The door bangs open again, and Klutch, Train, and Morpheus pour in, followed by Chief.
“What the fuck is going on?” Chief asks, his voice deceptively calm as his eyes assess the situation.
“This son of a bitch was fucking with my girl,” Rambler says, not taking his eyes off Eddie.
Eddie straightens his cut, eyes bouncing between the men in the room as he wipes the blood from his mouth. “This ain’t over. Not by a long shot.”
The bathroom door swings open again, and three men wearing Dirty Devils cuts step in. They flank Eddie, eyeing Rambler and the Saints warily.
“Problem, brother?” one of them asks Eddie.
Eddie jerks his chin toward me. “That’s my woman.”
“I’m not your woman,” I snap, my voice stronger than I feel. “I haven’t been for a long time.”
Eddie’s eyes flash dangerously. “You’re mine until I say you’re not.”
The door opens once again, and more men from both clubs squeeze inside the ladies room.
The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife as the two clubs face off.
Chief steps forward, his calm authority diffusing some of the tension. “We don’t want trouble. We’re just here for the run.”
The Dirty Devils president, a massive man with a shaved head and a scar running from his temple to his chin, steps up. “Then keep your boys in check. Eddie says the bitch is his.”
Klutch steps forward, his eyes narrowed to slits. Shit.
Chief’s arm shoots out to stop him. “The girl says differently,” he counters. “And I’m inclined to believe her over the mother fucker who followed her into a women’s bathroom.”
The two presidents stare each other down for what feels like an eternity.
Finally, the Dirty Devils president nods slightly.
“What the fuck?” Eddie shouts, but baldy holds up his hand to silence him.
“We’ll let it go. For now.”
Eddie spits near my feet, his eyes burning with hatred. “You can run, Savannah, but you can’t hide forever.”
His words send ice through my veins.
Rambler’s arm comes around me protectively as Chief announces it’s time to go. “Let’s go, fellas. We’re getting back on the road. Now.”
I feel numb as Rambler guides me out of the bathroom and across the parking lot to his bike. My legs move on autopilot, but my mind is racing.
Eddie knows that I’m with the Saitnts now. It’s only a matter of time until he pops up. And when he does… I’m dead.
Without a word, Rambler puts my helmet on my head, fastens the chin strap. and puts me on the back of his bike. I watch in a daze as he climbs on in front of me. “Hold on tight, butterfly.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his back. We pull out of the parking lot with the rest of the Saints following close behind. I don’t look back, but I know Eddie’s eyes are on us.
We ride for about an hour, my arms clutching Rambler’s waist so tightly my fingers ache. I don’t even know where we’re going, and I don’t care as long as it’s far away from my ex.
When we finally stop at a rest area, I’m still trembling. Rambler helps me off the bike with gentle hands, then leads me over to a picnic table away from the others, his hand steady at the small of my back.
“Want to tell me who that really was?” Rambler asks, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the hardness in his eyes.
I take a deep breath and look around to make sure no one else can hear us. “Eddie. My ex.”
