Chapter 2 Chapter two

~MAN ON BLACK~

DIANA’S POV

One of the bikers swerved toward me, and a second one followed right behind. The sharp crack of a gunshot echoed through the night.

My car jerked violently, and the steering wheel suddenly became hard to turn. Two more shots rang out, and my tire exploded. The car skidded across the road, but I fought with the wheel and managed to stop just before hitting a pile of old cars by the roadside. I sat there in the quiet car, breathing in rough gasps.

They were still coming for me. Looking down at my heels, I knew there was no way I could outrun anyone in them. I kicked the shoes off, grabbed my phone, and shoved the car door open. Then I ran barefoot straight into the dark. Just moments ago, I was rushing toward a new life of freedom, but now I was running simply to stay alive.

I ran from one junked car to another, keeping my body low as I moved through the abandoned lot. My lungs burned with every step, but I could not stop.

The bikers began to split up, their loud engines shutting off one after another until a heavy silence filled the air. Spotting a narrow opening beneath a rusted car, I dropped down and crawled under it right as footsteps approached. That was when a sharp, burning pain suddenly shot through my arm.

I bit down on my lip to keep from making a sound, realizing a bullet must have grazed me during the chase. Pressing my palm firmly over the wound, I held it tight and tried to steady my breathing. I just needed them to leave. Once the area was clear, I could make a run for the outskirts of the property and find somewhere safe to hide.

Then I heard the frustrated voice of the vice president. “We must find her alive! Search everywhere!”

My heart pounded as I realized they were not going to stop searching. I stayed frozen under the car until the voices and heavy footsteps finally began to fade. Once I was sure the area was clear, I crawled out, pulled out my phone, and set a two-minute timer.

I turned the volume all the way up, set the phone on the dirt, and slipped away into the shadows. I had barely covered any ground when the loud ringing suddenly pierced the silence.

It worked. Footsteps thundered toward the noise, accompanied by angry men shouting over one another. I did not wait to watch. I ran as fast as I could, my mouth open as I gasped for air, letting my legs carry me far away from them.

My lungs screamed, my injured arm throbbed, and every instinct in my body told me to keep moving.

A sudden gunshot cracked through the night, making me flinch as I realized they knew I had escaped again. I pushed my tired body harder, but a motorcycle abruptly shot out of nowhere. I barely had time to react before the rider swerved sharply, missing me by inches.

The movement was so smooth and controlled that it looked completely effortless. He brought the motorcycle to a stop, his bright headlights blinding me for a moment. Once my vision cleared, I saw a man in dark clothing and a helmet, sitting calmly on the bike as if he had not just nearly run me over.

My heart lurched. Had they caught me?

Before I could turn and run, the man reached out a hand toward me. “Get on the bike right now, or die here.”

I looked at his outstretched hand and then at him. He spoke with a deep, authoritative tone that left no room for argument. I stepped forward and moved around the bike to look it over. It carried no club patch or markings that connected him to my pursuers. That was all the assurance I needed.

“Will you continue standing there?” he asked, “Because I won’t think twice about letting them finish you off.”

I looked back and saw the bikers drawing closer. With no time left to hesitate, I grabbed the stranger's hand and climbed onto the rear seat. I would rather face death with a complete stranger than go back to the people I had trusted with my life.

The moment I settled in behind him, gunshots erupted into the night while the pursuing engines roared near us. The stranger twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle shot forward into the dark.

I grabbed his waist as we tore through the darkness, my body pressed against his back as he maneuvered through the road with terrifying precision. Every time a bullet came too close, he ducked or swerved with an instinctive skill I had never seen before.

I tightened my arms around his chest, holding on tightly as the wind whipped violently against my face. At that point, I was not sure whether I had just escaped death or was riding straight into something far more dangerous.

It wasn’t until I noticed that the bikers were nowhere behind us that I finally allowed myself to breathe. We had reached a busy street, surrounded by cars, lights, and people. The chaos of the city felt strangely comforting after the silence and darkness we’d just escaped.

I considered asking the stranger to pull over so I could go my own way, but I knew better. The gang was still hunting for me. They would never stop searching, and I simply could not take that risk.

Still, one question bothered me deeply. How had he managed to enter the club's territory in the first place?

The grounds were strictly guarded, and outsiders were never permitted inside. Yet he had shown up as though he owned the place. As the question of his identity echoed in my head, I held onto him a little tighter. After riding a bit longer, he veered onto a silent road and brought the motorcycle to a halt before a small bungalow.

I looked around and saw that the place was surrounded by several men in suits. My instincts immediately screamed danger. Great, I had escaped one dangerous group only to fall straight into the hands of another. The moment the motorcycle came to a complete halt, I was already planning my next move. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I would find a way to run.

One of the suited men approached us. "Welcome back, boss."

I climbed off the motorcycle and took a cautious step back, keeping my eyes on everyone around me. The stranger remained seated for a moment. Then he reached up and began unfastening his helmet.

My eyes locked back onto the rider. He seemed large when I was clinging to his back, but seeing him up close made him appear even more massive. His shoulders were broad, his build imposing, and every movement he made was smooth and measured.

My curiosity to know his identity pushed past my fear. I wanted to look at the man who had rescued me from the gang. Slowly, he lifted the helmet from his head, and I finally saw him.