Page 91 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

And then there are hands on me.

Warm, strong hands on my shoulders. Pulling my hands away from my face.

“River. River, listen to me.”

I try to follow that voice, but I can’t even make out which one of the guys it is. I close my eyes tightly and shake my head. It’s a deep voice, but that could be any of them.

“You’re okay,” someone else says, and I think that’s… Ash? Maybe? “We’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Try to breathe for us, alright? Just one good, deep breath, River.”

That’s definitely Priest.

I try, but it’s not a good or deep breath, and I nearly choke halfway through it.

“Again,” he says. “Come on. Breathe with me.”

He takes my hand and puts it on his chest, letting me feel it expand when he takes a deep breath himself.

I try again, mimicking what he does, and finally, I feel like I’m getting enough air. Like I’m not just hyperventilating. I do it again, and some of the fog in my head clears a little.

“Good girl.”

That’s Gage. His voice is soft but sure.

I manage to open my eyes and look up at him, and his features swim into view. He’s still a little blurry, but I can see him, see the look of concern on his face as he looks me over.

Priest steps aside, allowing Gage to take his place, and the tall, broad-shouldered man swipes his thumbs across my cheeks just like he did when we were in my room that time. When he reminded me that I’m a warrior and not ruined.

I want to lean into him, to find some comfort in the way he touches me, the way they all cluster around as if they’re trying to hold me together… but the voice in my head that’s always warned me against this is loud.

It’s a struggle between the way I’ve always been, all the things that have kept me safe and in one piece up until now, and the growing warmth in my chest for these men. The part of me that finds them comforting and safe and familiar wants to go with it, but the part of me that believes people are always selfish and shitty really doesn’t.

That battle is just as overwhelming as everything else, and I jerk away from Gage and from the rest of them too, trying to keep my distance. Physicallyandemotionally.

I’m so used to keeping people at arm’s length. It’s second nature for me at this point. I’ve never even stopped to think about it. I’ve always been willing to lie, steal, or do whatever it takes to make sure I never end up in a position of being helpless again.

But along the way with these men, something changed. Something shifted.

Unfamiliar emotions rise up inside me, and I glare up at Gage, breathing hard.

“Why are you doing this?” I demand. My voice comes out sharp, cracking through the night air like a whip. It’s accusatory and harsh, and Gage lifts an eyebrow at me like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I ball my hands up into fists at my side and stare him down. “Why the fuck would you help me like this?” I glance around at the others, including them in the question because they’re all complicit. “Why are you doing any of this?”

Gage’s face hardens. He gives me a look, his green eyes narrowed and brimming with the beginnings of anger. “You really don’t know the answer to that? Are you serious, River? Do you not understand what this is?”

“No!” I yell back. “I don’t. This isn’t what any of this was supposed to be! This was supposed to be a business arrangement. We were supposed to benothingto each other.”

His face goes even harder at those last words, and I realize it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him look at me this way. Other people, sure. But something really has shifted between us, clearly, and that’s terrifying.

Gage strides forward and grips my chin in a rough hold, jerking my head up so I’m looking right at him.

“Am I nothing to you?” he asks in a hard voice. “Because you’re not nothing to me.”

My heart is racing a mile a minute. He stares down at me heavily, waiting for an answer, and when I don’t give it, he tightens his grip, not letting me look away or hide from this for a second.

“Am I nothing to you?” he repeats.

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