Page 95 of Emmy's Ride

My chest ached with the weight of it. The truth I didn’t want to admit. But I still shook my head, unwilling to let him be right. “I just need?—”

He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “What do you need, Emmy?”

I could feel the warmth of his body, the steady control in the way he held himself back.

My throat tightened. I wanted to tell him I needed space. That I needed time. But if I were honest… I didn’t want either of those things.

I wanted him. I just didn’t know how to take that step forward when the past few days clung to me like a second skin.

His thumb brushed lightly over my chin before he pulled back. “You’re exhausted. Get some rest.”

The sudden loss of his touch left me unsteady. Unmoored.

“Austin—”

“We’ll talk in the morning.” His voice was softer now but still held that unquestionable authority. “Go.”

I didn’t argue. Deep down, I knew he was right. I wasn’t ready.

I hesitated, then nodded, turning on my heel and heading down the hallway toward one of the club’s rooms. Not his bedroom. Not where we’d been together. Lying in his bed now after… would feel wrong. Like I would be violating what we once had by sleeping there now. I didn’t deserve to sleep there.

I picked one of the vacant rooms and kicked my shoes off but left my borrowed clothes on and climbed between the cleansheets. They smelled like fresh linen. For a moment, I regretted getting them dirty.

I smelled and not in a nice way. I stank of bad decisions, the jungle, and sweat. Even if I had the energy to shower, would I ever feel clean again?

I’d been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, when the door opened. I knew it was Austin. Without a word, he picked me up and carried me to his room and gently placed me in his bed.

“That shit stops now. This is where you belong. I won’t touch you until you want me but just know that I always want you.”

Staring up into his eyes, I saw the pain in their depths. I wanted to ease his worry. I wanted to be what he needed, but I couldn’t get the words out that he wanted to hear. They were frozen in my throat. Would I ever again be what he wanted?

Austin took his clothes off, leaving his black boxers on—something he never did—and crawled into bed beside me, but keeping space between us. I lay back and listened to him breathe, the sound lulling me into calmness. Without thinking about it, I rolled over, and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me into his side. It wasn’t much, but it was the only comfort I could give him.

Eventually, I fell into an exhausted sleep.

The compound was suffocating.

I’d been back for a week, and everyone treated me like fragile glass, like I was about to break at any second. Maybe they were right.

I’d called Maya and my boss and made up an excuse of being sick and needing extended leave. Lying wasn’t in my wheelhouse, but it was better than telling them I’d been kidnapped.

Being at the clubhouse was hard, yet so very easy. Dangerously easy. I needed to leave, but Austin refused. And the worst part was that a part of me was relieved.

As brave as I’d sounded assuring Austin I could take care of myself, I didn’t trust myself alone. Not yet.

I sat curled up in the corner of his bed, knees hugged to my chest, staring at the wall like it might hold the answers I couldn’t find within myself. The guilt was swallowing me whole, digging its talons in deeper every time I replayed the moments in that room. Javier’s voice slithered through my head, the things I did, the way my body betrayed me. And then the moment I fired the gun and ended his torment.

God, I was disgusting.

I helped people. I was a licensed therapist who counseled victims, guided them toward healing. But I couldn’t help myself. I was drowning in shame, unable to even look Austin in the eyes without remembering what I’d done.

What kind of woman got off with a man like Javier? A man that wasn’t my lover? Wasn’t Austin. The man I loved.

What kind of woman let herself feel pleasure under a monster’s command?

A broken one.

A ruined one.

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