“Mornin’, suga’.” I jumped at the thick, throaty voice and looked at the door to see a tall, husky man with his arms folded and a cigar in his mouth. His blond hair was pulled into a man bun, and his facial scruff was groomed perfectly. His muscles constricted against his tight gray tee as he smirked at me. “You’re safe, darlin’.”
I looked at him, confused. “Where am I?”
“Reapers Clubhouse,” he said. “Do you remember anything?”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember what happened. I remembered getting off at Roadhouse and walking home, and then it became hazy. “I…” I paused. Slowly, everything became clear. “Did they…?”
“No. We heard you scream. They can’t hurtcha anymore.”
My eyes filled with tears of relief, and those tears slowly became sobs, which didn’t help the pain in my body. Everything that happened to me in the last few weeks finally hit me like a ton of bricks, dragging me down the deepest part of the ocean. I wanted to move my arm, but the cuff prevented it from happening. Out of frustration, I shook my arm aggressively and let out an annoyed groan.
“Calm down, darlin’. We don’t need ya hurtin’ yourself.”
“Please,” I snapped. “If you actually cared, I wouldn’t be handcuffed. You’d let me leave.”
He pulled up a chair and sat down next to my bed as he put out his cigar with spit and his fingers. “If we didn’t care, you’d be bleeding out or dead on the sidewalk. Instead, our doc stitched ya up and ensured you didn’t die from that infection. Try again, darlin’.”
I winced, moving my free hand slightly to touch my belly. “I’m sorry,” I admitted. “I…my life took a complete detour, and I’m not used to it yet.”
“What brought ya to Westhaven?”
I shrugged. “It was the furthest place away from New York.”
“Traded that big city life for a gloomy existence?”
I smiled. “It matched my mood.”
“So tell me, kid, why were you walkin’ around with busted stitches and an infection for so long?”
I sighed, shrugging my shoulders and looking away from the man. “I thought I could handle it. I kept it clean and bandaged.The pain was unbearable, but I needed to work. I felt pretty bad the last few days, but I thought it was from the stress.”
“Well, ya failed, kid. Doc had to fix ya up. Said he didn’t know how ya were able to move or walk. You’ve been asleep for four days while ya body fought off infection. Stress didn’t help, but working while recovering wasn’t the best idea.”
I grumbled and let out a long sigh. “Guess Dad was right. I really am a fuck up.”
“Aye now, don’t talk like that, kid.”
“It’s true. I’m in this situation because I’m fucking stupid.”
“Things happen. Were ya shot or stabbed?”
“What are we gonna do, compare war stories and measure scars?”
He chortled, leaning back into the chair. “I like you, kid, but no. We ain’t seen you ‘round here before and your wound is questionable. We don’t need trouble in this town.”
I sighed. There was something about him that felt safe. Or maybe I was just fucking crazy. “I got stabbed.”
“Hurts like a bitch; being shot hurts worse.”
“Imagine getting raped beforehand.” My entire body froze, and I wanted to sink further into the bed. “Ignore me. I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this.”
Something changed in his eyes, and he looked at me with a hint of concern and darkness swimming in his blue gaze. “That fucker dead?”
Was it because this man saved my life or was it the paternal aura he gave off that made him feel safe? Was I that desperate for a father’s love I’d confess my trauma to a stranger? I sighed, nodding as I looked at him. “The man who raped me died after he stabbed me. My dad killed him, but—” I stopped.
“No one gonna hurt you, darlin’. If you wanna talk, go ahead and get it off your chest. I won’t judge.” I pulled myself uppainfully into a sitting position and looked at my handcuffed wrist before looking back at him. “Precautions,” he explained.
“Be lucky I was drugged instead of tied up, or I’d be panicking,” I joked, realizing it didn’t land based off of the look on his face. “It’s fine. I was sold to a gang leader and he raped me.”
