Page 49 of Bound by Vengeance
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to cover the hole I feel there. I need a shield of protection and a way to guard myself.
Two of them, because I feel very exposed, like he’s cutting me open raw, stripping me down to nothing.
My skin prickles with awareness, and a shiver races down my spine. Hesitation creeps in, coating me in a shroud. If only I could disappear under it.
Taking a deep breath, I answer, “Scared about what everyone will think of me. That they’ll look at me differently.” I look down at my hands, not wanting to make eye contact with him. “Relieved that I don’t have to hold it all in anymore. But I’m still pissed at you.”
His smile is wide and one I could get lost in, unable to break away from. Whenever he’s around, the keeping my distance thing lasts a minute before the walls just crumble. I should be pissed at him for that, too; add it to the shit pile.
“Be pissed, beautiful. That’s fine. I’ll take it. But you don’t need to be scared. Who gives a fuck what others think? That has no bearing on you whatsoever. Their thoughts and opinions are theirs, not yours. Whatever they say or how they act is on them, not you. Not only that, I’ll beat the shit out of ’em.”
My lips tip up as his words wrap around me like a warm blanket. A blanket that is covering the bloody wounds deep inside, slowly stopping the flow.
We sit in silence, but it’s comfortable. The anger is still there, but it’s fizzled quite a bit. I’m not sure what to make of that.
A yawn escapes me, and before I can say anything, Ryker has my head on his chest, remote in his hand, and I’m fast asleep.
THE NIGHT ENDED UP CHAOTIC. My mother, father, Angel, GT, and pretty much anyone in the clubhouse they could round up, came to my small apartment. They spilled out the front door and balcony, each of them with pointed stares at me. They already knew, so I was happy I didn’t have to tell the story again.
They were there for moral support, which felt nice. My mother, on the other hand, was pissed.
“Austyn! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this,” my mother says, closing the door to my room for privacy. She’d been waiting to attack and found an opening.
“Mom …”
“Don’t you mom me. I would’ve been there for you. We could’ve talked, and I could’ve helped you. You didn’t have to do this alone.”
I see the instant my mother’s anger turns to sadness as her face drops.
“It’s over with now. Thank you for that. I need it, but it’s over, and there’s no reason now to be upset about it.”
That was the moment she wrapped me in her arms and hugged me so tightly I thought she would break me.
The other kicker was the appearance of Leah, which is still rolling around in my head.
“Austyn,” Bristyl introduces. “This is Leah, Green’s woman.”
Giving a soft wave, I say, “Hi.”
My legs tremble, knowing exactly what this woman has gone through and noting its similarities to my situation.
Leah is beautiful with short dark hair and brown eyes.
“Thought we could go in your room and chat,” Bristyl announces before leading us to my room. I’ve already been in here once with my mother. Maybe this should be the party stop, instead.
Leah fiddles with her hands, worry lining her face. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly.
Bristyl puts her arm around Leah, and she jumps, then she seems to be okay.
“You don’t have to talk about anything,” I reassure her, seeing a small bit of relief cross her features.
I watch as she breathes in and out slowly. It’s an amazing thing to watch, when a woman pulls up courage from down deep.
“It does get better,” she starts, having my full attention. “It’s hard. There’s pain, and the fear will sometimes override you, but you need to ride it out. It’s not easy. It actually sucks, but it’s necessary. It’s been months and months since …”
She shakes her head. “And I still have a hard time talking about it. But each day is better. Keep your chin up and never let the past define who you are. Never let what happened to you take away your happiness in life, because you only get one. One life to make work for you and do the best you can. Don’t let the actions of someone else dictate how that life will be lived.”
She exhales deeply and sits on my bed, looking as if she spent every last bit of energy she had inside her to say those words. I hate that she’s so broken. Is that what I look like?
