Chapter 53

The streets were quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine as we sped through the city.

We arrived at a new location, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The headlights cut through the darkness, revealing a handful of bikes parked outside. The Raven's  had gathered for an emergency meeting.

As I stepped out of the car, the tension was a cloak surrounding us. The members' expressions were grim, and I could feel the anger radiating off of them. Rook was there, his eyes bloodshot, a bruise already forming on his jaw.

"What's going on?" I demanded, my voice shaking.

"We're being set up," he snarled. "The cops are looking for a reason to take us down. Jax is dead, and we fucking didn’t do it!"

The room erupted in shouts and curses. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the edge of the table, my entire body trembling.

"We split up," he continued. "Find out who Jax was dealing with. We're not going down without a fight."

With that, the group dispersed, everyone eager to do their part. But as I watched them go, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being played, that there was more to this than just Jax's betrayal. And as the sound of the bikes faded into the night, I was left with the haunting question: who was the real traitor in this?

Houseshoe, pulled me aside. "Mar, you're not safe here," he said, his eyes searching the shadows. "You need to leave town. Tonight."

I stared at him, disbelief etched on my face. "What? No, I can't just leave!"

"You don’t have a choice," he insisted, his voice low and urgent. "If the cops or worse, the rival clubs think you know something, you're as good as dead."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "But Rook... What about him?"

Houseshoe’s expression grew grim. "Rook's a big boy, he can handle himself. We all can. But we can't protect you if you're in the line of fire."

I knew he was right, but the thought of leaving Rook behind, in this mess, was unbearable. "Fine," I conceded, "But I want to help in any way I can before I go."

He nodded, handing me a burner phone. "Take this. Call no one except me or Rook. We'll keep you in the loop, but you have to get out of here. Now.

I took the phone with trembling hands. "Where do I go?"

"Take the car," he said, pointing to the beat-up sedan parked outside. "There's a bag in the trunk with everything you'll need. You know the safe house in the woods?"

I nodded, recalling the place. "Yeah."

"Good," he said, giving me a firm pat on the shoulder. "Get there and lay low. We'll figure this out."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving me standing there, feeling more lost than ever. I took a deep breath and walked to the car, the situation weighing down on me with every step.

As I pulled out of the warehouse, the sound of the car's engine was the only thing that broke the silence. The city lights grew dimmer in the rearview mirror, and the darkness of the night swallowed me whole.

The drive to the safe house was a blur, my mind racing with questions and fears. Who had set the Raven’s up? And why? Was it just Jax, or was there someone else pulling the strings?

When I arrived, I parked the car in the overgrown lot, the headlights illuminating the dilapidated building. The safe house was a grim reminder of the life I had tried to leave behind, but now it was the only place I could turn to.

I grabbed the bag from the trunk and made my way inside, the door creaking open to reveal the musty smell of a place long abandoned. As I turned on a flashlight, the dust danced in the beam of light. The floorboards groaned under my feet as I made my way to the back room where I found a mattress on the floor with blankets and pillows. It wasn’t much, but it was better than a jail cell.

With a heavy heart, I lay down, the events of the night replaying in my mind like a twisted movie. I knew I had to trust Rook and the others to handle the situation, but it was hard to ignore the fear that gnawed at my stomach.

The silence was deafening as I stared at the ceiling, listening to the distant sounds of the night. But amidst the quiet, the sound of a motorcycle grew louder, and my heart skipped a beat.

Could it be Rook, coming to tell me everything was okay? Or was it someone else, someone who had followed me here? The engine cut out, and the door creaked open. I sat up, my heart racing as footsteps approached.

"Mar?"

It was Rook's voice, filled with exhaustion and relief. I let out a sigh and switched on the flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness to reveal his bruised and bloodied face.

"You're okay," I murmured, rushing to him and throwing my arms around his neck.

He winced, holding me tightly. "Barely," he said, his voice gruff. "But we're going to figure this out."

He stepped back, his eyes searching mine. "You've got to stay here," he said. "It's not safe out there. I'll come for you when it is."

I nodded, feeling a mix of fear and determination. "Whatever it takes," I said, my voice firm.

"Good girl," he murmured, giving me a weary smile before he disappeared into the shadows again.

The next few days passed in a blur of tension and anxiety. I stayed hidden at the safe house, only venturing outside to grab firewood or to take a quick breath of fresh air. The burner phone remained silent, the only communication coming in the form of a few terse texts from Burdock, telling me to stay put and that they were working on it.