Chapter-55

I knew that staying would only make matters worse and I gave one last look at Rook, then slipped out the back door, allowing the night to swath me within its darkness.

The woods were dark, and I only had the minimalist idea of where I was going. I had been here before, but only a few times with Torin or Rook, and I had a good sense of direction. So, I had to trust in what memory I held of the woods.

The sound of the bikes grew fainter as I pushed deeper into the foliage. I didn’t look back, I didn’t dare. All I could do was to hope Rook and his brothers would come out of this unscathed. But I couldn't help knowing I might never see some of them again.

The crunch of leaves underfoot was the only sound I made as I moved through the dense growth.

The unmistakable crack of a twig snapping behind me had my head jerking up and I spun around, ready to fight whoever was sneaking up behind me. However, my effort in self-protection came too late as a hand clamped over my mouth, and a strong arm pulled me into the shadows.

"Marlowe!" Jitter's voice hissed in my ear. "You need to come with me, now!"

I nodded, and we took off. He pulled me along behind him as we ran through the woods. I could hear the revving of bike engines and realized more and more members of each club was arriving.

As we reached the edge of the clearing, I gaped, for the chaos unfolding shocked the hell out of me. The Raven's and the Sons of Morning Star were in a full-on brawl, fists and knives flashing in the moonlight.

"Dammit," Jitter snarled in front of me. As I peered around him at the mayhem, he hissed, "Looks like it's time for Plan B."

Within minutes, we were once again on the move through the trees, staying low to the ground to avoid being seen. As we pushed aside limbs, I caught the occasional glimpse of the Sons of Morning Star's emblem. The members seemed to be everywhere and I knew instantly, this was not a spontaneous attack: Dillon had planned a slaughter.

Minutes seemed to take hours before we finally broke through the trees, and into a clearing. Jitter kept moving, never slowing, as moving over to a thickly limbed tree, he started jerking away brush, revealing the dirt bike hidden behind them.

"There's another safe house a mile or so up the path, take the bike and stop for no one, if someone gets in your way, run over their asses! Now, get" he said shoving me toward the bike.

Straddling the bike, I could feel my legs shaking, as peering at Jitter, I breathed, "Thank you, and be careful."

He gave me a tight smile. "Always," he said, echoing Rook's earlier promise.

The engine roared to life, and with a final look at Jitter, I tore through the woods, the branches slapping my face as I navigated the narrow paths. The sound of the fight grew fainter, replaced by the whine of the bike.

~~

The safe house was a small cabin, tucked away from the main road. I skidded to a stop in the clearing, my eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.

"Marlowe!" a voice called out from the shadows, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I recognized it. It was Surgeon—one of Torin’s and Rook's most trusted brothers.

He pulled me off the bike, his eyes scanning me for injuries. "You okay?"

I nodded, my voice shaking. "What's happening?"

"Rook's up to his ass fighting your brother's club," he said, his jaw clenched. "We have to move."

I didn't even try to argue. The Sons of Morning Star could be on our trail, and every second counted.

Inside the cabin, I saw that some of the other brothers had gathered, no longer able to fight because of their injuries. Their faces were grim, and I knew they would rather be helping their brothers, but their injuries would make them more a hindrance than a help.

"Rook and the others are trying to hold them," Surgeon said. "But we can't stay here, we gotta move."

I knew what he meant. If the Sons of Morning Star won, they would come. And if they found us, Dillon would show no mercy. Not even to me.

We had to get out, had to find a way to help Rook and the others. But how? We were outnumbered and outgunned.

It was then that I had an idea. A risky one, but it might just work.

"I know where we can go," I said, the words spilling out before I could think better of it. "A place the cops won't look, a place only I know."

The brothers looked at me, their expressions a mix of hope and doubt. But Surgeon nodded. "We've got nothing to lose."

And with that, we set off into the night, leaving the safety of the cabin behind us. The roar of the bikes grew distant, and soon all that was left was the hum of the Raven's bikes.

As I rode behind Surgeon, I couldn't help but think of Rook, fighting for his life, fighting for all of us. The ache in my chest grew with every mile that took us farther away from him.

We arrived at the abandoned warehouse, the perfect hideout for a group on the run. It was a place Torin had shown me, a place that held both good and bad memories.

As we were climbing off the bikes, the radio Surgeon held crackled to life. The voice on the other end was strained, the background a cacophony of engines and shouting. "Surgeon," the voice shouted, "Get Marlowe and get the fuck out of there. We're compromised."

My blood ran cold. "Rook?" I whispered.

But the line went dead.

The area erupted into chaos, the brothers shouting orders. We had to move, and fast. The warehouse was no longer safe.

As we remounted the bikes, my mind raced. We couldn't just run, not when Rook was out there, fighting for us. We had to do something.

"Surgeon? What if we can use the warehouse to our advantage. We can set a trap for the Sons of Morning Stars, lure them in and take them out," I suggested.

Surgeon looked at me, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But then, he nodded.

"Let's do it," he said, his eyes on his brothers.

Together, the lot of us turned the abandoned warehouse into a fortress, waiting for the snakes to slither into our web.