Chapter 9 Bonnie
BONNIE
Agas station appears like a mirage through the trees.
I stumble out of the woods and onto the cracked pavement of the parking lot. Every part of me screams in pain—my feet worst of all, shredded from running barefoot through the forest and over the asphalt.
The station appears abandoned, with only one pump remaining, rust eating away at the metal. A small building with bars on the windows and a faded sign that says “Pete’s Gas & Go.” No cars in the lot. No signs of life.
I limp toward the building and collapse against the side wall. My chest heaves. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision. When was the last time I ate? This morning? Yesterday? Time has lost all meaning.
I look down at myself and almost laugh. The wedding dress is barely recognizable—torn to shreds, covered in blood and dirt and God knows what else. My feet leave red prints on the concrete. Cuts cover my arms and legs from the fence and thorns. I must look like I crawled out of a horror movie.
At least I’m alive.
For now.
I pull my phone from where it’s still tucked in the bodice. The screen is cracked, and my battery is dead.
Dad’s with the feds. Who gave him up?
The question circles my brain like a vulture. Someone who knew enough about club business to build a federal case.
The thought makes me sick. Our club is family. We’re supposed to be loyal to each other above everything else. But someone broke that loyalty, fed information to the feds, and now Dad’s in custody while I’m running for my life from the marriage he arranged.
Was that the plan all along? Get Dad arrested, leave me vulnerable, and hand me over to Marcus? My head spins as I try to work through the possibilities. I’m too exhausted, too hurt, too scared to think straight.
The rumble of motorcycle engines cuts through my thoughts.
I pause and listen. The sound grows louder, coming from the direction of the main road.
Multiple bikes. At least four, maybe more.
I push off the wall and hobble around the back of the building. A dumpster sits against the rear wall, overflowing with trash. I crouch behind it, press myself into the small space between the metal and brick, and try to make myself invisible.
The engines get louder and closer. They pull into the parking lot, and my heart stops.
Through the gap between the dumpster and the wall, I can see them. Five bikes. Savage Legion patches on their vests. They circle the lot slowly, like sharks looking for blood in the water.
“She came this way,” one of them calls out. “Her tracks lead here.”
“Check inside,” another says.
Two of them dismount and head for the building. They try the door, but it’s locked. One of them peers through the barred windows while the other walks around the perimeter, coming toward me.
I hold my breath. Press harder against the brick. Every muscle in my body tenses. If he looks behind this dumpster, I’m done.
His boots crunch on the gravel. He’s maybe ten feet away. Then five.
Then I hear the sound of more engines from a distance.
The Savage Legion member stops walking. “The fuck?”
I risk a glance through the gap. Three more bikes roar into the parking lot, and relief floods through me so fast I almost sob.
Ash. Ghost. Titan.
“Well, well,” the Savage Legion member near the dumpster says. He walks back toward his brothers. “Look who decided to show up.”
Ash kills his engine but doesn’t dismount. “This is Ruthless Devils territory. You lost?”
“Looking for property that belongs to us,” the Savage Legion leader says. He’s older, maybe forty, with a scar running down his left cheek. “The president’s runaway bride.”
“She’s not property.” Titan’s voice carries a warning. “And she sure as shit doesn’t belong to you.”
“The wedding was supposed to happen today. That makes her Marcus’s wife.”
“Wedding didn’t happen,” Ghost says quietly. “No ceremony, no marriage.”
“She’s promised—”
“She’s gone.” Ash swings off his bike. “And you’re trespassing. So, unless you want this to get ugly, I suggest you leave.”
The Savage Legion leader laughs. “Three against five? Those aren’t good odds for you.”
“I like those odds just fine.” Titan dismounts. He’s a full head taller than anyone else in the lot, built like a tank. “Let’s see how this plays out.”
The Savage Legion leader swings first at Ash. Bad choice. Ash ducks under the punch and drives his fist into the man’s stomach. The leader doubles over, and Ash brings his knee up into his face. Blood sprays. The man goes down.
Two more rush Titan. He grabs one by the vest and throws him into the gas pump. The metal clangs. The other one gets a punch in before Titan returns it three times as hard. The man’s head snaps back, and he drops.
Ghost moves like water. He takes down his opponent with three precise strikes—throat, solar plexus, knee. The man crumples without making a sound.
The last two Savage Legion members look at each other, then at their brothers on the ground, then back at Ash, Ghost, and Titan standing there barely winded.
“Go,” Ash says. “While you still can.”
They go. Help their wounded onto bikes and peel out of the lot, engines screaming as they flee. Silence falls over the gas station.
I stand up from behind the dumpster on shaking legs.
“Bonnie,” Titan breathes.
He crosses the distance in four long strides and sweeps me up off my feet. I’m too tired to protest, too grateful to see them to do anything but wrap my arms around his neck and hold on.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’re safe now.”
“My feet—”
“I know. We’ll fix it.” He carries me to his bike and settles me on the seat in front of him. “Just hold on.”
