Page 41 of The Grief We Hold

RAVEN

We’re silent on the ride to the clubhouse, but Wraith’s palm sits warm on my thigh as I wrestle between my body and brain.

The sensible part of me, the woman who fled danger once and promised to never end up back in it, is sending huge red warning flags up into the air. Going anywhere with Wraith is a huge mistake.

Responding to his attention was understandable. My husband made me feel lonely for years. Wraith is an attractive man, both physically and in that utterly competent way he navigates the world.

Self-assured.

Capable.

But he’s a biker. A member of a notorious criminal enterprise. I don’t know what he’s done in the name of his club. He could be taking money from local businesses in the name of security, or killing people.

Yet my body is sucked back into that kiss.

I’ve never been kissed like that. Even from the small sample in the hallway, I know for sure that no man has ever moved me with his lips like Wraith did.

Every part of me came alive. For the last year of my marriage, I would flinch if my husband so much as breathed near me. But I lay back and did what I believed was my duty as a wife.

Yet with Wraith, my clit ached to be touched, and my peaked nipples brushed against the lace of my bra. My skin tightened across my body in anticipation of what might happen next.

Until I became logical again and pushed him away.

I lick my lips and swear I can still taste him.

Yes, he came for me. When he thought I might be in the path of danger, he didn’t leave me unprotected to face it alone. He pleaded with me to let him keep me safe.

“Stop overthinking,” Wraith says before squeezing my thigh.

I bite down on the side of my thumb as I look out the window. “How did you know?”

He huffs a laugh. “You’re easy to read, Blue.”

“So much for feminine mystique.”

There’s a high metal gate at the base of the trail to the clubhouse, with high cameras pointed at the road. It wouldn’t be enough to stop people on foot, as they could walk around it and cut through the dense and mature trees surrounding the property. But it is definitely intended to stop vehicles.

We approach a second gate, this one connected to a large security fence that must run around the clubhouse, and I’m relieved at the sight of it.

The club lot is chaotic as we pull in. There are trucks, bikes, men in the same leather vests that Wraith wears, and lots of weapons.

Nausea washes over me, my palms going cold and clammy. I feel safe with Wraith because I’m getting to know him as aperson, but there are so many others here. I don’t know who is good and who is?—

“Hey, Raven. Look at me.”

I didn’t even realize Wraith took my hand. He’s sandwiched it between his own.

“You’re safe here,” he reassures. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“I don’t know. This feels like a lot. Overwhelming for sure.”

Someone knocks on Wraith’s window, and I jump. “Butcher is looking for you,” the person shouts.

Wraith nods. “Let’s get you inside.”

“Would it be okay if I just stayed in the truck?”

He touches the side of my cheek. “I’d feel better knowing you’re inside. Listen, I have my own room here. It’s all mine and has a lock on the door. I don’t have time to introduce you to everyone right now, but you’ll be safe in there. And I’ll get Ember to stop by. She’s the president’s daughter. Okay?”

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