Page 14 of Massacre
“She awake?” a familiar voice asked, and I sighed.
“Almost,” came another, softer, familiar. “Give her a minute.”
I swallowed hard and forced my eyes open. A broad shadow filled the doorframe. At the edge of my vision, a hand hovered—ready to help or restrain, I couldn’t tell.
“Amber,” the softer voice insisted, gentle now. “It’s Haizley. You’re safe. You’re with me and Dante.”
Safe. The word swirled in my chest alongside the fear, hope, and doubt. I licked my dry lips. “What—what happened?” My voice was a cracked whisper.
A silence settled.
“We don’t know, sweetie,” Haizley carefully replied. “All we know for sure is someone found you running out of a field. They brought you here. You’re hurt pretty badly.”
I nodded, every motion slow and careful, and let my eyes drift to the window where the late moonlight crawled across the floorboards. The arguing voices had faded, replaced by the distant rumble of an engine. Outside, a bike roared to life—someone was leaving.
My world felt precarious, almost as if it teetered along a knife’s edge.
“Amber, do you remember what happened?”
I looked away, staring out the window as my eyes welled with tears. It was my fault, really. I shouldn’t have run off like I did. I should have gone to King, to Haizley, or to my brother. Dante would have understood. Instead, I let my hurt and pain override everything and I ran. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get away from everyone and all the lies.
“Sis, who did this to you?”
Dante’s voice was gentle, but it only highlighted the urgency in his words. “Amber, please. There are a lot of people outside that door ready to go to war. They want to know who’s responsible.”
I bit my lip, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue. I knew he was right, but my shame and guilt were suffocating. How could I tell them I had put myself in that situation again? That I had been so stupid as to think I could outrun my past?
Haizley’s hand squeezed mine, pulling me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. “You’re not alone, Amber. We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere. Tell us what happened, and we’ll figure this out together.”
I took a shuddering breath, my tears finally spilling over. “I went to a bar in the next town over,” I began, my voice shaking. “I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong. So very wrong.”
The room was quiet as they let my words sink in.
My memories came flooding back as I spoke, each one a punch to my gut. I remembered the bar, the dim lights, and the familiar burn of liquid courage as I tried to drown out the voices in my head. I had thought I could face my demons alone, but instead, I invited them in. “I met someone,” I continued, my voice steady despite the shame that threatened to overwhelm me. “He was nice at first. I liked his accent. It was different. He wasn’t from around these parts, but then...” I trailed off, the image of his face twisted in anger fresh in my mind.
Haizley’s hand tightened around mine. Her thumb rubbed small circles on my palm. “It’s okay, Amber. Take your time, honey. You’re safe now.”
Her words were a lifeline, anchoring me to the present and away from my swirling guilt. Dante’s presence was comforting, a silent promise of protection.
I took a steadying breath, ready to face my fears head-on. “I don’t remember his name. We talked for a while, andI thought maybe—” I paused, the weight of my mistake heavy on my shoulders. “I thought maybe I could trust him. But then he started asking questions about my past, my family, and if I had ever met anyone in the Golden Skulls. That’s when I knew something was wrong.”
The room fell silent as they let my words hang in the air, their implication settling deep. I knew they would understand the danger I had put myself in, but the fear of their judgment still lingered. Haizley’s hand never left mine, her touch a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. “I tried to leave,” I continued, my voice steady despite the tremors that racked my body. “But he followed me, and then... then everything went black.”
“You said he had an accent,” Haizley gently probed. “Like a southern accent, New England?”
I shook my head. “No. Definitely foreign. I’m just not sure where.”
“You said he was asking about our past. What did he want to know?” Dante asked curiously.
Looking up at my brother, I whispered, “He wanted to know where I was born. Who raised me? Why the Silver Shadows had a Golden Skull member here?” The second I gave my answer, Dante stiffened. I knew he would. Sypher wasn’t just some biker who belonged to some club. He was the keeper of secrets in the biker world and that alone would make him the ultimate prize.
A slow, weighted silence pressed in from every corner of the room, thick with unspoken questions and the uneasy knowledge that something monumental had shifted. For a moment, no one dared breathe, as if even the air was holding its secrets close.
Dante’s jaw clenched. His knuckles white as he looked at me. Haizley’s gaze flickered over my face, searching for answers or maybe reassurance that I hadn’t given up too much. I could feel the shape of their worry, how it curled tightly around me, invisible but inescapable.
“He knew more than he should, Dante,” I admitted quietly, my eyes fixed on the worn, threadbare blanket on my bed. “He kept pressing, like he was trying to trip me up, slip something out. I-I think he’s been watching me for a while. Maybe even before I met him.”
A chill prickled up my spine. I remembered flashes: a shadow lingering outside the gates of the clubhouse, the feeling of eyes on my back as I crossed the parking lot from Trudy’s, the echo of unfamiliar footsteps falling into rhythm with my own as I did a little grocery shopping in town. I shivered despite myself.