Ash and Ghost mount their bikes. Engines rumble to life, and we pull out of the gas station, heading back the way they came.
Back toward the compound.
“Wait,” I call out over the engine noise. “We can’t go there. That’s the first place they’ll look—”
“This is our territory,” Ash calls back. “We’ll be ready.”
I want to argue, but exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. I lean back against Titan’s chest and let him support my weight as we ride.
The compound appears ahead. Guards at the gate wave us through. Brothers stop what they’re doing to watch as Titan carries me inside.
“Get Jamie,” Ash orders someone. “Tell her we need medical attention in the common room.”
“I’m fine—” I start.
“You’re not fine.” Titan sets me down on a couch. “You look like you went ten rounds with a wood chipper.”
“Thanks. Real flattering.”
“Just being honest.”
Jamie rushes in with a medical kit. She’s been the club’s unofficial nurse for five years and has patched up more injuries than I can count. She takes one look at me and her eyes widen.
“Jesus Christ, Bonnie. What happened?”
“Long story.”
“We need to take her to a hospital,” she says to Ash. “These wounds need proper treatment—”
“Please. Just do what you can here,” I beg.
Jamie looks at Ash. He nods once. She sighs and kneels in front of me. “This is going to hurt.”
“Everything already hurts.”
She starts with my feet. Pulls out tweezers and begins removing debris—glass, splinters of wood. Each piece feels like she’s pulling out teeth. I grit my jaw and try not to make any noise.
“We should head to the cabin,” I say through clenched teeth. “It’s safer—”
“The cabin’s thirty minutes away.” Ash leans against the wall, arms crossed. “You’d bleed out before we got there.”
“I’m not bleeding out—”
“Your feet say different.” Jamie drops a piece of glass into a metal bowl with a clink. “Hold still.”
“The compound isn’t safe,” I insist. “Savage Legion will come looking—”
“Bonnie.” Ghost’s quiet voice cuts through my protests. He’s standing by the window, watching the lot. “Ash is acting president now with your father gone. That means his word is law. And he says you stay here where we can protect you.”
The reminder of Dad hits like a fist to the stomach. He’s in federal custody. Someone betrayed him. The club is falling apart, and I’m sitting here arguing about which safe house to hide in.
Jamie moves to my arms, cleaning cuts from the fence. I wince but don’t pull away.
“Who do you think did it?” I ask quietly. “Who snitched?”
The room goes silent. Everyone knows what I’m asking.
“Don’t know yet,” Ash says finally. “But we’ll find out.”
“Had to be someone with access to real information.”
“We’ll find out,” he repeats.
Jamie wraps gauze around my arm. Moves to the next cut. The pile of bloody cotton grows in the metal bowl beside her.
“You need rest,” she says. “Real rest. Not just sitting on a couch while I patch you up.”
“I’m fine—”
“You ran through the woods barefoot in a wedding dress.” She gives me a look. “You’re not fine. You’re running on adrenaline and stubbornness.”
“The stubbornness is genetic,” Titan says.
I almost smile. “Shut up.”
“There she is.” He grins. “Thought we lost the Bonnie who tells me to shut up.”
“She’s just buried under layers of trauma and blood loss,” Ghost says without turning from the window.
Jamie finishes with my arms and moves to check my back, where the fence scraped me. She hisses through her teeth. “This needs stitches.”
“Do what you have to do.”
She pulls out a needle and thread. “This is really going to hurt.”
“Join the club.”
The first stitch pulls through skin, and I bite down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. Jamie works quickly and efficiently, but each stitch is a fresh kind of hell.
Ash watches from his spot against the wall. His jaw is tight, hands clenched into fists at his sides like he’s physically restraining himself from interfering.
“You should have fought harder,” he says suddenly. “Should have said no from the beginning.”
“I did say no.” The words come out sharper than I intend. “Nobody listened.”
“You accepted it—”
“Because I didn’t have a choice!” I twist to look at him, and Jamie hisses at me to hold still. “What was I supposed to do? Start a war? Get more people killed?”
Jamie ties off the last stitch and sits back. “Done. Try not to move too much, or these will tear.”
“No promises.”
She packs up her kit and stands. “I’ll check on you in a few hours. If anything starts bleeding again or you develop a fever, you tell someone immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She leaves, and silence falls over the room. Titan sprawls in his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Ghost maintains his vigil by the window. Ash still leans against the wall.
“What happens now?” I ask.
“Now you rest,” Ash says. “We’ll figure out who betrayed your father. And we prepare for Savage Legion to retaliate.”
“They’re going to come after me.”
“Probably.”
“And you’re just going to let them waltz in here?”
“I’m going to make sure they regret it if they try.” His voice carries absolute certainty. “This is our territory, Bonnie. Our home. And nobody takes what’s ours.”
The last thing I hear before exhaustion pulls me under is the rumble of motorcycles outside and Ash’s voice giving orders to lock down the compound.
Home. For better or worse, I’m home.