Page 17 of Devil Within

“Listen, I want you to know that I have a run tonight,” he said, “so I won’t be able to bring you home. But Jake drives a car, and I trust him. Would you be okay for him to drive you back?”

Her first instinct was to say no. Jake seemed like a nice guy, but she didn’t know him. She didn’t trust people she didn’t know. Then she remembered that she didn’t know Jade, either, and for some unknown reason, she hadn’t batted an eyelash jumping behind him on a bike. What did that mean? It left her very confused.

“You trust him?” she asked.

Jade nodded. “I’ve known him for years.”

“He’s never hurt a woman?”

“Not that I’ve ever known,” he said slowly, studying her with an intensity that unnerved her. Like he could read the secrets she tried to bury and ignore. “It’s pretty damn hard hiding something like that from the Sons.”

“I don’t know,” she said, confused. “Maybe my roommate can pick me up.”

“Okay,” he said easily. “We can figure it out if she can’t.”

Shiloh nodded, and then mounted behind him. For the entire trip to The Inkpot, dread slowly clouded her thoughts. The thought about riding home with Jake spiked her fear, and she noticed that lately, instead of getting better, it seemed like each day made her more and more afraid of the world.

Maybe that’s what happened with trauma. It evolved instead of disappearing. The events flashing through her head were a snowball rolling downhill, growing larger and larger with each rotation. What happened when it hit the bottom? Or did she become Sisyphus, forever trying to return the boulder of ice and pain up a never-ending hill?

She didn’t know what to do, where to turn, or how to get through the quicksand slowly pulling her under. Ignoring what happened didn’t seem to be working, but she honestly had no idea where to turn next.

Through the afternoon, she responded to people and smiled when necessary, but it was all an act. A fragile shard of glass ready to break apart at the slightest pressure. When it was time for Jade to leave, it hit at the precise weak point, shattering the fragile grasp on her emotions. Jade reached out for her and led her outside, saving herself the embarrassment of breaking down in front of the others.

He lifted her chin with a finger. “Breathe with me, Shiloh.”

She placed her hand on her chest, feeling her heart pound as a cold sweat broke across her skin. “I ... I c—can’t...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, and she raised her head to lock gazes with him. “You can. You’re stronger than the fear.”

“No, I’m not,” she cried, tears welled up in her eyes.

“Yes, you are,” he countered soothingly. “If you weren’t strong, you’d never have followed that asshole into the alley hoping to save a woman you didn’t even know.”

She kept shaking her head. “You don’t know the real me. I’m broken.”

“No, you aren’t,” he said, pushing some hair behind her ear before cupping her head. “I’ve seen broken, Shiloh, and you are not that. You’re battling demons I can’t see, but maybe one day you’ll trust me enough to let me fight them with you.”

It was hard to believe him. Trust was a razor’s edge she balanced precariously upon.

“Call your friend,” he said. “See if she can pick you up.”

With shaky hands, she took her phone from her back pocket and unlocked it to call Vette, who answered quickly.

“Shi? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Can you pick me up tonight?”

“Of course. What time?”

“Um, midnight?”

“No problem.”

Relief surged through her. “Great. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”