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Harlow looked toward Wade just in time to see him finally pull his hand from beneath the bar with a gun resting loosely in his grip. Her breath caught, not because of the weapon, but because Wade looked completely unbothered holding it—like it belonged there and violence was as natural to him as breathing.

He looked toward one of the men sitting near the pool table. “Lock the back entrance too.”

“Already done, Wade,” the man said.

Wade nodded at the guy before his gaze returned to Harlow. “You bring this kind of trouble with you everywhere you go?”

Despite everything, heat rose in her cheeks. “I didn’t exactly plan this.” One corner of his mouth twitched slightly. It wasn’t quite a smile, but somehow worse.

Outside, Frank pounded on the door again, harder this time. “Harlow!” She jumped, and Wade noticed that too. The look that crossed his face then was subtle enough that most people probably wouldn’t have caught it, but Harlow did, because for one brief second, he looked angry. Not at her, but for her, and somehow, that scared her most of all.

Harlow had spent most of her life around dangerous men—politicians, lawyers, and even businessmen like her father. They were all men who smiled for cameras while destroying people behind closed doors. But the men inside Wade’s Watering Hole seemed different. They didn’t pretend to be good, and that should’ve terrified her more than it did. Instead, for the first time all night, she felt something dangerously close to safe.

Another bang rattled the front door, and she could tell that Frank was losing his patience. That never ended well. “You got about ten seconds before I kick this fucking door in,” Frank shouted.

One of the bikers snorted. “I’d pay money to watch him try.” A few of the others laughed darkly. Harlow’s stomach twisted tighter. They didn’t understand who Frank really was. This wasn’t some angry fiancé chasing after a runaway bride. Frank had men backing him. He was powerful and had connections—the kind that made police reports disappear and witnesses suddenly change their stories. And her father—God, her father would absolutely side with Frank. He already had.

Wade stepped out from behind the bar, the movement instantly silencing the room. The gun remained loose in his hand, hanging casually at his side as he walked toward her. Harlow’s pulse jumped harder with every step he took. Up close, he was overwhelming—tall, broad shoulders, and covered in tattoos beneath a black Henley that stretched across his chest and arms. His dark beard was trimmed short, but there was nothing polished about him. He looked rough in the way storms felt rough. He looked like the kind of man a woman should avoid, but when he stopped in front of her, his voice stayed calm.

“You hungry?” he asked.

The question caught her so off guard that she blinked silently at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, “are you hungry?” he asked again. Another violent pound hit the door, making Harlow jump. Wade’s eyes narrowed slightly at the reaction before he looked toward the kitchen area. “Mitch, make her something.”

“The kitchen’s closed,” a voice called back.

“I’ll pay you overtime,” Wade said, not taking his eyes off her.

“I’ve got places to be,” the man called from the kitchen. The biker muttered something under his breath before disappearing through the swinging doors.

Harlow stared at Wade like he’d lost his mind. “There are armed men outside.”

“Yeah.” He sounded bored. “I know.” Yeah, this man was completely off his rocker.

“They’re dangerous,” she shouted back at him.

“So am I,” Wade grumbled. The words settled low in her stomach in a way they absolutely should not have.

Outside, Frank’s voice turned cold enough to freeze blood. “Harlow,” he shouted. “If you make me come in there, you’re gonna regret it.” Fear slammed into her chest so hard she took a step backward instinctively.

Wade walked back into the barroom and stood next to her. His jaw flexed. “You always scare this easily around him?” The question shouldn’t have embarrassed her, but somehow it did.

Harlow wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “You don’t know him.”

“No,” Wade agreed evenly. “But I know fear, and I can see it in your eyes, honey.” Something in his voice made her look up at him. He wasn’t mocking her, but he wasn’t pitying her either. He seemed to be just observing her, like he was putting pieces together inside his head.

Another biker approached from the back, older than the others with gray streaking his beard. “Butcher’s on his way,” the man said. Several men straightened immediately at that, and even Wade’s expression shifted slightly.

“He’s the Prez of the Savage Bastards—our biker club,” he said as though she needed some explanation. Great—this was exactly what she needed, more bikers. Harlow rubbed her suddenly freezing hands together and tried not to panic. None of this was real. It couldn’t be. A few hours ago, she had been standing inside a ballroom filled with crystal chandeliers while people waited for her to say her vows, and now, she was hiding inside a biker bar wearing a ruined wedding dress while armed men hunted her. Her entire life had detonated in a single night.

The front door handle suddenly jerked violently, followed by the sound of metal cracking echoed through the room. Harlow sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, that was stupid,” one of the bikers muttered.

Wade moved before she fully realized what was happening. One second, he was beside her, and the next, he was standing directly in front of the door with the gun resting low at his side. Calm, steady, and deadly. The room seemed to shift around him somehow, every Savage Bastard immediately alert and ready.

Harlow’s pulse pounded violently as the deadbolt strained again before Frank shouted through the door. “You have no idea who you’re protecting.” His deep voice rolled through the bar quietly and cold enough to make chills spread across Harlow’s skin.

“You got no idea where the fuck you are,” Wade growled, opening the door with his gun pointed at Frank’s face. “But I think that it’s time for you to leave. The lady doesn’t want to marry you. Accept defeat and walk away while you still can.” Harlow looked between the two of them, not sure that she had even so much as taken a breath in the last five minutes.