quiet, never failed to fill the room. “The name’s familiar.”
“Ben’s sister,” I said, the words tasting like ash.
“Ah.” Hatter’s eyes narrowed, taking in Violet’s skittish stance. “And what brings Ben’s shadow here?”
“Refuge,” I replied, before she could. Her secrets weren’t mine to spill, not yet. Hell, I still didn’t even know them, other than the one in her belly.
Cheshire leaned back in his chair, that ever-present grin flickering at the edges of his lips. “Refuge. From what kind of storm, I wonder?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I met Cheshire’s gaze, hard as flint. “She’s under our protection now.”
“Is she?” Absolem chimed in, his voice rough as gravel. He sized Violet up, skepticism etched into the lines of his face.
“March has spoken,” Hatter declared, his word final. But the question remained, dancing in their eyes, unvoiced but loud as thunder -- why? “But it also means she’s his responsibility.”
Violet stayed close, her breaths shallow. She watched them, her eyes wavering with uncertainty, but beneath it all, there was something else. A spark of steel, forged in fires I hadn’t witnessed. She’d survive, this one. I wondered what she’d been through, and if I’d been to blame for any of it. I should have kept in touch, made sure she was all right. It’s what Ben would have wanted.
The clubhouse settled into a low hum, the brothers dispersing with wary glances thrown over their shoulders.
“Violet,” I began, my voice steady despite the storm I sensed brewing within her. “Tell me everything.”
She hugged herself. The silence stretched, and I started to think she’d never speak.
“They… he…” Her voice cracked, failing her.
“Take your time.” My stance softened, but my senses remained alert. Every instinct screamed at me to shield her from whatever hunted her outside these walls.
“Raped.” The word fell like a stone into the quiet. “That’s how -- how I got pregnant.”
My jaw clenched so tight I thought it might shatter. Rage swirled, a tempest held at bay by sheer will. “Who?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she whispered, a tear tracing a path down her cheek. “He’s gone now. Dead.”
“Good.” One less monster to hunt. But that didn’t ease the weight pressing on my chest.
“March…” Violet’s eyes met mine, stark with fear. “I’m scared. All the time. What if --”
“Stop.” I cut her off, stepping closer. “No one will touch you here. Underland is your fortress now.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, a shudder passing through her.
“Who knows about the baby?”
“Nobody. Just you.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach, protective. “I ran before they could find out.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” The Sergeant-at-Arms in me demanded details. Risks needed assessing, threats needed to be neutralized. Not to mention she’d said the person responsible was dead. Now it was a they .
“Old ghosts.” Her voice dropped to a haunted whisper. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated’s our middle name.” I crossed my arms, my gaze never wavering from hers. “We’ll sort it.”
“March, I --” She choked back a sob. “I can’t drag you into this mess.”
“Too late for that, Vi.” I stepped into her space, my tone resolute. “You’re under our roof. Your mess is my mess now. Should have known that before you showed up here.”
“Thank you,” she repeated, her body sagging with relief I knew was far from complete.
“I’ll show you to a room. Get some rest,” I instructed. “Tomorrow we’ll plan your next move. We keep you safe. We keep the kid safe.”
“Okay.” She nodded, the steel in her returning.
I walked her to an empty room, the one Eliza had used before she paired off with Cheshire. Hell, if we kept taking in women, we were going to need more space. I pushed open the door, flicked on the light, and ushered her inside.
“Bedding is clean. Towels are under the sink in the bathroom.” I pointed to the open door to the right. “Goodnight, Violet.”
I watched her retreat into the room and shut the door.
“Goodnight, March.” Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a note of something new. Trust, maybe. Or hope. Just the same, I heard her through the closed door.
“Goodnight” was a promise. And I intended to keep it. Whatever chased after her, I’d make sure it couldn’t harm her within these walls.
I stood watch in the hall long after she disappeared into the guest room. Even though I should have gone to my own room, or back to my reports, I couldn’t make myself leave her yet. I couldn’t shake it -- Violet’s fear had sunk its claws into me, pulling at threads I thought I’d cut loose years ago.
