Page 6 of Silent as Sin
He pulled me onto the saddle. The seat vibrated beneath me, heat seeping through my legs. My arms hovered, frozen with uncertainty, until the other man—Warden—spoke from his bike.
“’Round his waist, sweetheart, or the road’ll take you.”
So I wrapped my arms around Ashen. Careful. Hesitant. But when the engine roared and the ground shook, I clung tighter.
The desert wind hit me like a slap. Dry, biting, dragging at my shirt and tangled hair. The sky stretched endless above, gold bleeding to violet, stars just beginning to spark awake.
I pressed closer to him, forehead brushing the leather of his cut. My silence held, but inside, something cracked.
Not fear. Not yet trust. But something.
I’d thought I would die in that hidden space, buried alive with my flock of folded paper birds.
But now, with the thunder of the bike beneath me and the steady strength of Ashen carrying me into the night, I thought—maybe—I had a chance to live again.
CHAPTER THREE
CRATER RIDGE, ARIZONA
By the time we rolled into Crater Ridge, nighthad swallowed the desert whole. The sky was black velvet stretched wide, stars scattered bright as shined silver. The air carried that cool edge that came only after the sun bled out, the scent of dust and mesquite riding on the wind.
Her arms were still looped around my waist, her silence pressed close against my back the entire ride. She hadn’t shiftedonce, not when we hit gravel, not when the wind tore at us. She clung like letting go would drop her straight into the dark.
The clubhouse lights glowed ahead, the lighted club sign buzzing over the gravel lot. Rows of bikes lined up like soldiers, chrome catching every scrap of light. The building itself rose from the desert like it had been carved there, brick and steel building, and scars layered deep into its bones. Rough. Weathered. Unforgiving. Home.
I cut the engine. The roar died, leaving the night too quiet. I felt her flinch at the sudden silence. Her hands eased, slow, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to keep holding on.
“It’s okay,” I said softly, tilting my head so she’d hear it. “We’re here.”
Warden’s headlight swept across the lot as he pulled in beside me. He killed the engine, boots crunching gravel when he swung down.
The front porch door creaked open. Maul stepped out first, a beer dangling loose in his hand. His heavy frame caught the light, face set like stone. Behind him came Scyth, then Hex and Rex—twins as quiet as shadows with piercing eyes, trailing after with their usual edge of impatience. Throttle sat on the steps already, cigarette glowing red between his fingers, lips tugged into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.
Six sets of eyes, all landing on her.
She shrank back against me. She wasn’t trembling, but her silence rang louder than any scream.
Maul’s voice broke first, low and rumbling. “What the fuck is this, Ashen?”
“Something we missed at the ranch,” Warden said before I could answer. His tone was clipped, his stare daring any of them to push it.
Elara appeared in the doorway, Warden’s ol’ lady. Round belly under her tank, braid tossed over one shoulder. Her gazeflicked from me to the woman beside me, and softened in a way the men’s never would.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “What happened to her?”
“Explanations later,” I muttered, my voice rougher than I meant.
Hex stepped down the porch, eyes hard, calculating. “She talk?”
“Not yet.”
Rex tilted his head, mouth twisting. “Not ever? She deaf?”
The woman’s silence stretched out like a wire pulled tight. Her eyes flicked from face to face, wide and unblinking. Every man felt it, I could see it in the way they shifted, restless under the weight of it.
“Warden?” Elara asked, moving to her husband’s side. “Tell me what’s going on?”
Before he could answer, the side door banged open and Jewel stepped out, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Boys,” she snapped, sharp as a whip. “Don’t stand out here staring like you’ve never seen a woman before. Let her breathe.”
