Page 24 of Silent as Sin
My throat worked. I looked at Ashen.
The words scraped at the back of my mouth.Can I ride with you?They pushed and clawed, desperate to break free. My lips parted. A breath caught—half-formed sound—then died.
Nothing came.
My chest ached with the failure, shame burning hot in my veins. I dropped my gaze, fists clenching.
But Ashen had already read me.
When I dared to glance up, his eyes were on mine, knowing. He didn’t make me say it. He just nodded once, like we’d spoken without words, and pulled the keys from his pocket.
“Come on,” he said, his voice rough but sure. “You need this.”
The bike roared to life beneath his hands, deep and powerful. He swung a leg over the seat, then held out a helmet toward me. Not a command. Not a question. Just waiting.
My pulse raced. Fear and need tangled so tight I couldn’t tell one from the other. But my hands moved before I could stop them, taking the helmet, fitting it over my head.
When I climbed onto the seat behind him, my whole body trembled. His back was solid, the heat of him bleeding through leather, his scent wrapping around me again. I hesitated, then slowly, carefully, let my arms slide around his waist.
The engine growled. The ground shook.
And when we pulled out onto the open road, wind slammed against me, wild, biting, alive. My dress snapped around my legs, my hair whipped free, and for the first time in so damn long, I felt something crack open inside me.
Not fear. Not shame.
Freedom.
And it terrified me how much I wanted it to last, and knowing it never could.
The bike roared beneath us, the vibration shivering up through my legs and chest until I could hardly tell where fear ended and exhilaration began.
The wind hit hard, tearing at my hair, flattening the thin cotton of my dress against my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, clinging to Ashen’s waist.
Not Venom.
That thought hammered through me. This wasn’t Venom. His grip wasn’t on me. His voice wasn’t in my ear.
Ashen was solid under my hands, steady as stone. He didn’t yank the bike forward like a weapon to scare me; he guided it, smooth and sure, the rumble of the engine a heartbeat I could lean into.
I let the wind push against me, let it scrape the past off piece by piece. My lungs opened wider, air filling me until I thought I might burst.
It was wide. It was endless.
And it was mine.
The word fought in my throat—thank you—but it stuck fast, heavy and unmovable. I pressed my forehead lightly against his back instead, hoping he’d somehow feel what I couldn’t say.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE MOMENT HERarms tightened around me, something shifted.
I’d had women ride with me before, plenty of them, but it had never felt like this. Never like a goddamn vow pressed into my ribs.
She wasn’t holding on for the thrill. She wasn’t here for the image of it or a property cut. Wren clutched me like I was the only tether keeping her in this world.
And Christ, the way it fucking hit me.
Her cheek brushed my back when the wind shoved at her, and it seared straight through the leather, straight into me.Every move she made screamed she was giving me her trust, piece by fragile piece, and it carved something permanent into me.
