Page 72 of Debt of My Soul

I huff out ahumphand press my head against the back of the old truck’s stiff upholstery. Sun flickers above my closed eyelids as we pass between pines lining the road. Fiddling with my rubber bands, my heart pounds beneath my rib cage, creating an ache that won’t subside.

“Why do you wear those?” Liam asks.

My eyes pop open and I immediately cover my wrist. I roll my head along the headrest in his direction to briefly meet his glare before he turns back to the road. With his left hand, he grips the wheel while his right lies flat on his bulging thigh. His fingers twitch as if they notice I’m staring.

“Never know when I’ll need them,” I whisper.

Even though he doesn’t look back at me, he drags the lower corner of his bottom lip between his teeth. Pretty sure he’s sussed out my lie.

He mumbles a snarl and it’s the last sound made between us for the rest of the ride until we reach the compound.

While the towering gate was intimidating before, what’s even more disconcerting are the newly stationed guards with guns slung over their shoulders. These men don’t have uniforms or tactical gear. They’re in blue jeans and black leather coats like most of Darrin’s guys. The weapons look abnormal with their attire, and I swallow as Liam approaches.

“I-is this normal?” I ask.

“No.”

It’s all Liam says as he rolls to a stop before the glinting keypad and card reader. Liam lifts from his seat, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a black card, and he waves it in front of the small square box. As the gates open, he slowly creeps through, leaving his window rolled down.

One of the guards lifts his hand. “Hey, Liam.”

“Hey, Collin. New toys?” Liam’s voice booms, loud and different than he’s been all day. There’s a command there butalso a sliver of seething disgust. Either way, it stills me and any solace I found with him today on our trip to town is stripped away.

I inch toward my door, the slightest of movements, but the slink over snags Liam’s attention and he breaks from his conversation to whip his head in my direction, noting the added distance.

He smirks.

“Darrin returned, and our shipment from New York arrived. Meeting tonight after the marking.” The man—Collin—grins at me, yellow teeth promising pain and depravity. I divert my eyes. “Blitz says he can’t wait to get his hands on Adam’s chick.”

I cringe and roll my eyes. Everyone assumes Adam and I were a thing and we?—

“She isn’t his anymore.” Liam’s voice is thick like syrup, but instead of sweet, it reeks of bitterness. He rolls up the window as Collin’s face pales, realizing his misstep with Liam, who I’m assuming has some authority over him.

We weave through the compound, and I note the several men entering the clubhouse and a few scattered out on their cabin porches. Most of the cabins have motorcycles parked in front of them, but a few have older cars like the one I saw on the Trace that evening.

Liam’s cabin sits farther back, in a more secluded area, and I’m already grateful to be kept more out of sight. Hopefully, that also means out of mind.

We park, and the truck door creaks as I open it. While I slide out, my asleep ass tingles, and I stretch my arms above my head, releasing the stiffness from the ride. The sun glides low behind the trees and the smell of campfire smoke pops any bubble of happiness I had to be out of the truck.

Liam helps me carry the bags into his cabin, and I toss mine onto the floor, surveying the cramped space. With a little timebefore tonight, the first thing I know I need is a shower. I’ve been stuck in Liam’s oversized, baggy clothes all day, and they’re stifling. A good scrub and detangler are long overdue.

I rummage through my things, grabbing my bathroom essentials and the small plastic pouch I keep close. After a quick look, I pick out a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a tank top. I might regret it later if the chill sets in, but right now, I’m burning up.

Liam plops on the couch and opens up his computer, but he ignores it, watching me dig in each of the bags, looking for the bras and underwear I desperately need.

With an “Aa!” I spin on my bare heels and take him in sitting there.

He’s leaned back, the silver laptop balanced on his right leg, while his left hand absentmindedly spins the ring on his pointer finger. His gaze lingers on me, steady and unreadable.

“I need a shower. If that’s okay.” I’m half asking, half not. He’d have to pry my body from the shower at this point because the next thing I’m doing is cleaning myself.

He doesn’t say anything. Only gestures to the bathroom and begins typing. Unable to move, my mind shifts to the sleeping situation, and I wonder if I’ll be sleeping where his ass is currently planted. I shake my head.

Make it through tonight.

I dart into the bathroom and spend way too long relishing the warm water. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. After putting on some makeup to feel somewhat put together, I’ve spent well over an hour in here.

When I’m dressed, my hair damp with water, I open the medicine cabinet. Nail clippers, hydrogen peroxide, shaving cream—I pore over the items while moving the toothpaste off the top shelf to make room for my stuff. There isn’t much to givehim away, but I notice a small hole in the back of the cabinet. Is that?—

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