The bikers made my abusive ex-husband disappear. Not with guns or fists or threats. With a job offer and a one-way ticket.
It’s been five years. He’s never come back. Never called. Never written.
Some people might say Kevin got off easy. That he deserved worse. Maybe they’re right. But I don’t care about Kevin’s punishment anymore. I care about my peace. My safety. My future.
The bikers gave me that.
Thomas says they’ll keep watching Kevin forever. “As long as the club exists, he’ll be monitored. That’s our promise.”
I believe him. Because in five years, they’ve never broken a promise to me.
My brother saved my life by trusting men most people fear. By looking past the leather and tattoos and seeing the helpers underneath.
If you’re reading this and you’re trapped like I was, know that there’s hope. Know that there are people who will help. They might not look like what you expect. They might ride motorcycles and have long beards and scary exteriors.
But sometimes the men everyone warns you about are the same men who will set you free.
I’m living proof.
