“You need some sleep, sweetheart.”
She goes quiet then, her breathing steady and even. I reach down with one hand and yank back the covers, careful not to drop the passed-out woman in my arms. I set her on the bed, and she smiles, so I know she can’t be too fucked up—at least, I hope not. I tuck her under the covers and grab one pillow from beside her so I won’t have to use the armrest on my couch all night.
I grab a bottle of water from a mini fridge in the corner and set it on the bedside table with a small trash can, just in case.
I consider heading back out to the party. The wind is loud as fuck and the music is muted, but I can tell from the cheers and the talking that my brothers plan to ride out this storm with as much booze and sex as they can.
I look at the woman passed out under my covers. This ain’t the same kind of party, but I pull off my vest and T-shirt, throw the pillow onto my couch, and flip off the lights, the taste of whiskey on my lips and the scent of a woman named Violet making the room swim.
4
Violet
I can hardly cobble together a coherent thought. My head is pounding. My mouth is dry. And…worst of all, I am in an unfamiliar bed.
Oh my God. What have I done?
It all comes back to me in a rush. I squint my eyes open and peer around the dark room. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. I tell myself it’s just a dream. A nightmare, really. I fell asleep in my new condo, and any minute, I’ll wake up and be back where I am supposed to be right now—in my new life. A fresh start. Freedom from everything I had to leave behind.
But the tangled sheets and the darkness of an unfamiliar room have me questioning whether this is a new beginning or the worst decision I’ve ever made.
I drank whiskey shots. Straight from the bottle. With a man I hardly know. I’m not sure who this Violet James is. I grimace as the taste of the whiskey shots I did threatens to come right back up with a vengeance. I was never one to hold my drink, and holy crap, did I drink last night. And it was fun.
But right now, I’m not sure if I’m excited or a little scared.
Then a gust of wind blowing debris against the outside of the building pounds its way past my ears, and the fear picks right back up. The storm. The power failure. The flooding in the parking lot and the fact that there is literally no place else for me to go right now. I try to count my lucky stars that I am safe and dry as the sound echoes from one side of my very sensitive head to the other.
I press my fingertips to my temples and sit up, slowly accepting that this is all very, very real. I got wasted in a motorcycle compound with a man named Shadow.
I’m in his bed, wrapped in sheets that smell surprisingly clean and feel deliciously soft under my bare toes. I’m still dressed in the yellow sundress I wore yesterday—so it’s not all bad news. My shoes are off, but somehow, I got into bed without actually getting ready for bed. What a confusing man. Hard and soft, sweet and complex. I roll over quietly, searching through the dark for any sign that he’s in here with me.
Shadow’s room is unbelievably dark, but I’m not sure if it’s the thick curtains over the windows or the storm shutters he told me about. I had half a hope that the storm would be over today, but by the looks of it, what Shadow said last night is right. The wind and rain smashing against the building don’t sound like a storm that’s just passing by. This hurricane, tropical storm, whatever hellfire Mother Nature has decided to unleash on us, is nowhere close to done.
I peek around the room and see a pillow and blanket rumpled on the couch, but the bathroom door is open, and there’s no sign of Shadow anywhere. I’m not sure how I feel about that. He slept on his couch and gave up his bed to me. I’m still not completely sure how I got into his bed. All the questions we asked in our game last night come rushing back. I try to remember it all. What I told him, what he shared.
But first…I need to use the bathroom. I can never process any rational thoughts when I have to pee this bad. And I’ve got to take a toothbrush to my mouth, like, immediately.
I drag my sorry self out of his very comfortable bed and grab my overnight bag. I put that toothbrush to work and run my brush through my hair. I consider changing my clothes, but as I lean over the sink, I realize that I’m still a little drunk. Every movement feels slow and fuzzy. As tempting as a hot shower is, I might need to get a cup of coffee or some food in me. Something to soak up the alcohol.
Cursing every shot I took last night, I walk in my bare feet from the bathroom to the bedroom door. The dead bolt is unlocked, so I wonder if that means a lot of the people who were here last night have left? I remember the sticky floors and the broken glass, and I slide on my shoes before gripping the doorknob in an unsteady hand and opening the door.
To my surprise, I hear literally no noise but the sounds of the storm raging on outside. To be honest, it’s kind of soothing—in a thank God I’m in a storm-proofed compound kind of way. I blink against the weak lights that somehow feel like spotlights blaring into my eye sockets and follow the hallway back toward the main room with the bar and kitchen.
As soon as I round the corner, I see him.
Shadow.
He’s perched on a stool at the bar counter with a cup of something that I can smell from here is fresh, hot coffee. He’s wearing a pair of tight dark-blue jeans, and he’s…shirtless. He seems to be staring at the hallway, just waiting for me. Watching me.
I give him a quick smile and start to say good morning, but then I notice all the other people in the room, and I choke the words down. On every piece of furniture and even on the floor, there are bodies. Bikers passed out with their pants unzipped. Women in various states of undress, some completely naked. I see more naked breasts around me than I’ve seen in all the gym locker rooms I’ve been in over my whole life added up. I don’t know how they aren’t all freezing.
For a minute, my mind flashes back to Shadow on the couch. Our question-and-answer game.
Did I touch or kiss him?
I’m sure I didn’t. I couldn’t have. I don’t drink that much, and I definitely don’t drink often. But even when I get a tiny bit tipsy, I’m one of those people who becomes more logical. I’m the person who collects the car keys from everyone else in the party, because even after a few drinks with friends, I won’t let anybody get behind the wheel.
I’m sure, I think, that I didn’t do anything I’d feel embarrassed about today. At least, I hope I didn’t… My stomach rolls over at the thought of what I did, didn’t do, and don’t fully remember. I woke up fully clothed and alone, which is more than I can say for the rest of the people who spent the night here.
