Page 15 of Whispers of Fire

Vox

Twenty-one fucking days since I last saw my angel, and I’m slowly but surely becoming more unhinged with each day spent without seeing her.

Ares sent me to Orlando to check our new gun supply chain. I’ve been there for three weeks with Viper and Steele, makin’ sure there were no cracks in the process. We found a few guys struggling to obey, so I took one of them and made an example out of him, cutting his tongue for daring to mess with the Raven Sons. The word will spread, and fear will loom over our men there like a constant fog.

Viper has been eyeing me like a bomb ready to explode since I cut the guy’s tongue. He offered to smash one of his fingers with a hammer, but I didn’t think it sent a strong enough message.

Also, I was on edge.

Watching Rose on my surveillance app made me feel like a lion stuck in a cage. I should have put more cameras in the house ‘cause seeing her only in the morning and at night before she slides under her covers isn’t enough anymore. I keep replayin’ each mornin’ when she fidgets in her bed, spreadin’ her arms up to stretch like the most fuckin’ adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my fucked-up life.

She wears a long brown nightdress that hides most of her gorgeous body. And the fucking worst of all is that I have forbidden myself to look at her when she gets dressed in the morning and undressed at night. Turning my head from the screen with difficulty, trying to respect her wish of keeping the sight of her skin hidden.

That’s how fucked I am.

Cutting men at work without an ounce of guilt but turning my eyes from Rose’s body like she could see me through the screen taking something that wasn’t freely given to me. All I can do is watch her as she looks out the window toward my house or takes the note from under her mattress and reads it again and again until she presses it to her chest, giving me a fucking heart attack the first time I saw her do it.

Her days seem long because she gets up with the sun and only comes back around nine, lookin’ more tired as each day passes. I like observing her and her habits, learnin’ about her routines, like the way she writes at her desk at the end of the day, or how she kneels and closes her eyes, joining her palms to pray each morning after gettin’ ready.

Wish I could tell her that the whole Faithful Lambs is all a lie, but I doubt she would believe me. Her so-called Leader comes by every month buying guns in our warehouse. It’s pretty far from the idea of having clean hands. But I’m fucking sure he doesn’t show that part of himself to his folks, keeping that dark side hidden like a shameful secret. Keeping the whole cult thing rolling must cost a lot, hence why he started the gun business, selling to the Russian mob in the north, outside our territory.

Fuckin’ rotten to the bone.

Hate guys like this, wolves hidden behind the appearance of a lamb. I’m not afraid of darkness, but I prefer a psycho to behave like one. The whole fakin’ things with a smile and nice banter fuckin’ puts me off. Never liked hypocrites, even more now that I know Rose is connected to him.

A strange feeling of protectiveness rises in me. It has happened more the last weeks, as I was watching her every day, looking for signs of mistreatment on her. It had become a part of my routine as well, a step I must do, otherwise I will be on edge, like a fuckin’ new OCD, lookin’ at my phone compulsively, even though I knew she wouldn’t be in her room before nine each day.

She looked okay, following her routine, watching the window every night before going to sleep, as if she was lookin’ for me, pouting her full lips in disappointment at not seeing me day after day. Despite my rules of staying away, I wanted to come home fast and see her. I tried hiding my annoyance in front of the guys, but as we’re drinking a beer at the motel bar to end the day, Viper calls me out.

“So, what’s her name?” he says with a large grin.

“What do you mean?” I answer, trying to avoid him digging. He laughs, his long beard moving as he shakes his head.

“You’ve been glued to your fuckin’ phone all week, like you were hypnotized or somethin’.” I swallow hard, mad at myself for not hiding it better. But he knows me well, he was already road-captain when I got my first cut. I know he means well, but talkin’ about… things that matter isn’t my forte.

“Nothin’, just want to go back. Don’t like bein’ here too long.”

“Yeah, alright,” he says, not buyin’ it for one second.

I finish my drink and feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but I resist the urge to look at it in front of Viper. Knowing my patience is about to snap, I stand up.

“Goin’ to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, brother.” He nods with a knowing smile but drops it. I almost jog to my room and take my phone out the second I close the door.

She's sitting on her bed, legs crossed, her palms holding her face. Her body convulses, and I get that she’s crying. Well, more like sobbing, actually. My chest tightens.

Fuck, why do I have to… feel? I don’t want that.

Getting closer to her is something I cannot do. My only goal is to fight for the club, making it stronger each time I get the chance and crushing our enemies to gain more territory.

I don’t need anything more.

But the sight of her crying makes me so fucking tense I punch the wall on my left, letting crumbs of it fall on the floor.

Seeing new notifications I haven’t had time to fully watch during the day, I notice a rather lively conversation with her mother in her room. Rose looks fucking mad and shakes her mom, grabbing her arms.

What’s goin’ on?

When her mom finally leaves, my angel curls up in her bed and sobs again. My hands start to shake.

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