Page 76 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

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River

It’smorning when I begin to wake up again. Even before I open my eyes, I can sense the light in the room, and I’ve never been more relieved to wake up in a bed and not chained to a wall.

Priest is still holding me, spooning me from behind. His hold has loosened somewhat through the night, but his body curves against mine, and I can feel the soft huff of his breath against the back of my neck.

Slowly, I blink my eyes open. Then my eyebrows scrunch together. Priest and I fell asleep alone in the bed, but we didn’t stay that way, clearly. Ash is in bed with us now, cuddled up against me so that I’m sandwiched between the two of them.

He smiles even though his eyes are still closed, clearly awake.

“You’re going to hell for sure now,” he murmurs softly. “Since you fucked a priest and all. But maybe next time, I’ll join you.”

That makes me laugh quietly. I smile at Ash as he opens his eyes, but as our gazes meet, the corners of my lips wobble.

Maybe it’s the fact that my mind has finally had time to emerge from the shock of yesterday’s events. Maybe it’s the feeling of being encased between these two men and all the emotions that brings up. Or maybe it’s just because I’m fucking human, and I’ve tried to deny that fact for too damn long.

But lying here in bed with them, it all washes over me—everything that happened. Being abducted by Julian, finding out Hannah is alive and married to him with a kid. Hearing about how she was kept longer than I was and forced into something that’s clearly fucked up and not good for her. And then having to walk out of that house, grateful to be alive but leaving my sister behind once again.

It’s just too fucking much, and I finally give in to the sorrow that’s been eating at me and let myself cry.

Ash holds me while I sob into his chest, pulling me close and stroking his hand through my hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re here. We’ve got you.”

Honestly, I don’t know if that makes it better or worse. I know they’ve got me; I know I’m safe. But Hannah isn’t. And if they hadn’t found me and paid Julian off with what was probably an ungodly amount of money, I’d be dead right now.

Priest shifts behind me, woken up by the sound of my sobs, but he doesn’t say anything. He just presses himself in closer and holds me too, offering his silent support.

I let it all out, crying until I feel like I’m empty and all dried up. I don’t know how long it takes. Every time I think I’m done, I get hit with a new wave of grief, and more tears well up in my eyes and trickle down. There’s just so much. So much built up inside of me. I haven’t let myself cry in a long time. But being kidnapped by Julian unlocked it all, and now it’s taking control of me. It won’t let me up until I let it out, and there’s no holding back.

Neither of the men move until I stop shaking in their arms. They hold me close like they’d do it all day if they had to.

After a while, I drag in a shuddering breath and then another one. And then one more for good measure. Then I draw back enough that they can see I’m okay.

Well. Okay-ish, I guess.

Okay enough that my body isn’t shaking from sobs anymore, so I’ll take it.

It feels strangely good to be held by them like this. It’s reassuring and not panic inducing, the way shows of affection would’ve once been. I don’t feel worse for having been vulnerable around them, for letting them see this side of me.

I feelbetter.

That’s never really happened before, and it’s proof that I’m coming to trust them.

Ash reaches up and tucks my tangled silver hair behind my ear, then kisses me softly on the mouth. It’s warm and tender, like he’s doing it for no other reason than to comfort me. It makes my heart race a little, but not with dread and worry. It’s just because I like kissing him.

He looks down at me as we separate, and I finally remember that I’m still naked in the bed after everything that happened with Priest last night.

“You’re a mess,” Ash teases with a grin, his lips curving up on one side. “All crusty.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Doesn’t seem to be stopping you from getting handsy.”

“Oh, I haven’t even started getting handsy yet,” he shoots back, and proves that by sliding his hands down my back to my ass. He gropes it shamelessly and then yelps right in my ear, pulling his hands back.

“Rude, Priest,” he says, and I look over my shoulder to see Priest lying there with an innocent expression on his face.

“You were in my space,” the blond man counters and then throws back the sheets so he can get out of bed. He’s also still naked, and I watch him shamelessly, taken in like I always am by how good he looks. He’s tall and muscular, his frame lean and chiseled and marked with a few scars just like mine is. Just like the other Kings’ bodies are. We all wear our scars both on the inside and the outside.

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