As I carry her down the stairs, past the filth and the empty bottles and the bloodied monster Kane still has pinned to the ground, I meet Nigel’s eyes one last time.
“You’ll never get near her again,” I promise, voice low and shaking with fury. “Even if the law fails—I won’t.”
He sneers, blood on his teeth, but I don’t flinch. I turn away and walk out with my girl in my arms, her head on my chest like she belongs there.
Because she does.
She’s safe now. But the war’s only just begun.
16
FAITH
The scream catches in my throat.
Ropes bite into my wrists. A cold body presses against my skin. The walls are too close, the air thick and sour. I’m caged. Powerless. Trapped in a memory that won’t let go.
Hands. His voice. The belt. I twist and thrash, heart pounding, lungs burning.
“Faith.” Hayden’s voice breaks through the fog.
My eyes fly open. The room’s dark but familiar—his hoodie wrapped around me, the scent of leather and motor oil grounding me in the now. My chest rises and falls like I’ve run a mile, a sheen of sweat coating my skin.
His thumb caresses my cheek. “Another nightmare?”
I nod. “It’s always the same like I’m trapped.”
“Get up, Sunshine. Let’s go out.”
I blink at him, then glance at the window. It’s dark. “It’s the middle of the night?”
He shrugs like that matters. “And?”
My lips twitch despite myself. “Where are we going?”
“For a ride.”
A flutter stirs in my chest. I always feel free on the road with him. I throw the covers back. “Two minutes.” I disappear into the bathroom, heart beating faster than it has in days. When I look in the mirror, there’s a glimmer of the girl I used to be—before everything shattered.
Each new day, with Nigel behind bars awaiting trial for sexual assault, Hayden helps me piece a little more of myself back together.
The memories still come in flashes—Nigel’s hands where they shouldn’t have been, the sound of his belt, the shame I can’t scrub off.
They say he didn’t rape me. That I fought him off. That Hayden got there just in time.
But he still touched me. Still stripped me down while I was unconscious… that part haunts me most of all.
When I come back out, I’m wearing Hayden’s hoodie. It’s oversized on me, drowning me in comfort, like I’m wrapped in a permanent hug, drenched in his scent of leather and oil.
He’s waiting at the door, helmet in hand, like some kind of guardian angel with a past just as fucked up as mine. His gaze flickers down my chunky thighs in my leggings, and my cheeks heat, but I don’t shy away from the way he looks at me. I’m still me. And he still wants me.
He tosses me the spare helmet. “Let’s ride, Sunshine.”
The cold air bites as we hit the road, but I don’t care. I hold on tight, cheek pressed against his solid back, safe behind an impenetrable wall of muscle and leather. I breathe him in, the scent of leather and safety. Mine.
We don’t speak. There’s no need. Just the engine’s purr, the wind tearing at my hair, the quiet comfort of being close to him again, and the feeling of freedom that comes with being on the road.
He takes the long way around the lake; the moon shimmering off the water like it’s happy to see us. When the engine cuts, it’s so quiet I can hear my heartbeat.