I heard a door open behind me. My senses were on high alert and I heard the soft tread of footsteps. Vi’s.
“March?” Her voice was timid but cut through the silence like a knife.
“Right here, Vi.” I didn’t turn. “You should be resting.”
“I can’t,” she murmured. “Every time I close my eyes --”
“Hey.” I spun around, ready to face whatever demons chased her from sleep. Her eyes glinted with unshed tears in the dim light. I stepped closer, fighting back the urge to shield her from the world with my own body. “Talk to me.”
Her breath hitched. “I’m scared, March. All the time. I don’t know if I can do this alone.”
“You’re not alone. Not anymore.”
Violet nodded, biting down on her pouty lip. The sight sent a jolt through me. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because.” I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “Because I’ve seen war, Vi. I’ve seen what people can survive. And there’s a fire in you, something fierce. You’re going to make it through this, and I’ll be right here.”
“Even after all this time?” Her voice was small, but her gaze never wavered.
“Especially after all this time.” I let the truth of it sink into my bones. “I owe Ben that much.”
“Ben…” She whispered his name like a benediction, and I knew then that I’d step into hell itself before I let anything touch her again. I’d failed him by letting her get hurt. Never again.
“Let’s get through tonight,” I said. “We’ll figure out the rest come morning.”
“Okay.” She exhaled slowly, visibly trying to steady herself. “Thank you, March.”
“Nothing to thank me for.” I offered her a tight smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
For a moment, her lips curled into a semblance of a smile. It was faint, but it was there -- a hint of the resilience that clung to her.
“Get some sleep, Violet.” I wanted to say more, to ease the crease that worry had etched into her brow, but words seemed suddenly inadequate.
“Stay with me?” The question hung between us.
“I’ll be right here.”
She hesitated, and I wondered if she needed something more from me. Instead, she nodded and backed up a step.
“Goodnight,” she finally said, her tone carrying the weight of unsaid things.
I watched her walk back to her temporary sanctuary, feeling the shift between us. The door shut with a click, and I stood there in the dim hallway, my thoughts tumultuous. The way Violet’s eyes had darted around earlier, scanning shadows like they were alive, told me we were stepping into a maelstrom neither of us might be ready for. My gut knotted up -- the same pre-battle twist I remembered from my days overseas. Only this time, there was a baby’s life on the line.
“March?” Her voice drifted out, muffled by walls but clear in its uncertainty.
“Still here,” I called back.
The clubhouse was quiet now, the raucous laughter long faded into the night. But danger never really slept. It waited, patient as a viper. This world didn’t take kindly to vulnerability. It chewed up the scared and the weak, spit them out without a second thought. And Violet, with her whiskey eyes and steel spine, she was anything but weak -- but she was carrying something precious, something that made her a target.
I could almost hear the clock ticking, each second pulling us deeper into a future rife with threat. But men who could hurt a woman that way were monsters, which meant we had something they didn’t -- whoever they may be -- brotherhood, loyalty, a bond forged in fire and blood. The Underland MC wasn’t just a club. It was a fortress against the chaos. And I was the damned gatekeeper.
“Are we safe here?” she called out through the closed door.
“Violet, listen to me.” I stepped closer, pressing my palm against the cool wood, needing the connection. “You’re under our protection now. Under my protection. I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”
“Your word is solid?”
“Yes,” I affirmed, and it wasn’t just talk.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “March?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” she said again. “For everything.”
“Save it for when we’re out of the woods, Vi. For now, rest. I mean it. Sleep this time.”
“Okay.”
As she hopefully drifted to sleep on the other side of the door, my mind was already waging war on the unseen enemies lurking in the shadows. We were in for a hell of a fight -- a fight for her safety, for the life growing inside her, for a peace that seemed as elusive as smoke. But I’d walk through fire before I let anything happen to Violet or her kid. She was family now, whether she knew it or not.