His jaw tightens, but his voice stays soft like he’s scared I’ll bolt. “Why are you here?”
I almost lie. Habit. Survival. Shame. But the words fall out before I can stop them. “I needed food.”
Kade nods once. He takes the tin and noodles gently from my hands and places them into a paper bag. Slow movements, no sudden shifts, like I’m a stray dog he doesn’t want to frighten. He passes the bag to me, but he doesn’t let go.
“Are you safe, Remi?”
My lip trembles. I shake my head, because it’s obvious I’m not. And Kade . . . he gets me. He doesn’t judge, and right now, the urge to see a friendly face is overwhelming. Maybe that’s why I’m here. Deep down, I needed a friend.
His jaw clenches tighter before he releases the bag. “Did he do that?” And then his finger carefully slips under my chin, lifting my face to his. “Shit, Remi,” he murmurs, wincing as he takes in my bruises.
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
“We both know that’s not true. I can help you.”
I close my eyes briefly, a lone tear slipping out. I want to say yes, to grab him with both hands and beg him for help. But Colin will never let me go, especially now he’s cleared both my debts. One to the club, and my mother’s. I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to his offer. This is my life now.
I hold the bag against my chest and force a weak smile. His hand drops to his side, like he already knows what I’m about to say. Before I can open my mouth, he nudges a young girl beside him. “Will you be okay if I just step away a minute?” She nods, smiling as he grabs his kutte and steps around the counter. “Let’s get a coffee,” he says to me. “Just a quick one." I hesitate, and he sighs. “Please, Remi.”
I take a seat away from the hustle of the food pantry, and Kade grabs two Styrofoam cups with coffee and joins me. I wrap my hands around my cup, absorbing the heat.
“How can I help?”
It’s such a huge question that I don’t immediately answer. Then I offer smile. Small. Sad. “You can’t keep saving me,” I say, my tone light.
“It’s what I do,” he says, winking. “But seriously, what can I do?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I just—”
“Fell into a door?”
I feel my shoulders slump. It’s the excuse my mum would tell the neighbours, and I hated that lie most of all.
“No,” I reply honestly. “I took a kicking from a grown arse man who makes me sick to my stomach, and I laid on the floor while he kicked me, punched me, spat at me. And I didn’t answer back. I took it.” The words leave a bitter taste on my tongue and tears fill my eyes. “And I’m angry,” I add, clenching my fists around the cup, “because it’s what she used to do, and I would scream at her to get up, to leave, to stop being a fucking doormat.” I yell the last words. I take a shaky breath, glancing round. No onehas noticed . . . or they just don’t care. “I never understood why she didn’t leave, until now. And I know it’s different because she stayed for love, but it still results in the same thing. I’m weak. Just like her.”
He reaches over the table and takes my hand. “You’re not weak, Remi. She stayed for love. You’re staying for survival . . . and you’re scared.”
I snatch my hand back. “I’m not scared,” I snap.
“It’s okay,” he reassures me. “You can be scared. It doesn’t make you weak. You’re doing what you need to, to survive. But I can help you.”
“You can’t. I got myself into this mess.”
“You’re drowning, and going back to where it all began isn’t going to help.”
“I don’t have anywhere else,” I choke.
“If I told Shadow—”
I stand abruptly, cutting him off. “No.” I grab the paper bag.
“Okay,” he says quickly. “No Shadow. I got it.”
I give a slight nod and lower into my seat. The ache in my chest feels like it’s splitting open. “Is he . . . is Shadow okay?”
“I haven’t seen him,” he says. “He’s keeping his head down. Riding a lot.” He waits a minute before adding, “I know you think he hates you. He doesn’t.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and fiddle with my cup. “It doesn’t matter now. I broke his trust. I deserve what’s happening. He’s better off without me. I told him that from the start.”
