Page 13 of All's Fair in Love & Wrath

Reluctantly, I walk back into the cramped kitchen, grease and burnt coffee clinging to the air. There’s no reprieve from the scent. I have a few hours left of my shift, and if I could just get through one more day, it’s just one more day I survived. Because that’s all I’m doing. Running. Hiding. Surviving. Nothing about my life is living. There’s definitely no thriving.

With no one else in the diner, I busy myself by getting to work on the dishes. I stand there, my thoughts warring with me, trying to decide the best course of action, scrubbing the same coffee pot for so long the hot water turned cold around my fingers at some point. I shut off the faucet, bracing my palms against the sink, breathing through the fear pulsing behind my ribs.

I can still feel the bruises when I think about it, can still feel the ache deep inside my body, but the physical scars that everyone sees—the deep grooves, the marred skin—I hate those the most. They’re ugly.I’mugly. Mutilated. Destroyed. Damaged. A walking reminder of what he did to me. How Cain violated me. How he made sure no one would ever want to touch me again. Not that I want them to. Touch is . . .awful.

The years that Cain was away in jail were filled with physical healing and so much therapy for the emotional and mental trauma that I didn’t have time for much else. My dad and Saint lost their minds, and the impossible happened. Their protectiveness over me, it got worse, the reins they had on me shortened. I don’t know if I would have survived it all if it weren’t for my mom. She never looked at me like I was damaged, never made me feel like I was different. Just apologized for bringing a baby girl into a world where men think they can do whatever the hell they want to us.

But in the end, Cain took her from me too.

Now all I have left is Maddox, Gage, and Lincoln. And if I’m honest, even if I haven’t said it out loud, the three of them look at me with pity, too, like I’m cracked glass and they’re just taking turns holding it, trying to make sure it doesn’t shatter completely. The pity makes me want to crawl out of my skin, makes me relive the trauma over and over again. I don’t want to be what happened to me. I don’t want it to define me. But with the constant threat of Cain lingering, my relentless fear and anxiety, I guess it’s too late for that.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear Tommy saying my name until he’s right next to me.

“Sienna?” I flinch, jumping away from him. Tommy frowns, putting his hands outward, showing me it’s just him, and he means no harm. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah,” I lie way too easily. “I’m just tired. Not sleeping well.” Or ever. He gives me a look people give a beloved animal right before they’re forced to euthanize it. Then he nods, turning and heading back to the grill. I wait for his footsteps to fade before I reach into my apron pocket and pull out the number Axel gave me, my thumb tracing over his handwriting. I want to help him, and maybe he can help us, too. Cain’s destruction has to have an expiration date, right?

One text. That’s all I have to do. Send Maddox one text with the information and maybe everything can turn up. Hope is such a fickle bitch. I thought it had been doused a long time ago, but then in walked a biker and that tiny little ember inside me caught.

I can still see him sitting in that booth like he owned the damn place without even trying to. His shoulders stretched beneath his plain black T-shirt, wearing his leather cut like he was always meant to. He has a calming confidence about him that isn’t cocky, but he absolutely knows how good-looking he is. His face was cleanly shaven, his dark hair smoothedback from the wind. Every inch of skin that I could see except for his face was covered in dark black ink, his nose pierced with a thin hoop. He looked every bit the part. Dangerous, but in the way that storms are, quiet and still, until they snap everything around them into pieces. He may have been kind, but he’s still a biker. Which means he has a ruthless streak. A deadly one.

The moment he saw my scars, his whole demeanor changed, though. Not angry exactly, but somehow so much worse. But I didn’t feel scared of him, not for a single second. Of all the men in my life who’ve seen them, their reactions have either been misplaced guilt for feeling like they failed me, pity, or the worst, a protectiveness that has kept me locked up in a cage since it happened.

Axel’s anger was controlled, like he’s completely aware of the destruction he could bring from his wrath if he wanted to, and it was all toward the man who hurt me, even if I didn’t tell him what happened or who did it. He recognized it all on his own.

I’m grateful he didn’t ask what happened. No one’s asked in a very long time, mostly because everyone in Autumn Bay already knows. Cain didn’t leave me with bruises I could lie about to ease the conversation, like women before me have done for generations. I was left with disfigurement that can’t be hidden or explained. The scars are alarming, and I imagine people don’t ask what happened to me because they don’t want the truth. Not really. I run my fingers over the marred flesh, my eyes falling closed, a tear escaping and running down my cheek. I can still feel the heat radiating from the area like it only happened yesterday.

I quickly bat the tears away. What the hell is wrong with me? No one is coming to save me. The damage has been done. Nothing can change it now. I’m broken. Cain got what hewanted that night: to make sure no one after him would want me. Mission accomplished.

Even if the gorgeous, sweet man in a leather cut from a different club seems sincere, he was only talking to me because I have information he needs. That was it. I’m sure I confused his concern with what was actually there . . . pity. And he used it to his advantage. The desperate girl, too broken to see when she’s being used.

Yep. Sounds just like me.

Maddox picksme up from work at seven, waiting in his blacked-out car just like he always is. I slip into the passenger seat, putting on my seatbelt, and looking out the window at the blue sky, willing the sun to set so the air cools a bit.

“How was your day, Enna?”

“Fine.”

Maddox strums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Just fine?” he presses.

“Yeah.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary happen?” he asks, but I don’t give him the reaction he’s wanting. Like I’ve been caught red-handed. “I’ve got eyes everywhere, Enna. I know there were bikers skirting the edge of town today. Did they come in to the diner?” So, he doesn’t have eyeseverywhere,apparently.

“Yeah, they did. Only three of them.”

“What the fuck, Sienna? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because it was just some bikers, Mad, calm down. I’m fine.”

“But what if you weren’t? What if they’re working for him? What if he knows where you are now?”

“They aren’t. He won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I overheard them talking. They’re looking for someone named Garrett? Cain sent men into their club and killed one of their men. I guess it was Cain’s brother. They want revenge.”