Page 7 of Silent as Sin
Jewel was older, seasoned, and carried authority like armor. The closest thing this place had to a mother. When she walked over, her gaze softened. “You can trust us, baby,” she said gently.
She stayed silent. Stone-still.
“She doesn’t—” I started, but Jewel cut me off with a look.
“She can answer if she wants,” Jewel said calmly. But her eyes told me she already knew. She knew what kind of silence this was.
Behind her, Holly, Truly, and Tabby clustered in the doorway, whispering behind their hands, curiosity sparking off them like static.
A gravel crunch sounded off to the side. From the shadows near the row of older bikes, Dusty shuffled forward, hands shoved in the pockets of his battered cut. Gray hair tied back atthe nape of his neck, face lined deep with years. He wasn’t active anymore, hadn’t been for a long time, but he still came around near every night, claiming the place kept him young.
“Well, hell,” Dusty said, voice warm as a front porch drawl. “Ain’t no need to scare the girl stiff. She’s already been through enough by the looks of her.” His gaze flicked to me, then softened when it landed on her. “You’re safe here, darlin’. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”
Throttle dragged on his cigarette, smoke curling lazy into the night. “You sure about this, Ash?” His smirk tilted, but his tone wasn’t mocking, more like a test. “Club’s got enough shit on its plate without mystery girls who don’t talk.”
“She stays,” I said. The words came out iron. Final. My tone left no room for a vote.
At my side, her hand twitched against my cut. Just the smallest brush, but I felt it all the way down.
Warden clapped my shoulder once, hard, the weight of brotherhood in it. “Let’s get her inside,” he said. “She needs a bath, food, clean clothes.” His voice dropped lower, just for me. “We’ll iron everything out later in Church.”
Dusty gave a small nod, like a man promising to watch the fire so the others could rest. “I’ll sit out here a while. Keep an eye on things.”
And she looked at him—just for a heartbeat—and in that moment, I knew she believed him.
***
THE COMMON ROOMquieted the second we stepped inside.
Warden kept his house clean, and it showed. The floors were swept, the bar polished, bottles lined up neat in rows. The pool table sat in the center with its cues stacked proper in their rack. Couches sagged from years of use but weren’t littered with trashor stains. Even the smoke in the air was faint, curling from a few cigarettes but never thick.
The speakers hummed low in the corner playing classic rock, neon signs throwing slants of color over scarred wood. The place carried its history, scrapes in the floor, carvings in the tables, but none of it looked careless. This was a home, not a dive.
The men followed us in, boots heavy on the boards. Maul and Scyth drifted toward the pool table, beers in hand. Hex and Rex claimed their spot near the bar, eyes unblinking. Throttle dropped into a chair by the wall, cigarette glowing red as he leaned back, his smirk lazy but his gaze intense.
Every one of them fixed once again on her.
She shrank tighter into herself, arms crossed like a shield, head bowed. Her silence pressed heavier in here, caught between four walls where every eye had nowhere else to land.
Maul frowned, jaw working slow. “Ashen… you sure she’s okay?” His voice was quiet, cautious, not cruel.
Scyth dragged the tip of his cue along the floor, the sound scraping. “Of course she’s not are you fucking blind?”
Rex muttered something under his breath I didn’t bother catching.
Throttle blew smoke into the air, slow and lazy, cigarette glowing red. His smirk in place, but there was something else behind it, something softer, more curious. He didn’t leer. Didn’t look away either. Just watched.
And then the sweet butts slipped closer to the doorway, whispering behind their hands.
“She’s so thin,” Holly murmured, wide-eyed.
“She’s pretty though,” Truly said, almost defensive, like she had to name it before someone else did.
Tabby just frowned, her eyes cutting. “Pretty’s trouble. Mark my words.”
Their whispers buzzed against my skin like gnats.
She shrank in on herself even more if that was possible, arms pulled tighter, head bowed lower. But she still felt the eyes. I could see it in the stiff line of her shoulders, the way her breath hitched shallow against my back. She knew every stare, every murmur, every judgment.
