Page 4 of Shadow

And yet, a small part of her couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, these outsiders could be her salvation. If they had gotten rid of Rigs, maybe they had also taken care of the other Reapers.

Of course these men could be as bad as Rigs and his MC. The thought turned her stomach.

The jingle of keys reached Camilla’s ears and her instincts kicked into overdrive, prompting her to back away from the door with a sense of primal fear.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the hinges creaked open, her dimly lit room was flooded with blinding light. She winced as a flashlight beam pierced through the darkness, casting stark shadows against the cold stone walls.

When was the last time she had seen the sun, felt its warmth on her skin?

The thought lingered in the back of her mind as she squinted against the harsh glare, her eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Finally, as her vision cleared, a whimper clawed its way up her throat as she caught sight of the figure standing in the doorway—a tall, muscular man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, clad in a leather jacket.

Another biker, she realized with a sinking feeling. For a moment, their eyes met, and Camilla found herself unable to tear her gaze from his. There was something about those dark-blue eyes, something that softened the hard lines of his face and made her pulse quicken with an unfamiliar sensation. Was it possible that this man, too, was a threat to her safety, or could he be something else entirely?

Seconds stretched into eternity as Camilla stood frozen, her mind racing with doubts and fears. Then, to her surprise, the biker tucked the flashlight away and extended a big, callused hand toward her.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he said.

She stared at his hand numbly, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. Was this some sort of trick, a cruel deception designed to lure her into a false sense of security? Growing up in the Hernandez family, Camilla had learned not to trust easily.

“Consider everyone enemies until they’ve proven themselves to be your allies,” her brother often liked to say.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again,” the biker insisted, his voice steady and reassuring.

Camilla couldn’t bring herself to believe his words. Promises were just empty words, easily broken and forgotten. Still, something in his demeanor gave her pause. He seemed genuine, his intentions clear as he waited patiently for her response.

Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and grasped his hand, her fingers trembling slightly with uncertainty. With a gentle tug, the biker helped her to her feet, his touch surprisingly tender.

“My friends call me Shadow. What’s your name?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Camilla’s shoulders shook with emotion, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to find her voice.

Shadow waited patiently, his gaze unwavering as he offered her a comforting presence amidst her turmoil.

Unable to hold back any longer, Camilla felt the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble. With a choked sob, she allowed herself to break apart, her tears flowing freely as she buried her face in the chest of this stranger.

It felt surreal, this moment of vulnerability shared with someone she barely knew. Was this a dream, a figment of her imagination born from the depths of her despair?

Or perhaps she had died in her cell, and this was the afterlife she had always feared. Shadow reached out to stroke her hair with gentle reassurance, and she knew with certainty this was indeed reality. In that moment, she found solace in the simple act of human kindness.

After awhile, Camilla silently berated herself for falling apart, forcing herself to take deep breaths to regain control of her emotions. She couldn’t afford to break down now, not when there was still so much at stake. Shadow didn’t know who she was yet and that was a blessing in disguise.

Summoning every ounce of strength she possessed, she finally found her voice.

“My name is Camilla,” she said, hating the slight tremble in her voce.

“Camilla, okay. It’s nice to meet you,” Shadow replied. “Now let’s get you and the other women out of this hellhole.”

****

Shadow and Camilla were the last to emerge from the prison. Camilla insisted she could walk on her own, but as they began to climb the stairs, her steps grew unsteady, wavering with each upward movement.

Shadow could see the disbelief in her eyes, lingering traces of fear and uncertainty. He couldn’t even begin to imagine being in her shoes, trapped in the darkness with no hope of escape. Wordlessly, he offered her his arm, and after a few moments of hesitation, she accepted, her grip firm yet fragile against his own.

There was something about this woman, something different from the others Rooster and he had rescued. She carried herself with a quiet strength, a resilience that belied the horrors she had endured.

Judging by the the state of her clothes and body, she had been here awhile but somehow, Camilla had maintained her dignity and pride.

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