Page 4 of Hard & Haunted

The thin fabric of my shirt catches directly against the fresh, tender skin of my brand. A blinding, white-hot flash of pain radiates straight from my bones. I realize my shirt had been pressed against the open wound and dried there after my shower. In my reach, I just ripped the healing scabs right off.

A sharp gasp rips from my throat. My arm spasms, my fingers instantly losing their grip on the heavy ceramic. I jump back with a terrified cry as the plates slip and shatter against the tile floor with a deafening crash.

Hot, fresh blood begins to trickle down my back, soaking into the cotton shirt. Panic overrides my senses. I drop to the floor, curling into a tight, defensive ball in the corner of the kitchen, squeezing my eyes shut as I brace for the inevitable blow, the yelling, the fury I've lived with my whole life.

“Look at me, Eden.”

My name sounds warm, solid, and somehow soul-affirming coming from him, cutting right through the terror. Despite every survival instinct screaming at me to hide, I open my eyes.

Onyx looks utterly ruined. Tormented.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Ever,” he vows, his voice rough and laced with intensity. “I will never lay a hand on you in anger. I will never yell at you.”

“But… the plates…” I whisper, my voice cracking.

“Don’t mean shit. You’re all that matters,” he says firmly, dropping to his knees in front of me. “You could break every single plate, bowl, and glass in this kitchen, and I wouldn’t give a damn. It’s just stuff, Raindrop.”

I don't know how to process this kind of unconditional grace, especially packaged inside such a towering, muscle-bound biker. His dark eyes sweep up and down my frame, hunting for any hidden damage. They lock onto my right shoulder, where a fresh stain is blooming through my shirt. His jaw cements into a hard line, and a fierce, possessive flare ignites in his gaze. It’s not suffocating or terrifying, but rather a deep, radiating, protective fury that makes me feel cared for and truly seen.

“Can I see it?” Onyx whispers, tipping his chin toward my shoulder. When I turn around, he gently eases the fabric away from my back. A low, gravelly curse escapes his lips. “Let me patch you up, okay? I didn’t think about a fresh bandage after your shower.”

He guides me gently back to the table, pulls out a medical kit, and sets to work cleaning and redressing the burn. When I let out a tiny whimper at the sting, he instantly freezes, whispering a broken apology.

That single word completely shatters me, and hot tears spill over my lashes. When was the last time anyone apologized for hurting me?

“All done here,” he murmurs. “What do you need right now?”

I stare at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

“Close your eyes, Eden,” he instructs softly. “Imagine you’re safe, warm, and happy.”

I sit in silence for a long, heavy beat. Slowly, my voice drops to a whisper. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I was safe, warm, and happy.”

I open my eyes to see Onyx’s deep, sorrowful frown. I instantly dip my chin, terrified I’ve disappointed him, that I’m too broken to fix. But instead of pulling away, he reaches out, cupping my jaw with his large, calloused hand and tilting my chin up. His brown eyes lock onto mine with unwavering focus.

“What’s one thing that takes your mind off the noise and chaos?”

“Drawing,” the answer slips out automatically.

Onyx’s eyebrows lift, and a slow, genuine smile breaks across his face, like a general who just received his marching orders. Without a word, he stands up, sweeps around the living area, and gathers up stray notepads, pencils, and pens.

I stare at them, breathless, whispering a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

Before he can reply, a deep voice echoes from the main hallway. “Church!”

Onyx lets out a sharp, frustrated curse, but immediately reaches down to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I have to go to a quick meeting with the President and the other officers, but I’ll be back in no time.”

I nod, though a familiar hollow ache of vulnerability ripples through me at the thought of being alone in a strange place.

Only a few minutes later, the kitchen doorway darkens, and a friendly, beautiful woman a little younger than me walks in. She stops short, looking a bit startled to find a stranger sitting at the table, but her expression instantly melts into a warm, welcoming smile.

“Hi, I’m Corinne,” she greets, holding out her hand. I take it, not sure how to respond to such immediate kindness. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. These are good men. Protective as hell, from what I’ve experienced so far. Oh, by the way, I’m Hadley’s little sister. Have you met her yet? She’s Wolf’s old lady. You know, Wolf? The Vice President?”

“Uh…” Truthfully, I don’t know any of these people, but I don’t want her to stop talking to me.

“Duh, silly me. I’m getting way ahead of myself.” Corinne smiles again, her clear blue eyes hiding nothing. She’s simply enjoying herself and our conversation. “I only knew my sister when I showed up here, but the other ladies have been so welcoming. Have you met anyone else?”

“Just Onyx,” I tell her with what I hope is a normal smile. It’s been so damn long since I’ve had a friend.