It's been a couple of days since I showed up at the clubhouse covered in blood.
Which also means it’s been a couple of days since Leviathan killed Cain.
Days since I woke up and felt something other than complete and utter fear.
I'm still not sure who I am without the fear.
For three years, it was the constant backdrop of my existence.
Every decision, every movement, every breath was filtered through the question:Will this make him angry?
I learned to anticipate his moods, to read the tension in his shoulders, to know when to speak and when to stay silent.
Fear was my compass. My guide. My reason for existing.
Now the fear is gone, and I'm lost.
I spend most of my time in the spare room they've given me—reading, sleeping, staring at the ceiling.
Tawny and Paige check on me regularly, bringing food and company and easy conversation that doesn't require anything from me.
Leviathan comes by when he can, which isn't as often as I'd like.
He's busy—dealing with the fallout from Cain's death, managing the threat from Chief Varro, running a club that seems to demand his attention every waking moment.
I understand. I don't resent it, but I miss him when he's gone.
That's a strange feeling too.
Missing someone. Wanting someone.
For so long, the only person in my life was Cain, and I never missed him.
I dreaded his return, counted the minutes until he'd leave again, fantasized about a life where he simply... disappeared.
Now he has. And I'm still here, trying to figure out what comes next.
The next morning, Tawny shows up at my door with a mission.
"Get dressed," she announces, pushing past me into the room. "We're going downstairs."
"Iamdressed."
"You're wearing pajamas. That doesn't count." She throws open the small closet where Paige hung some borrowed clothes—jeans, t-shirts, a few flannels that smell like cigarettes and leather. "Put on real clothes. You've been hiding in this room long enough."
"I'm not hiding. I'm just..."
"Hiding." Tawny turns to face me, hands on her hips. "Look, I get it. The world feels scary right now. Everything's new and overwhelming and you don't know which way is up. But you can't spend the rest of your life in this room."
"It's only been four days."
"Four days is long enough, don’t you think?" Her voice softens, just a little. "You're safe here, Ripley. The club's got yourback. Leviathan's got your back. But you've got to start living again sometime. Might as well be today."
I want to argue.
Want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist.
But Tawny's right—I can't hide forever.
