Page 18 of Raiden

What an odd duck my husband is, as a man and especially as a biker. What manwantsto share power with anyone?

“I stepped into it when shit went down. I never wanted it, but I’m getting used to it,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “I just want to be beside Gray. The club is everything to me, but it’s his sun I always craved.”

Anyone less might think that’s more than a friendly statement, but being so close to my dad’s club, I’ve seen the way brotherhood is redefined there. A good number of men end up in clubs or gangs because they don’t have family, and they didn’t fitanywhere else and to them it’s not just brotherhood. It’s a sacred bond that could never be put into words.

My ass is numb from sitting on it and my back is starting to ache. The night’s chill is rising up from the ground, into my bones. I stretch and can’t help a shiver.

“Are you cold?”

“A little. I’m mostly just uncomfortable.”

“Lie down.”

I cap the water bottle. I’m not too proud to spread out along the ground. It’s not the least bit comfortable. There are sharp things—god knows what—digging into the whole length of me, but at least I can stretch my aching back.

I go completely still when I hear the rustle as Raiden moves. He slides in behind me and edges up so that our bodies touch, spine to spine. My stomach clenches. My breath catches. Heat spirals down from my belly, landing in a throbbing ache between my legs.

He doesn’t turn and wrap his arm around me and hug me in against him. He doesn’t get mushy and spoon me. I’m still a stranger he doesn’t trust, the enemy’s daughter, the MC princess of the wrong club. I might be his wife, and we might have had a conversation that involved us not wanting to stab each other, but that’sonestep. I didn’t expect him to let down his guard and get any closer than he is. This man is an outlaw, a biker, and he spent time in prison. That does something to a person. He’s dealt with betrayal, trauma, and some unexpected truths over the past few months. He has his own life, his own feelings, and I have mine.

When we fuck, I have no doubt it will be spectacular, but I don’t expect cuddling or sweetness before or after. Even in my old, semi-respectable life when I dated regular men, there wasn’t much of that. I wonder, if after all the bullshit I’ve been through, if I’d even be up for it.

If it was anyone else, that answer would likely be a hard no.

If it’s not a no with Raiden, it’s just another reason I should keep a proper distance between us.

I’ve never felt such a contradictory way in my life.

“No one’s thoughts should be that loud,” Raiden complains. “Go to sleep if you can. I’ll stay awake.”

“To keep watch against the bears?”

A heartbeat of unspoken accusation shimmers in the night like a cloud above us. I know what he’s truly worried about. Maybe not up here, but everywhere else. It’s a hard life, always looking over your shoulder, especially for a man conditioned to being locked in the most dangerous sort of cage.

“They’re not here anymore. My dad or any of his men. I’d tell you if they were or they were planning on betraying you.” A niggling, horrible thought slithers inside my skull.Would you even know? Would you see it coming?

He doesn’t respond. That’s the end of it.

Despite the cold and the hunger, the whine and annoyance of the insects, my thirst that I’m pretending doesn’t exist, all the overwhelming change that makes my brain buzz like an old lightbulb that won’t ever shut off, I tunnel into the silent parts of myself, the dark and the expanse of nothing whereI sometimes go when I don’t want to think or feel much of anything.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t help to have Raiden at my back, hard and huge and warm.

It’s probably best that all we’ll ever be in this marriage is the way we are now. Back-to-back out of necessity, slightly protective of each other, breathing the same air but never understanding one another fully, our hearts and souls guarded.

I couldn’t afford anything less even back before my father.

I can afford it even less now.

Chapter 7

Raiden

As I kept watch, the night went from black to a bruised navy blue. It finally gave way to grey and then to a watery yellow.

I don’t like being out here like this. Helpless.

I don’t like any of this, least of all the thoughts that plagued me all night while I was awake, keeping watch.

Maybe Gray sent me up here for more than just Widow. I’ve never voiced the shit in my head to anyone, but prison fucks a guy up and it doesn’t take too much imagination to see how institutionalization is a real thing. I’m used to hard beds, sometimes barely sleeping, but above all, bars, floors, and ceilings. Small contained spaces. Food at regular intervals.

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