Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Abriana would never have to look at her. Ava would never have to cry out in fear. The few times she’d been at the club at night, she knew the other woman still got nightmares. So did Raven. In her dreams, she wasn’t there in time to save Ava. Creed knocked her down always, and she couldn’t save her.
The same dream on constant repeat. No matter what she did.
She hated it. There was no way to run or escape.
Raven returned to the mirror as someone knocked on the door.
“Raven, dinner’s ready, and by dinner, I ordered takeout. I don’t think your stomach can handle another meal cooked by me.” Abriana’s voice traveled through the wooden door. What the hell was she doing? “Raven? Are you okay?” There was an edge to her voice. “Raven?”
“I’ll be right out. I was just splashing water onto my face and drying it.” The lie slipped out, and that added to her guilt, but Abrianna didn’t need to know what she’d been about to do.
Glancing down at her revolver, she quickly placed it back on the counter and gripped the edge.
Another selfish act.
Abriana would have been the one to find you.
How fucking selfish can you get?
“No problem. I’ve also ordered some hot chocolate. Ugly Beast is on the way with it,” Abriana said.
“Sounds lovely,” Raven said and cringed. Did she sound like she was hiding something?
She heard Abriana walking away, and Raven dropped down, pressing her head against the edge of the counter as she took several deep breaths in an attempt to control her racing heart. She’d never be Abriana or Ava’s problem. No making them clean up her mess. Ava had said they were friends, but Raven was going to make sure the other woman never had to worry about seeing her again.
She’d give the other woman the peace and quiet she required until the time came when her life would matter no more.
Chapter One
“Since your judgment call got my woman hurt. Think hard, Raven. If you hadn’t sent her off with a prospect that wasn’t even one of ours, my wife wouldn’t have lost our first child. She wouldn’t have had a concussion, and she wouldn’t wake up screaming some nights, terrified.”
“One mistake that anyone could have made.”
“Yeah, but it was you who made it. No one else.”
“And you still bought a house near a town with one? Are you fucking stupid?”
“Then why are you still here? You’re a club brother as far as I’m concerned, and that means I can beat the shit out of your ass.”
“You’ll do what you can, won’t you? To save her. Be good to him. Do whatever he wants…”
The last memory made Raven jolt as she came out of her trip to memory lane. That wasn’t happening. She refused to think that far back. Long ago, she’d closed the doors on those particular memories.
Tears filled her eyes, and she quickly closed them, willing them to stop. Gritting her teeth, she counted to ten and attempted to get herself back under control. Her heart pounded, and her breath was difficult to gain power over.
It’s fine.
Stop it.
It’s fine.
You’re here now.
With the Hell’s Bastards.
No one can hurt you.
Time ticked on by. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Seconds turned to minutes, and when she finally could breathe without the weight of the world crushing her chest, she opened her eyes. Once again, she was back to who she was.
No one knew of the panic attacks. Whenever she felt one occurring, she always had enough time to get the hell away from people.
Tonight, she was all alone in her room at the clubhouse. No different from any other night.
Raven glanced around the room that had been hers for so many years. There were not many personal items. She loved to shop, but most of the time, she often gave away what she bought, apart from the clothes. She loved clothes and shoes, not that she wore half of the stuff in her wardrobe. There were also the dresses that Abriana had bought for her while she’d been staying with her to heal.
There was no way in hell some of the guys would ever see her in heels and a dress. It wasn’t going to happen.
Most of the time, she wore boots. Jeans or pants, a shirt or a sweater, with her leather cut. The leather cut she had earned was the only thing she owned that she cherished. Glancing at the floor in front of her, where she’d laid it out, Raven had to wonder if there was a ticking clock on that as well.
Again, her heart started to pound, but she forced it to stop. This time, she put the revolver she’d been holding on the floor, placing her hand on her chest. She pressed hard, attempting to ground herself.
Stop it.
Stop it.
Ignore it.