Page 23 of Silent as Sin
Wren hesitated, eyes flicking from the food to him, then to me. When I gave a small nod, she reached out, fingers trembling as she picked one up.
Throttle’s smile softened. “Atta girl.” He turned back to his plate, not pressing her, not lingering on the moment. Just letting it be.
I watched him, my jaw tight. Throttle was a good man, one of the most easygoing brothers we had, but I’d never seen him go out of his way for anyone like this. Not even Calla. Why her?
The noise of the kitchen rose again, conversations overlapping, chairs scraping, plates clattering. Life went on around us, loud and unruly. But all I saw was her, sitting here with us. Trying.
And across the table, Throttle watching out of the corner of his eye.
Something in my gut twisted.
I didn’t like it.
Wren wasn’t mine, but it sure as hell felt like it, and Throttle would do well to back off.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE AIR OUTSIDEfelt different.
Warmth slid over my skin, sunlight soaking into me in a way I had dreamed about while being held by Venom. Ashen led me out the clubhouse door. The noise of the kitchen faded behind us, replaced by the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves high in the trees.
I blinked against the brightness. It was almost too much, too blinding after so long in shadows. But I didn’t turn away. I lifted my face toward it, let the heat brush across my cheeks, let myself breathe deep.
Ashen walked beside me, silent. Not crowding, not rushing. Just there. He didn’t ask if I wanted to come outside. He hadn’t needed to. Somehow, he’d known.
My hands twisted in the fabric of the dress. Words pressed at the back of my throat, raw and restless. Thank you. Just two simple words. They burned like fire, clawed like they might rip free if I let them.
But fear shoved them back down.
If I spoke again, if I proved last night wasn’t an accident, it would be real. And once it was real, I couldn’t take it back. Silence had been my shield, my one line of defense, and letting it go felt like stepping bare into open air.
Ashen slowed his steps, glancing sideways at me. The sun caught in his hair, gleamed against the dark ink on his arms. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, his eyes taking in the small smile on my face.
I swallowed hard, throat aching. The words trembled against my lips, desperate to answer. Yes.
Instead, I nodded. Small. Careful.
His mouth curved, not a smile exactly, but close. A flicker of something softer than I’d ever seen in him. “Thought so,” he murmured.
We walked on, gravel crunching under our feet, the quiet between us not heavy this time but… something else. Safer. Easier.
Still, the war inside me raged. The part of me that wanted to speak, wanted to trust him with my voice, fought with the part that clung to silence like it was survival. My lips parted once, almost, before I snapped them shut again, my heart hammering in my chest. Venom didn’t work alone, danger still lurked in the shadows.
Ashen didn’t push. He never did. He just stayed beside me, steady as the sunlight, as if he had all the time in the world to wait.
I found myself wishing I had the courage to give him more.
The sunlight felt so wonderfully warm. It made me restless, like the warmth was coaxing me to reach for something I hadn’t touched in years.
My eyes caught on the line of bikes parked near the clubhouse. Chrome and black steel gleaming in the sun, wild freedom wrapped in metal and speed.
Ashen’s bike stood out. Big, dark, powerful.
I stopped. My breath caught, chest tight.
The memory hit sharp—Venom’s grip on my arm, the press of his body as he shoved me onto the back of his bike, the roar of the engine drowning out my screams.
But alongside the terror came something else. A pull. A yearning. The thought of wind tearing through my hair, of speed carrying me away, of freedom pressing against my skin. But this time it would come with safety.
