Page 95 of Cedarwood Cabin
“Hey, British, how's your father?”
The mention of my father sends a shock wave of pain through me. Dax stiffens beside me, anger reigniting. He starts to turn back, but I give a hard yank on his hand, my eyes begging him not to react. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I refuse to let Jonny see how his words cut so deep.
We finally reach the ATVs and I can feel my composure slipping.
Dax and Lyka don't waste another second. We ride off into the forest at lightning speed and I hold on tight as the wind whips my hair in my face. The forest seems to blur around us, the trees a rush of green and brown. I can’t shake the memory of Jonny’s mean comment. It lingers in my mind—a reminder of the outside world. How cruel it was.
We pull into the garage and the tension is still high. Dax hops off the ATV, pacing back and forth. He picks up a helmet off of a nearby table and sends it flying across the room. It hits the wall with a loud thud. I instinctively step back as fear rises at the sight of his uncontrolled anger.
“I need to go back there and kill them! No one speaks to you like that!” Dax roars, turning around to face me, his face inches from mine. His eyes are wild. He's furious. I can feel the heat of his breath and I'm trembling.
Before I can even react, Lyka slides between us. “Calm the fuck down, dude!” he orders.
Dax's fists clench, his eyes darting wildly around the room as he storms over to the wall, beginning to punch into it. I can see his knuckles start bleeding, leaving smears of red on the wall. Lyka runs toward him and snatches Dax's hand before he can punch the wall again. “Enough, Dax!” Lyka demands as he locks onto Dax's wrist.
I've never seen this side of Dax before.
Dark. Feral. Utterly terrifying.
I look at him and once again he's a stranger to me. I step back and my back hits the cold metal of the ATV behind me. Fear must be written across my face because Lyka looks over his shoulder at me, his expression softening.
“You’re fucking scaring her,” Lyka says more softly. His grip on Dax's wrist loosens, but still firm enough to constrain him.
Dax looks over at me. The rage is replaced with regret, perhaps even shame. He unfurls his fists slowly and Lyka lets go.
Dax takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. His knuckles are raw and bleeding. “I'm sorry…” he finally mutters, perhaps more to himself than us. “I just, I can't stand that asshole.”
Dax inhales deeply again; his shoulders slumping as the adrenaline rush dies down. He turns toward me and his expression softens. “You shouldn't have seen that,” he says, looking down.
Still in shock, I nod. “It's okay,” I say, though I don't even believe myself. I’m not okay.
Lyka steps closer and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Let's get you inside,” he says, guiding me gently toward the door.
I look back as we move away. Dax hasn't budged an inch, still standing by the wall, staring down at his bloodied hands. The darkness I saw in him stays with me.
TWENTY-FOUR
FLORA
I slide into the hot water, the warmth curling around me, seeping into my stiff muscles. The events of the day swirl through my mind.
Is this my life now, being a captive to two biker brothers?
So very different from five years ago. My parents were alive and I was living in London. Life seemed so much easier. Predictable. But how happy was I really? I had nobody but my parents. Now, trapped in this cabin, my captors are as close as it gets to human connection. I dunk my head in the water, letting it rise well over my ears, closing off the world. I shut my eyes, letting my thoughts go wild. I think of Dax and Lyka, their touches, words, anger, protectiveness, and shocking tenderness.
Am I falling for them? Do I care about them? Or is it just the result of being held captive, a psychological trick in my mind?
The Faulkner brothers haunt my mind, making me feel scared yet strangely safe.
I forget I'm underwater. Panic surges and my lungs start to ache for air. I lift my head upwards and break the surface with a gasp, the water cascading down my face. I draw a deep breath, feeling the heart pound against my chest. I lean backward on the rim of the tub, wiping at the water on my face. The sound of footsteps outside the bathroom door pulls me back to reality. I tense up, wondering which brother it is. The door opens a crack and Dax peers through, his face a picture of concern. “All good in here?” he asks.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He steps inside, his gaze scanning the room until it finally rests on me. Something in his expression when he looks at me makes my heart flutter to life despite everything.
“You've been in here a while,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “Just wanted to make sure you're alright.”
“Yeah, just thinking…”
Dax just nods, his expression impossible to read. “Well, don't stay in too long. We need you downstairs soon.”
