Page 33 of Goose's Wren

“The prospects are on the way,” he says quietly.“Two cages.One to take you both back to your cabin.”

I nod, not letting go of her.My voice is gravel when I speak.

“And the other?”

His eyes harden.“For him.”

Good.

I don’t say anything else.There’s nothing more to say.I just hold Wren tighter and wait for the sound of engines in the distance, hoping she can feel it.That she’s not alone anymore.

Wren

My crying finally stops, though my chest still trembles from the aftershocks.I don’t move from my spot in Goose’s lap.I don’t want to.

His arms are like a shield wrapped around me, keeping everything dark and cruel out.I feel...safe.For the first time in a long time.

Like maybe I belong somewhere.Like maybe I’ve always belonged right here.

The distant sound of engines drifts toward us, tires crunching on gravel.I flinch without meaning to but Goose tightens his grip, murmuring something too low for me to hear.Doesn’t matter.The way he says it, the way he holds me...I know I’m okay.

Timber walks out of the busted trailer a second later, brushing dirt from his hands, face unreadable.

“You need Doc to meet you at the cabin, sweetheart?”he asks gently.“We can have him there in twenty.”

Before Goose can answer for me, I lift my head from his chest, wiping at my face with a shaky hand.My voice comes out raw but steady.

“No,” I say, looking straight at him.“I don’t need Doc.I just need a shower.I need the stench of him and that trailer off me.”

Timber nods once with respect.

I start to shift, pushing up with sore arms and legs.Goose immediately tries to stop me, his hands on my waist like I’ll break if I move wrong.

“Wren...wait...”

“I’m okay,” I whisper, giving him a faint smile.“I can walk.”

He doesn’t look convinced.But after a beat, he lets his hands fall and rises to his own feet.He stands close in case I sway or stumble.Straightening my spine, I plant my feet on solid ground.It hurts, but I don’t show it.I won’t.

Because I’m not broken.Not anymore.

I feel his hand lightly rest on my back as we turn toward the approaching cars.I heard when Timber said that one is for me and Goose.The other...the one for Tim...I don’t even want to look.

Let them deal with him.

Goose falls into step beside me, silent but solid.As we stand there together waiting for the car that will take us home, I realize this isn’t just about survival anymore.It’s about starting over.

We turn towards the sound when the cars finally come into view.Relief surges through me like a wave.I take a step forward, ready to get in and never look back until Timber’s voice slices through the quiet like a blade.

“Goose, who the fuck is that?”

I freeze.His tone isn’t casual.It’s tight and suspicious.

A second later, he lets out a loud, sharp whistle.The kind of whistle that means something’s wrong.

Goose steps in front of me instantly, blocking my body with his.His hand drops to the small of my back, gently but firmly urging me backward, toward the tree line.

I turn my eyes to the road just as the vehicles roll to a slow stop.They’re not club vehicles.They’re sleek, dark, and too small.The club likes their jeeps and SUVs.These little cars are too expensive for these roads.

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