Under the biker protection

Elena POV

CHAPTER 1 — THE ESCAPE

The first time Marcus grabbed my wrist, he apologized.

The second time, he said I had pushed him too far.

After that, the apologies stopped.

I learned to recognize his moods by the way he closed a door. A quiet click meant I had a few minutes before he started asking questions. A hard slam meant I should stay out of his way. If he came home already smelling like whiskey, I knew better than to argue.

Tonight, I had argued anyway.

I stood in the kitchen with my bag hanging from one shoulder, staring at the back door.

My phone was on the counter behind me. Marcus had checked it twice that evening. He had wanted to know why I had received a message from an old friend and why I had taken so long at the grocery store.

It was never just one question.

Where were you?

Who were you with?

Why didn't you answer?

Why are you hiding things from me?

I had spent months answering him.

Tonight, I was done.

I reached for the kitchen door.

"Where do you think you're going?"

My hand froze.

Marcus stood in the doorway.

He had changed out of his club vest, but the Iron Skulls patch was still visible on the black shirt underneath. His eyes were bloodshot, and the smell of whiskey reached me before he crossed the room.

"Home," I said.

His mouth twisted.

"This is your home."

"No. It's yours."

The words came out before I could stop them.

His expression changed.

I had seen that look before.

My body reacted before my mind did. My shoulders tightened. My fingers curled around the strap of my bag.

Marcus walked toward me slowly.

"Say that again."

"I'm leaving."

He grabbed my arm.

Pain shot up to my shoulder.

I sucked in a breath but refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry.

"Let go."

"You don't get to decide when this is over."

His fingers tightened.

For months, I had made excuses for him. I told myself he was stressed. That the club business was getting to him. That if I stopped arguing, stopped questioning, stopped making him angry, things would settle down.

They never did.

His grip tightened again.

Something inside me finally snapped.

"I'm done."

I drove my free hand into his chest.

He stumbled backward, more surprised than hurt.

I tore my arm free.

Marcus stared at the red marks already forming around my wrist.

Then he looked at me.

"You really think you're walking out?"

I backed toward the counter.

"Yes."

He reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a folding knife.

The blade snapped open.

My stomach dropped.

"Marcus."

"If you walk out that door," he said quietly, "you're going to regret it."

I looked at the knife.

Then at him.

For the first time, I believed he might actually use it.

Not because I had suddenly discovered he was dangerous.

Because I finally understood that I had spent months teaching myself not to notice.

I grabbed the ceramic mug beside me and swung.

It connected with his shoulder.

Marcus cursed and staggered sideways.

I ran.

I didn't stop to think.

I shoved through the back door and sprinted into the cold night, my shoes slipping against the damp concrete.

"ELENA!"

His voice followed me.

I kept running.

The old sedan was parked across the street. My hands shook so badly that I dropped the keys once before getting the door open.

I threw myself inside.

The engine coughed twice before starting.

I locked the doors.

A second later, Marcus burst through the back door.

He was holding his shoulder.

He saw the car.

"Elena!"

I reversed so quickly the tires screamed.

Marcus jumped out of the way.

I hit the gas.

For the first few minutes, I couldn't think.

I only drove.

My wrist burned where he'd grabbed me. My breathing came too fast, and every time headlights appeared behind me, I checked the rearview mirror.

Was it him?

Was it one of the Skulls?

Had he called someone already?

I took three random turns, then another two, avoiding the main roads whenever I could.

My phone buzzed on the passenger seat.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

An unknown number.

A message appeared.

You can't run, Elena. We know every road you're on.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Marcus had people everywhere.

That was what made the Iron Skulls different from every other group I'd ever encountered. Marcus wasn't alone. He had men who answered his calls without asking questions.

And I knew enough about their business to understand why he couldn't afford to let me disappear.

The flash drive in my bag suddenly felt heavier.

I reached for my phone and switched it off.

Then I threw it into the back seat.

"No."

My voice shook.

"I'm not going back."

The highway stretched ahead of me, dark and almost empty.

I drove until the city lights disappeared.

Then the car started making a strange noise.

I frowned.

A metallic rattle came from beneath the hood.

"Please don't."

The temperature gauge climbed.

Smoke began curling from the front of the car.

I pulled onto the shoulder and turned the key again.

Nothing.

I tried once more.

The engine coughed.

Then died.

I stared through the windshield.

For a few seconds, I didn't move.

Then I slammed my palms against the steering wheel.

"Of course."

My phone was dead.

My car was dead.

And I was standing alone on a road I barely recognized.

I grabbed my canvas bag and stepped outside.

The cold hit me immediately.

I pulled my jacket tighter and looked down the road.

No houses.

No stores.

No lights.

Just trees, darkness, and the faint sound of wind moving through the branches.

Then I saw the sign.

It stood behind a rusted wire fence a few yards away.

PRIVATE PROPERTY — APEX RIDERS MC

I stopped.

The Apex Riders.

Marcus had spent enough nights talking about them for me to know exactly what that meant.

The Apex Riders and Iron Skulls weren't friends.

They were rivals.

I looked back toward my dead car.

Then toward the road behind me.

Far away, headlights appeared.

One.

Then another.

Motorcycle engines growled closer.

My chest tightened.

They were coming.

Maybe Marcus.

Maybe his men.

Maybe someone else.

It didn't matter.

If I stayed on the road, whoever was coming would find me.

I looked at the Apex property again.

Walking onto rival territory could get me killed.

Staying here could do the same.

I tightened my grip on my bag.

For once, I wasn't going to wait for someone else to decide what happened to me.

I climbed over the fence.

The wire caught the sleeve of my jacket, tearing the fabric.

I pulled free and dropped into the darkness on the other side.

The motorcycles were getting closer.

I crouched behind a cluster of trees and held my breath.

Headlights swept across the road.

I pressed my hand over my mouth.

The engines slowed.

For several terrifying seconds, I thought they had seen me.

Then the bikes continued down the highway.

I stayed where I was.

My knees were shaking.

My wrist hurt.

My jacket was torn.

I had no phone, no car, and nowhere to go.

But I was no longer standing in Marcus's house waiting for the next time he decided I had crossed a line.

For the first time in months, I had made a choice for myself.

Unfortunately, I had chosen to hide on the property o

f the one motorcycle club Marcus would never forgive me for trusting.

And somewhere beyond the trees, I could hear another engine approaching.

This one was coming toward me.