Page 16 of Joyride
“We’ll be back later,” Aria calls as she and Harper walk out the front door. Elena takes my phone out of my hand, setting it on the coffee table.
“Breathe. We’ll get through this together.” Elena sits on the couch and wraps her arm around my shoulder.
I finally start to calm down some when the doorbell rings. I jump off the couch and rush to my room.
I can hear Elena from my room. “Hey Sketch, Diesel. Come on in.”
“I had a feeling she would have you stay with her,” Sketch says. “I hope you don’t mind Diesel being here.”
“Not at all. Can I get y’all anything to drink?” Elena says. There’s some whispering and then nothing. Seconds later, Sketch is standing in my doorway.
“Hey, Little Bird,” he says softly. “Can I come in?”
“This was a bad idea,” I say. He walks in and sits at the end of my bed.
“You’ve never been so afraid to talk to me.” There’s a hint of sadness in his tone. “Did I do something to warrant that?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“But someone did.” It’s not a question. I pull my legs up to my chest, hugging my knees. Sketch scoots closer. “Wren, talk to me. Please?”
I don’t respond right away. “If I do, you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“I already know what I’m going to tell you is going to make you mad. Not at me." I assure him. “You have to promise me you won’t do anything rash or stupid.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “I promise I won’t do anything rash or stupid.”
I let out a heavy sigh. He’s sitting right by me. Not touching me, but there’s this small volt of electricity between us. It’s something that’s always been between us. Anytime I try to ignore it, I fail.
“Something happened with Zack,” I tell him. His eyes shift and I can tell he’s already pissed. Sketch has always been good at keeping his cool. He’s never been one to easily anger. He also has never liked Zack but tried to keep that to himself.
I continue. “Sketch, listen to me. I do not want you to seek revenge or anything, okay?”
“I hear you, but I won’t make you a promise I can’t keep,” he grits out.
“Then I can’t tell you more.” I turn my head away, so I’m staring at the wall. “I know better than anyone how much Zack deserves to be put through hell tenfold. I also know how powerful his family is and what they could do to you, to Shade, or to the whole club. I’m not willing to risk something happening to any of you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as his face sobers.
“Little Bird.” He grabs my hand. When I don’t look at him, his finger comes to my chin. Gently, he tilts my face toward him. “Do you honestly have such little faith in me? In the Savage Menaces? We’ve faced powerful people before and we’re still standing. We don’t scare easily.” He pauses. The wheels are turning in his head. “I promise I won’t do anything without thinking it through.”
11
Sketch
Whatever Zack didto Wren has really done a number on her. I have my own thoughts about what he could have done, and every one of them makes my blood boil. I’m surprised she doesn’t believe the Savage Menaces MC could go up against Zack or his family. At the same time, Shade does keep her as sheltered as he can from anything going on with the club. Something I don’t fully agree with.
She lets out a heavy sigh and I give her hand a light squeeze. I’ve already come up with a few ways to get back at Zack. I’ll narrow my choices down once she tells me what he did to her.
“We were doing some heavy making out when he wanted to take things further,” Wren tells me. Already, my blood heats up. Her eyes look past me, locked on a spot on the wall, as if she’s lost in a memory. “I told him no. Told him I wasn’t ready.” A single tear falls down her cheek. I squeeze her hand again, reminding her I’m right here with her. My breathing shallows as she continues.
“He smacked me across the face and yelled for me to shut up, that I had kept him waiting long enough, teased him for too long. With my hands pinned above my head, he ripped my pants and panties off. I screamed at him to stop. Which caused him to punch me this time and almost knocked me out.”
Tears are streaming down her face. My heart rate picks up, and it’s becoming more difficult to keep a level head the more she tells me. That piece of shit excuse for a man is asking for a one-way ticket to Hades. Wren takes a deep breath before carrying on.
“He shoved his fingers inside me as he unbuttoned his pants. I wanted to keep fighting him, but my head was so fuzzy from him hitting me. As he pulled his pants down, his phone started ringing. He hesitated before answering it. I’m not sure who it was, but I’m so thankful they called when they did.”
Her crying has eased up, but my anger hasn’t. My jaw aches from how tight I’ve been clenching it. Touching Wren, having that physical connection is keeping me grounded and focused on her.
