Page 41 of Where We Ended

“You didn’t tell whoever it was that you were leaving?” I asked, completely exasperated.

“Didn’t realize I had to.” He lifted the phone to his ear. He began listing off directions to the gas station we were at and then within the next few minutes, two bikes rumbled down the road, followed by a double cab pick-up.

Wes Ryan and Killian Quinn slowed their bikes until they stopped in front of us. My heart lifted at the sight of them, but it nearly shot through my chest as I registered who was in the truck. Penelope’s dark hair was visible through the window, and I launched myself forward as Jameson parked.

Pen opened her door, jumped down and began running at me. Tears streamed down her beautiful face as she hiccupped and pulled me into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry. It was all my fault,” she murmured into my hair.

I held her so tight I worried I might break her. I’d never had any friends outside of Sasha and Silas that cared enough about me that they’d cry over my absence or go with their husband to pick me up during a raid.

“No, it wasn’t. Don’t put that on yourself, Pen. I got that text and left the club because of it.”

We separated, both of us crying as the men began talking to each other behind us.

“You came with Jameson?”

Penelope nodded. She had hair dark as a raven, it was long, nearly brushing her waist. With blue eyes, perpetually pink lips and thick lashes, she was a stunning bombshell. I’d met her when she’d arrived with Jameson King’s previous club, the Chaos Kings. She was pregnant when we met, which reminded me.

“Where’s Connor?”

Surely, they didn’t bring him with them.

Pen smiled. “Staying with Callie and Laura. They wanted to be here, but everyone agreed that it was too dangerous.”

“They’re right; I can’t believe you even came.” I flicked a quick gaze over to Silas who was watching me.

Penelope did the same, her gaze landing on her husband. “We didn’t know what sort of condition you’d be in. I suggested having a vehicle you could travel back in that didn’t put you at the mercy of the weather or being on the back of a bike.”

My best friend was a genius.

Her happy countenance fell when she saw the handcuff still connected to my wrist.

“Oh my god, Natty.”

Her whisper might as well have been a thunder crack. I wanted to go home. To my bed, my clothes, my safe room, protected by a club I knew. Besides, I already knew Silas wasn’t going to take me to Pyle. Fuck, he likely was never planning to come back and claim me in the first place.

“Let’s go home. I don’t want to be here anymore,” I muttered, pulling on Penelope’s arm.

She was about to guide me back when suddenly someone scooped me off the ground. I looked up and saw Silas, his expression grim and miserable as he carried me to the truck.

“You aren’t walking over all this asphalt and loose gravel without shoes.” His voice was all grit, holding just a thread of fear. His arms were so familiar and yet they weren’t because he’d opened them and let me go.

“Are you coming back with us?” I didn’t want to ask it for fear of his answer, but it would drive me crazy not knowing the whole way back.

Once we got to the truck, he set me in the back seat, letting his hands linger on my waist.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

With the click of the door, I watched through the glass as he stayed put, watching me. I wanted to scream that I wanted him beside me, not behind me but I was too tired. Emotions cracked and bruised my insides, forcing me into a tiny ball on the seat. I felt Penelope crawl in on the other side and her soothing voice tell me it was okay. My hair was moved from my face, but all I felt were the tears still streaming down my face.

TWELVE

NATTY

AGE NINETEEN

The warm air blew through the farmer’s market, rustling the small canopy I’d sewn for Sasha’s cart. Each week there was a line formed in front of our little spot, customers waiting to buy her fresh produce, eggs, herbs and even honey.

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