Page 44 of Silent as Sin
It lived on my lips like a phantom, the heat of Ashen’s hand at my waist, the weight of his mouth against mine. The world had gone silent in that moment, no Venom, no scars, no ghosts,just him. It should’ve terrified me. It should’ve sent me running. Instead it lingered warm, alive, proof that maybe I wasn’t as broken as I’d believed.
I sat at one of the long tables, hands folded tight in my lap, trying to look calm when inside I was anything but. Throttle sat across from me, boots stretched out, a mug of coffee balanced in his hand like it belonged there. He hadn’t said much—he rarely did—but every so often he glanced my way, gave the smallest nod. A silent check. You’re here. You’re safe.
It mattered more than I wanted to admit. This clubhouse was still full of shadows to me, voices that could cut, eyes that could pry. But Throttle’s quiet watchfulness kept me anchored until Ashen walked back through the door.
The door swung open and laughter spilled in, bright and sharp. Then her perfume hit, as usual too much, cloying, suffocating. My stomach turned hard as stone.
Roxy.
She strutted into the room, hips swaying, hair glossy under the lights. The laughter followed her like she’d dragged it in on a leash. She went straight to the table where a few sweet butts already perched, sliding onto the arm of Wreck’s chair like she owned him. Her laugh rose above the hum of conversation, brittle and deliberate.
Her gaze cut across the room and landed on me. Slow. Mocking. My breath caught, braced for whatever poison she’d throw.
Her mouth opened, cruel smile, crueler words about to fall.
Before she could speak, Throttle’s mug hit the table with a solid thud, the sound enough to draw eyes. His gaze locked on hers, unblinking. Wreck shifted too, leaning just enough to edge her off his arm, muttering something low I couldn’t catch. Whatever he said, it snapped her mouth shut with a snap of her teeth.
I sat frozen, pulse hammering. I didn’t have to defend myself. They’d done it for me. Though I was grateful the gesture made me feel weaker than ever. I was going to have to toughen up or get eaten by this place.
Still, the weight of her stare lingered, needling under my skin. She wanted me to feel it. Wanted me to fold.
The air shifted again when Ashen walked in. Boots heavy on the wood, cut broad across his shoulders, his face set in lines that said he had things on his mind. It was telling that I felt him before I saw him.
The noise dipped. Conversations faltered. The room knew when he was here.
His eyes swept the room once and found me. Just like that, everything else—her perfume, her laughter, the eyes watching—fell away. For a heartbeat it was just him and me. My chest loosened, my cheeks burned, the memory of our kiss flickering back like fire on dry wood.
He looked restless, storm burning under his skin. But his gaze on me was unshakable, grounding.
Then Roxy laughed again. High. Shrill. She leaned in to whisper against Wreck’s ear, but her eyes never left Ashen. Waiting. Testing.
The room seemed to hold its breath.
Ashen didn’t give her a glance. Not one. He walked past her without pause, his hand brushing my hair as he passed. The touch was small, fleeting, but it branded me, a claim made without words. My heart stuttered so hard I thought the whole table could hear it.
Roxy’s smile faltered. Her laugh came too sharp, too forced.
Throttle leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed, catching every unspoken thing in the air. His eyes narrowing at whatever he picked up.
I wrapped my fingers tighter together in my lap, fighting the urge to reach for Ashen, to show him what his presence meant. My heart thundered, the memory of his kiss burning hot against my mouth, while the sting of Roxy’s stare crawled like acid at my back.
But Ashen was here. Ashen was solid.
And for the first time, I let myself want that strength. I let myself believe in tomorrow—not because the world was safe, but because he’d be in it.
***
BREAKFAST ENDED INnoise, the scrape of chairs, the clink of dishes. I slipped away as quietly as I could, clutching the heat of Ashen’s touch at my back like it was a shield. Roxy’s laughter had chased me down the hallway, edged as broken glass, but I left it behind when I shut the door to my room.
Or I thought I did.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. Metallic. Wrong.
Then I saw them.
Birds. Real birds. Small bodies scattered across the floor by the bed, wings bent at angles no wings should ever bend. Feathers littered the rug like torn paper. Their dark eyes were open, glassy, staring at nothing.
My breath froze in my chest.
