Page 5 of Unveiled Wounds

“Sit your ass down,” Sabre ordered.

I placed my hands on the edge of the table and balanced my weight against them. “I would lay my life down for any of you or your families, but you can’t do that for me. You don’t even try, and then you want me to sit here with a smile on my face. Fuck that.” I sat down, crossing my arms over my chest.

Sabre glossed over what I had said, moving the meeting along. “I think we should vote to get the land surveyed first. Let’s see what we’re working with and then go from there.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee.

Pretty called for the vote, and every brother went around the room, raising their hands, until it came to me. I watched as Count raised his at the last second, exchanging a glance with Cyph before turning his eyes back to Sabre. It could have been nothing, but I highly doubted it.

“Grizz?” he asked me.

“Yeah.” I raised my hand, not giving a fuck if they ever developed the land back there.

Chapter 3

Piecing Myself Together

Meredith

I lay in bed with the covers pulled up to my chin as I watched Grizz get ready for the day. He dragged his jeans over his tight ass, and I said nothing. This had never been us, and I wondered who these people were in our places. I didn’t have to ask how we had gotten here—I knew. I didn’t have the answers on how to fix the void we had created.

I opened my mouth, and the words flew out before I recognized what was happening. “You know you’re supposed to jiggle, right?”

“Huh?” He turned his upper body to look at me over his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to jiggle it, or maybe wiggle. Either way, your ass should have had some movement for my entertainment.”

“Really?” Grizz hadn’t zipped the jeans, and the flaps were wide open. His buckle hung through the belt loops but clanked every time he shifted. He’d thrown a white t-shirt on, but it pulled tight across his chest as he faced me, his hands clenchedinto fists on his hips. “I’m supposed to entertain you?” His one eyebrow raised on its own.

My lips curled into a smile. “Uh-huh.” I bobbed my head up and down. “I’m not seeing any benefits of marriage, Jonathan.”

“You want—” he spat out. His neck tilted forward towards me as his eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and truthfully, I didn’t know where any of this was coming from. I was winging it, trying to be someone I wasn’t sure I could be anymore.

“You marry someone while they’re unconscious. You lure them to your room in the clubhouse. And you’re not even showing your assets? Trust me, no one wants to miss the goods.” I pulled my good hand out from underneath the covers and waved it around aimlessly.

He smirked at me before raising the hem of his t-shirt, teasing a peek at his six-pack abs. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

I held my smile in place, but I really wanted to pull the covers up over my head. If he couldn’t see me, then we wouldn’t have to talk about the monsters in the room. “Maybe,” I said, definitely meaning no. I couldn’t see a time where I’d ever be comfortable having my scars on display.

He let his t-shirt slide back into place and made a small show of zipping his pants. Once his belt buckle was done, he crawled over my body until his arms bracketed my head. Grizz was strong enough to hold his body in a plank position, never touching me. “One day, baby.” He bent down and whispered in my ear, “The day you beg me will be music to my fucking ears.” He lightly kissed my lips before crawling away from me. Socks, boots, and then he grabbed his cut off the hook as he walked out the door.

I sighed, my fingers touching my lips, still warm from the kiss he’d lain on me. I had taken moments like this for granted, but itwas becoming too much for me to handle. Throwing the covers over my head, I wondered if the thoughts would go away if I laid there as still as a statue.What the fuck just happened? Why do I feel guilty about wanting more?

***

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I still lay flat on the bed with the covers pulled over my head.

“Me,” I whispered into the room. “If there’s any chance in hell, it has to start with me.” I raised my arms up and as I brought them back down, I pushed the sheets towards my waist. “I can do this.” Kicking my feet, I waited until the covers reached the bottom of the bed. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, but you have to try.” I sat on the edge of the bed, swinging my feet. “Get up.”

If I was going to rebuild my life, I needed to know if the bank was going to come after me legally. Grizz had told me about Brandon stealing from the cartel in my name, but I’d been too angry to deal with the ramifications at the time. All I knew was Cyph had been watching the bank foreclose on properties with my name on them. So far, there had been no mention of my condo or bank accounts.

I slid Grizz’s sweatshirt over my head, tucked my hair into the hoodie, and stood in the hallway. I thought about knocking on a few doors, but I didn’t know which room was whose. There would be too many questions, and for once, it felt good to be doing something productive. I didn’t have enough strength to deal with a bitchy biker. Giving myself one last pep talk, I whispered, “You’ve built yourself up once before. You can do it again.”

My dad had been my first bully, disguising it as wanting better for me. He hadn’t been prepared to raise a five-year-old alone, nor had he taken the time to understand me. I was just anothermouth to feed while he mourned the loss of his wife. To me, love was something I had to earn through perfection—I couldn’t afford to make mistakes, or else someone else might leave, too. If I colored outside the lines, I had to start over, even if it wasn’t who I was at all. No exceptions. Over time, being misunderstood felt like failure, and failure meant starting over.

College had prepared me for my first day at my big girl job. I was the only female designer on the floor, and the men found any reason to nitpick. It hadn’t mattered if it was about me or about my work. They tried to knock me down any chance they could, but I had never given them a legitimate reason to. I had let my work stand for itself, closing several multi-million-dollar clients in my short time there. I had done it once, and I could do it again.

Heading towards the main room, I stopped at the top of the stairs. Emily was sitting cross-legged at one table, twirling a piece of hair. I watched as she read the first page in a stack, moving it to one of the piles scattered on the table when she was done. If anyone could help me, it was Emily, but I hadn’t really spoken to her, too self-absorbed in my bullshit.

I was about to take the first step down when Zook walked into the main room from the kitchen. He made a direct beeline for Emily, but she was so engrossed in her reading she didn’t hear him. Approaching from behind, he wrapped his hand around her throat and tilted her face to the side. I had to turn away as they kissed, but I snuck glances out of the corner of my eye. When he pulled away from her, his hand still at her throat, she tugged on his beard. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t know they had an audience. Butterflies danced in my stomach as I thought about all the times Grizz had done something similar.

---