Chapter 3
1404 Words
Layla
I didn’t sleep that night.
I just sat by the window, watching the dark sky fade into gray. The desert stretched forever, quiet and empty, except for the sound of engines somewhere far off. Every few minutes, I thought I saw headlights moving along the road — but maybe it was just my mind playing tricks.
All I could think about was Jax.
He’d always had that same calm voice, that same damn control that made people stop and listen. It used to make me feel safe. Now it made my skin crawl.
He said he saved me. That he bought me so no one else could.
But what kind of savior locks the door behind you?
I looked around the room again. Big bed, heavy furniture, security cameras hidden up in the corners — yeah, I noticed those. He didn’t trust me, and I sure as hell didn’t trust him.
I waited until the hallway went quiet. Then I opened the drawer beside the bed and found a pair of keys. Not car keys — room keys. Must’ve been from whoever stayed here last. I stuffed them in my pocket anyway.
I didn’t have a plan. I just knew I couldn’t stay here.
The sun was just starting to rise when I cracked the window open. It was a tight fit, but I managed to squeeze through. The air outside was cool and dry, full of sand and motor oil. I dropped onto the ground, crouched low, and ran.
The compound looked different in daylight — quieter but not empty. Bikes lined up in rows, big metal buildings covered in graffiti, a few guys passed out near the gate.
I kept close to the shadows, heart racing, every step too loud in my ears. My sneakers kicked up dust as I crept behind a row of old cars. I could see the front gate about fifty yards ahead.
Almost there.
“Going somewhere?”
The voice froze me cold.
Grizz.
He stood by the garage, arms crossed, a half-eaten donut in one hand. He looked amused, like he’d been expecting this.
I swallowed hard. “Just getting some air.”
He chuckled. “Air’s better on the inside of the fence, sweetheart.”
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
“Fair enough,” he said, tossing the donut aside. “But the boss won’t like you wandering off.”
“I don’t care what the boss likes.” I turned, walking fast toward the gate. “I’m leaving.”
He sighed and started following me, slow and easy. “You really think you can just walk out, huh? You got no car, no cash, no idea what’s waiting out there.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said.
“You don’t get it,” he said, catching up to me. “Viper’s men are watching every road. They see you alone, you’re gone before you hit the highway.”
“Then maybe I’ll get lucky.”
He reached out to grab my arm, but I jerked away. “Don’t touch me!”
He raised both hands, palms up. “Relax, kid. I ain’t trying to hurt you. But if you walk through that gate, I gotta stop you. Orders.”
I glared at him. “From your boss?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you tell your boss to go to hell.”
He smirked. “He’s already there, trust me.”
I didn’t wait for him to say more. I ran.
He shouted after me, but I didn’t look back. I sprinted across the yard, my lungs burning, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it’d break through my ribs. The gate was wide enough for a bike to fit through — if I could just slip past—
“Stop!”
A voice behind me, sharp and angry. Jax.
Of course.
I pushed harder, but before I could reach the gate, someone grabbed me from behind.
Jax spun me around, hands tight on my shoulders. His chest heaved, and there was fire in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Leaving!” I shouted, trying to break free. “You don’t own me, Jax!”
He shook his head, jaw tight. “You step out that gate, you die. You got no idea what’s waiting for you out there.”
“I’d rather die out there than stay locked up in here.”
His grip loosened, and for a second, I saw something in his face — something almost like pain. “You think I want this?” he said, his voice low. “You think I want you trapped here? You don’t know half the things that are going on.”
“Then tell me!” I snapped. “Tell me the truth for once!”
He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Grizz came running. “Boss! We got company!”
Jax turned fast. “Who?”
“Two black SUVs on the ridge,” Grizz said, pointing. “No plates. Could be Viper’s.”
I froze. The gate. The open road. The whole world outside suddenly looked a lot less free.
Jax cursed under his breath. “Get her inside.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I yelled.
He turned on me, his voice sharp. “Now, Layla!”
The tone in his voice made me jump. I hated that he could still do that — make me listen, make me feel something.
But when I looked out past the fence and saw those dark cars rolling down the dirt road, dust clouds rising behind them, my stomach twisted. Whoever was coming, it wasn’t friendly.
Grizz pulled his gun. “They’re armed.”
“Lock the gates,” Jax ordered. “Get the bikes ready.”
He grabbed my hand — firm but not rough this time — and pulled me toward the main house. I wanted to fight, but fear had already crawled up my spine and taken hold.
Inside, everything exploded into chaos. Men running, guns loading, engines roaring. I stumbled after him, my hand still trapped in his.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Trouble.”
“From who?”
He didn’t answer. He just pushed me into a back room and shut the door.
“Stay here. Don’t move.”
“Jax—”
But he was gone before I could finish.
The next ten minutes felt like hours. I could hear shouting outside, the deep roar of motorcycles starting up, tires screeching over gravel. Then gunfire — sharp, fast pops that made me flinch every time.
I dropped to the floor, covering my ears. My whole body shook.
Through the small window, I saw flashes — men running, smoke rising. One of the black SUVs had crashed through part of the fence. The Reapers were shooting back, their bikes forming a wall of steel between the gate and the compound.
I spotted Jax in the middle of it all, moving like he’d done this a thousand times. Calm, precise, deadly. He fired, ducked, reloaded, fired again. He looked almost untouchable — until a bullet hit the ground inches from his boot.
I gasped, heart stopping for a second.
Then he turned, saw me watching. Even from that far, his eyes found mine.
He pointed toward the ground — stay down — before turning back to the fight.
I ducked just as the window shattered.
Glass rained down over me. I screamed and covered my head. Someone shouted outside. Boots stomped across the porch. The door flew open, and a man I didn’t recognize stepped inside — tall, built like a tank, a snake tattoo curling up his neck.
He pointed a gun right at me.
“Found the girl,” he said, grinning. “Boss’ll pay good for her.”
Before I could move, before I could even scream again, a blur of black leather slammed into him.
Jax.
They hit the wall hard, the gun going off, a hole tearing through the ceiling. Jax punched him once, twice, three times — until the man went limp. The gun hit the floor with a heavy thud.
Jax turned to me, breathing hard. “You okay?”
I nodded, shaking, eyes wide.
He helped me up. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving? Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Safe?”
- Writer
