Chapter 1 - Holly

I stand outside the grimy door of the biker bar, my heart pounding like a jackhammer against my ribs. The neon "Open" sign buzzes and flickers, casting an eerie red glow over the cracked pavement.

I gaze at the rusty metal door covered in dents and peeled paint. Is this really where my son has been spending his nights?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the horrible scenarios playing through my mind. Drunken fights, drugs, gangs - the dangers seem endless.

I told Jayden, again and again, to stay away from here, that these bikers are nothing but trouble. But he never listens to me anymore, not since his father walked out on us years ago.

He craves the acceptance of those rough men and yearns for the family he lost. And I? I've failed miserably at keeping him from going down this risky path.

I draw in a shaky breath and clench my fists, mustering every ounce of courage. My son's well-being outweighs any apprehension I feel towards this sinister bar. I must go in there and drag him out, by force if necessary. Squaring my shoulders, I grasp the dented metal handle and pull…

A waft of stale beer and cigarette smoke hits me square in the face. I cough, waving a hand in front of my face as my eyes water.

The dim bar is packed with burly, leather-clad bikers. Loud rock music blares from a jukebox in the corner. Pool tables line one wall, where several bikers are gathered, slamming balls around and hooting.

My gaze darts around the cramped space, searching for any sign of Jayden. I spot him near the back with a couple of older, bearded bikers. A cold dread settles in my stomach as I watch him take a long drag from a cigarette and laugh at something one of the men says.

I march towards him, pushing through the crowd of tough bikers. A few of them leer at me, their eyes roaming in a way that makes my skin crawl. One biker lets out a low whistle as I pass. I hug my arms tighter around myself, keeping my head down.

Finally, I reach him and grab his shoulder, spinning him around to face me.

"Jayden Knox, just what do you think you're doing here?"

He blinks at me with bloodshot eyes, clearly drunk.

"Mom? Whaddya doin' here?" he slurs.

"What do you think you're doing here?" I hiss, giving his shoulder a hard shake. "Drinking? Smoking? With these...these people?"

Jayden scowls and shrugs off my grip.

"Relax, mom. I'm just hanging out with the guys." He gestures lazily to the two bikers beside him, who are eyeing me with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, the kid's alright with us," one of them rumbles and takes a long drag from his cigarette. "Why don't you join us for a drink, sweetheart?"

My stomach turns at the leer in his eyes as he looks me over. I grab Jayden's arm and yank him off the barstool.

"We're leaving. Now."

"Aw, c'mon mom!" Jayden whines, stumbling drunkenly.

He tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip.

The other biker leans across the bar, eyes narrowed, "The kid wants to stay. Why don't you mind your own business?"

My heart is pounding in my ears as I glare at the two bikers. Part of me wants to shrink back under their intimidating gazes. But the bigger part, the mom part, stands my ground.

"He's sixteen years old!" I snap, pulling Jayden towards the exit. "So, unless you want the cops involved, back off!"

The two bikers burst out laughing.

"You hear that, Rog?" one of them sneers. "The little lady thinks she can just waltz in here and take our drinking buddy."

Rog shakes his head, still chuckling.

"I don't think so, sweetheart. The way I see it, your brat's old enough to make his own choices. And he chose to stay with us." He leans across the bar, cold eyes locking on mine. "So why don't you fuck off before you and your kid get your asses kicked?"

My mouth goes dry as Jayden gapes at them in shock, "B-But...I thought we were all friends?"

The bikers throw back their heads and laugh again.

"Friends?" Rog hoots. "Nah, kid. Your money was good, that's all."

White-hot anger flares in my chest as I glare at the two men.

"You...You used my son?"

Before I can react, Rog vaults over the bar towards me, moving with surprising speed for his bulky frame. He grabs my arm in a vice-like grip and yanks me close, his rancid breath fanning over my face.

"You know, I'm having second thoughts about letting you two go," he growls, giving me an appraising look that makes me feel sick.

I try to squirm away, but his grip is unbreakable. Where is everyone? Why isn't anyone helping us? I open my mouth to scream for help when a booming voice cuts through the din.

"Get your hands off her. Now."

Rog whips around, still gripping my arm tightly. A massive, imposing biker is striding towards us, his face set in a hard glare.

"Well, well, if it ain't Chance coming to spoil our fun," Rog sneers, pushing me behind him roughly.

The biker - Chance - cracks his knuckles as he approaches.

"Fun's over, you piece of garbage. Let the lady go before I make you."

Rog barks out a laugh, "Is that so? You and what army?"

In a flash, Rog's buddy comes barreling over, fists raised. He takes a wild swing at Chance, but the bigger biker ducks easily and slams his fist into the guy's gut. He doubles over, wheezing.

"That would be my army," Chance rumbles.

I shrink back, half-shielding Jayden as Rog shoves me aside and launches himself at Chance with a roar. The two men grapple, and trade blows that seem to shake the whole bar. Chance may be bigger, but Rog is scrappier, clawing and kicking to try and gain an edge.

A stray punch catches Chance's jawbone with a sickening crunch. He staggers back, then wipes a trickle of blood from his split lip, fury blazing in his eyes. Before Rog can react, Chance tackles him to the ground in a tangle of fists and flesh.

I clutch Jayden close as the brutal fight unfolds. I've never seen such rage and violence. Part of me wants to run, but my feet are rooted in place, unable to tear my eyes away.

Chance lands one final, brutal punch that sends Rog crumpling to the floor, out cold. He rises to his feet, chest heaving, and spits a mouthful of blood onto the unconscious man.

As he straightens up, adjusting his dirtied leather vest, I can't help but stare. Despite the split lip and blossoming bruise on his jaw, he cuts an intimidatingly rugged figure - a thick beard framing his chiseled features, icy dark eyes surveying the room, those broad shoulders seemingly twice as wide as any regular man's.

Jayden tugs my sleeve, jolting me from my daze.

"Mom...should we go now?" he whispers uncertainly.

I open my mouth to respond, but Chance beats me to it.

"You two aren't going anywhere," he rumbles, turning that piercing gaze on us. "Not until this situation gets solved."

He glares down at the groaning Rog and the other biker still clutching his stomach on the floor.

"You heard me, didn't you?" Chance demands, his voice filling the now-silent bar. "I said get your hands off her. You two mugs have gotten a lil' too big for your trousers around here."

Rog pushes himself up on one elbow, holding a hand to his bloody nose.

"Y-Yessir, we heard you...didn't mean no disrespect to the Rogue Riders."

A shudder seems to go through the crowd at the mention of the Rogue Riders. Chance gives a curt nod.

"That's right. And this is my bar. So, you two idiots, time to get out of here, and don't let me catch you back unless you want another ass-whooping."

Scrambling to their feet, Rog and his buddy don't need to be told twice. They hustle out the door, shooting fearful looks over their shoulders.