Chapter Three

Willow

Seven hours earlier

Run, run, run, run. It was all I could do. The thought burned inside of me. Run so I could get to safety. Run so he couldn't catch me and I would be safe. Run to live. Run to survive.

Looking behind me for the millionth time, there was no shadow following me. My heart lurched in relief, even though my chest ached from the panting and exhaustion. Sweat trickled down my back from the heat of the night, and I cried in pain as my bare feet took to the road, the street and grass, rubbing themselves raw.

My arms and legs were finally numb, and tears brimmed in my eyes in appreciation. The way my limbs had been damaged after I crawled out the small bathroom window, cutting my arms and legs with the shards of glass leftover and then scraping them when I fell to the sharp stones below, was horrendous.

It was hard to see, but it was as if the night knew it had to be darker to cover my tracks. Was God looking down on me, wanting me to escape?

Whatever the reason, gratitude filled my heavy heart.

A gate banging shut caused me to jump and whimper. I bolted behind a large warehouse-type place. Leaning against the rough wall, I inhaled ragged breaths, trying but failing to ignore the wave of pain burning through my body since stopping. I needed a place to rest, a place that would keep me hidden for the night at least.

So Colton and my owner couldn't find me.

My cousin had fooled me, or rather, I’d been the fool in believing Colton wouldn’t betray me like the rest of my family. God, my family was all fucked up. My parents were druggies, my cousin a gambler...heck, was my uncle a drunken cross-dresser?

A crazy laugh escaped me, and my hand flew to cover my mouth. Exhaustion and pain filled my head with stupid thoughts.

Rest. I had to rest. Crawling on all fours, I looked through the darkened night for a place to catch my breath. 

Something shone from a window up on the building. I stood and cringed from the pain shooting through my feet. Great, another bloody window. At least it was open. I could be thankful for that. I waited and listened. When I heard nothing coming from the inside, I opened the window further and jumped up, my bottom to the edge. Never known for my grace, especially when bleeding and in agony, I slipped and fell in a heap to the concrete ground below.

Rest. I just needed to rest. Just for a moment.

I found a corner, blocked off with benches on each side of me. From the smell of it, I worked out I was in a garage.

Rest. Even for a little while.

I never thought I would be able to sleep, considering my distress and the burning pain inching its way around my body, but exhaustion won out. I closed my eyes.

*  *  *  *

My gaze glanced over the man in front of me, the one who had woken me with a start when he’d banged the door open earlier. It was the same man I'd seen in the supermarket the previous day—the man with a sinful body, who now had a hard glare and words as he barked into his phone.

Trust no one.

I couldn't risk it.

My heart beat stupidly at the thought of him seeming to want to protect me. He'd driven those men out of the room because I was scared, and spoke to someone on the phone to seek help for me.

My heart was foolish to want to trust someone so soon.

My head was smarter.

I eyed him with a curious glance, keeping my distance.

The man turned to me with a glare in his eyes, only the glare didn't frighten me. If anything, my personality wanted to share my own scowl back, but it wasn’t the time. I needed to know what the new situation just brought me.

"My name's Dodge," he snapped.

Dodge. What a funny name.

"Someone's coming who'll help you. For now, you're safe... Do you remember me?"

I nodded.

He sighed when I wasn't forthcoming with more information. "Do you know where you are?" he asked.

I shook my head slightly.

"This is a mechanical business owned by the biker club I'm a part of."

My eye widened. A sharp gasp filled the air as my chest rose and fell in a jerky motion. A biker club? My owner was a part of a biker club. "No," I whispered and shifted into the wall more. "No!" I screamed.

"Hey," he started, his brows furrowed. "What the fuck? Little bird, what's this about? I'm trying to help you. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Y-you're one of them," I stuttered in terror and annoyance. I hated how weak I seemed.

"Woman, what are you talking about?"

"H-he was selling me, m-my cousin.” Even I thought it sounded insane. In this day and age, people were still sold into slavery? I couldn’t fathom it. "I was to become a slave." Judging by Dodge's eyes darkening, he seemed to believe it far too easily, which scared the crap out of me. "I was...my...I was sold. My owner...he's a biker."

His jaw clenched tight, his nostrils flared and I watched as his hand fisted his phone tightly. Then, all of a sudden, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. When they opened, the storm that had grown inside of them calmed.

He sat on the floor, keeping a short distance between us. "I can tell you now, little bird, no one I know would want to buy a woman to be a slave. That shit is fucked up, and I'll take a fucker out, even in this club, who thinks of starting that crap up." He sighed. "The Hawks MC is clean. We don't run in shady stuff like selling women or drugs. No one fucks that up for us. If they try, I take them out and when that happens, there's nothing left to find of the fucker trying to bring a bad name to Hawks." He licked his lips like they were dry. "You are safe here."

How was I safe when he'd admitted to killing people who tried to cause trouble with the Hawks club?

He killed people.

He had death on his hands.

So, why did I feel safe around him? Why wasn’t I scared of him any longer? My body relaxed as much as it could with my feet and skin still aching.

"What in the fuck is goin' on around here?" bellowed from the room Dodge had walked the men out to.

"Shit." Dodge sighed.

The door came open, and I peered around the corner of the bench to see who had walked in. It was an older man with a wiry beard, around the age of fifty. His eyes were angry and he wore similar clothes to Dodge—jeans, a tee and leather jacket.

Dodge quickly stood from the floor and faced the man. "Memphis—"

"Explain to me why in the hell the shop isn't open. We have fuckin' customers comin' soon to pick up their cars, and some of the boys need to fuckin' finish."

"Memphis—"

"This had better be good."

"Jesus, old man, if you let me finish, I'd bloody tell you," Dodge said, and then gestured with his hand towards me. I cringed back into the wall as I felt the man named Memphis look my way.

"The fuck?"

The door opened again. Curious, I glanced around to see two large men and a woman walk in. The red-haired woman closed the door behind her.

"Dodge, you dick, next time don't hang up on me, and explain the cryptic shit you spew from your mouth. If there ain't a good reason to have our woman here while the guys outside ogle her arse, I'm gonna kick the crap outta you," said the man wearing a baseball cap.

"Let's kick it anyway for fuckin' up our morning," said the other man as he flicked his hair from his glaring eyes that were trained on Dodge.

Dodge was getting into a lot of trouble just for me.

For someone he didn't know.

Why, I didn't have a clue. Suddenly, I cleared my throat, and all eyes—except Memphis's, because his were still staring down at me—turned to me.