Mae's footsteps echoed faintly as she made her way down the quiet, dimly lit corridor of Hell's Angels. The club had just closed for the night, but the lingering scent of alcohol, sweat, and desperation still clung to the air like an oppressive fog. It had been a long night—one where she had given her all on the stage, pushing herself to perform at her best. And yet, the usual thrill of the crowd's adoration felt hollow, muted by the gnawing fear that had been growing inside her.

The text messages still sat unread on her phone, their stark warnings burned into her mind. She had received the latest one just an hour ago, as she was finishing up her last set:

"You think you're safe? We're watching. You won't be able to run."

A chill had crept down her spine as she read the message, and despite the club's booming music and flashing lights, a deep sense of unease settled into her bones. She hadn't responded to the texts; she didn't know what to say or who was even sending them. And the thought that it could be someone inside the club—someone close to her—made it even worse.

Reaching her dressing room, Mae paused for a moment, her hand hovering over the door handle. Her reflection stared back at her from the small mirror down the hallway, her black hair falling over her shoulders in loose waves. She had always prided herself on her strength, on the control she had over her life and her choices. But lately, that control had been slipping, crumbling under the weight of secrets she wasn't even sure she wanted to uncover.

Finally, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind her with a soft click. The familiar comfort of her dressing room wasn't enough to ease her anxiety tonight. Every shadow in the room seemed longer, darker, and the small space suddenly felt suffocating.

Mae slumped down in front of her vanity, her mind racing. She hadn't told anyone about the texts—not even Charlie. Something about the warnings made her feel like she couldn't trust anyone, not completely. And while Charlie had always been protective, sometimes overly so, there was a distance between them now. A distance that she couldn't quite bridge.

Her phone buzzed again, the sound startling her in the silence. Mae's hand trembled as she picked it up, her heart hammering in her chest. Another message. This one was worse.

"You've gone too far. Next time, we'll come to you."

She dropped the phone onto the table, her pulse racing. They had warned her before, but this time, it was different. It wasn't just a vague threat—it was a promise. They were coming for her, and Mae had no idea when or where it would happen.

She stood up abruptly, pacing the small space as panic began to set in. Every sound outside the room made her flinch. Her breathing quickened, her hands shaking as she tried to think of a way out of this nightmare. But the more she thought about it, the more trapped she felt.

The club, which had once felt like a place of power and freedom, now felt like a cage. The walls were closing in, and she couldn't shake the feeling that every move she made was being watched. Whoever was behind the messages was playing a game, and Mae was at their mercy.

She had to talk to Charlie. He was the only one who could help her now. But even as she thought it, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. Could she really trust him? The deeper she got into his world, the more questions she had. He knew things—too many things—and while he had always been there for her, there was a darkness in him that she couldn't ignore.

Just as Mae was about to grab her phone and call him, a soft knock came at her door. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. It was late—too late for anyone to be knocking. The club was empty, and no one should be here.

Another knock, louder this time.

"Mae, it's me."

Charlie's voice.

Relief washed over her for a split second, but then the fear returned. Why was he here? And why now?

Mae hesitated, her hand on the door. "What is it?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"I need to talk to you. It's important."

There was something off about his tone—something more serious than usual. Mae slowly unlocked the door and opened it just a crack. Charlie stood on the other side, his face unreadable in the dim light of the hallway.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of what she was thinking.

Mae stepped aside, letting him in. The room felt even smaller with him in it, his presence commanding as always. He closed the door behind him and turned to face her, his expression hard to read.

"What's going on?" Mae asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Charlie didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked to the vanity and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the tension between them was almost unbearable.

"I've noticed you've been on edge lately," he said finally. "You've been acting different. What's going on, Mae?"

Mae's heart raced. She didn't know if she should tell him about the messages. But then again, he was right—he had noticed something was wrong, and maybe he could help. She took a deep breath and decided to take the chance.

"I've been getting messages," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Threats. They're telling me to stop asking questions, to leave the club. And now they're saying... they're coming for me."

Charlie's eyes darkened, his expression hardening. He stood up straighter, his jaw clenched as he processed her words.

"Who's sending these messages?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I don't know," Mae said, her voice trembling. "I thought it might be you at first, but now... I don't think it is."

Charlie's eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond to her accusation. Instead, he stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out to gently cup her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"I would never hurt you, Mae," he said softly, his thumb brushing against her skin. "You know that, right?"

Mae nodded, but the doubt still lingered. There was so much she didn't know about him—so much he kept hidden. And while his touch was gentle, there was a darkness in his eyes that she couldn't ignore.

Charlie dropped his hand and took a step back. "I'll take care of this," he said, his voice cold and resolute. "Whoever's behind this, they'll regret it."

Mae swallowed hard. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he could protect her. But deep down, she knew that this was only the beginning. The threats were real, and no matter how much control Charlie had, there were forces at play that even he couldn't stop.

As Charlie left the room, Mae's phone buzzed again.

"You can't hide forever, Mae. We're always watching." She didn't want to look. She didn't want to see what new horror awaited her. But she couldn't stop herself from picking up the phone.

"We're closer than you think."