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Chapter Two

ARIEL

A wareness is slow to return. It feels like I’m trudging through layers of sticky, thick mud as I claw my way out of sleep and into reality. Pain is the first thing that I notice. It’s clinging to every bone and muscle in my body. I feel weakened by it, but not ruined.

How odd.

I wiggle my fingers and toes, blinking as the fog slowly lifts and the memory of what happened to me returns with ferocity. I don’t want to relive every horrid, agonizing minute of it, but I can’t help it. Everything comes rushing back as my fingers clench the comforter until my knuckles turn white. They ache, like the rest of my body does, but they’re no longer covered in blood, dirt, and grime like I remember them being.

Wait.

Where the hell am I!? And more importantly, who gave me a bath?

I don’t recognize this room. The bed isn’t mine, and it’s not the dump where Perry lived. My wild gaze bounces around the wooden walls and simple, sparse furnishings. Am I a prisoner?

Oh, God. Did Perry give me to someone else?

My mind fractures at the thought, and a scream rips from my throat. I shove off the covers, looking down at my body to see a shirt and shorts that don’t belong to me. Confusion and terror seize my thoughts as I scramble from the bed and nearly trip on the comforter that was neatly wrapped around me.

The door slams open as I bolt upright. There, standing in the doorway, is the biggest man I’ve ever seen. He fills the entire open space with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. I can’t seem to make my brain make sense of his clothes as I stare. He’s not wearing a shirt, but there’s a frilly white apron tied around his waist. It’s so . . . domestic.

“Who,” I choke with a dry throat, clear it, and try again. “Who are you?”

The man lifts his hands, and all I see are long fingers and palms that look as large as my head. He’s huge. Tall. And wow, covered in ink. I don’t think I’ve ever seen arms that big or tattooed in my life.

“Hi. I’m Chomp. It’s my, uh, road name. But everyone calls me that.”

He sounds awkward. Almost nervous.

“Why am I here?”

“I brought you here.” He says it so matter of fact, like I should understand.

I don’t.

“Is this your house, Chomp?” What a weird name. I wonder why he’s called that.

“It is. You needed medical care, and there’s nothing close. The nearest hospital was too far to go to with the extent of your injuries.”

I have so many questions, but there’s only one pushing to the forefront of my mind. Mortification sets in, but I decide to ask anyway. “So, did your wife or girlfriend bathe me?”

His cheeks turn red, but he doesn’t lose eye contact with me. “No, I uh… I did. But not your um, private areas,” he rushes to add, the blush now spreading and covering his upper chest.

I don’t think he’s the type of man who embarrasses easily, yet right now, he’s almost reticent. I nearly giggle when I realize that I’m using huge words, as if there’ll be some kind of test when we’re done talking. Shaking my head, I say, “Thank you.”

Yes, it’s weird that he chose to help me, but at the same time, if he hadn’t, God only knows if I would’ve survived more of Ricky and Perry’s attention . “Um, Chomp? What happened to Ricky and Perry?”

“Do you really wanna know?” he rumbles out, his eyes flashing like the creature’s did yesterday, or maybe it was last night. Hell, I don’t even know how long I’ve been out of it. “Because the short answer is, they’ll never hurt you again. Ever,” he states. “But, if you want the long answer, I’ll give that to you as well.”

“No, I’m good,” I hastily reply as flashes of memory hit my brain. Body parts being flung all over the place, the screams of both men. Yeah, I don’t think I need the long answer at all. Something comes to mind, and I ask, “Will you be in trouble?”

“For what?” he replies. “Ridding the world of two absolute pieces of shit?”

I snicker because he’s not wrong; both Perry and Ricky were beneath the bottom of the proverbial barrel. Still, the last thing I want is this man, who obviously helped me by rescuing me to get into trouble. “I mean, don’t I need to give the police a statement about how an alligator attacked them or something?”

Something quick flashes in his eyes. The pupils close into vertical slits and I swear his eyes take on an inhuman glow, more reptilian than man. They remind me of that alligator, but that’s impossible, right?

I must be losing my mind.

“Your eyes,” I whisper, gesturing to his face.

He blinks, and suddenly, his eyes are brown again with a hint of green. “I don’t know your name yet.”

The change of subject is almost jarring. “Ariel.”

He repeats it, but when he does, it’s like his tongue is caressing every letter. I shiver at the warm timbre as he speaks. “Ariel.”

Wow. How is he even real? He’s like some Greek God that’s been chiseled in stone and brought to life. He’s sculpted and nearly perfect. All rounded edges and not an ounce of fat on his lean frame. There’s not a thing about him that I don’t find attractive, and that freaks me out. I don’t want to feel like this or be near him. I don’t want to be around any men after what Perry and Ricky did.

My arms wrap around my torso, and I take a step back, wary of Chomp and his intentions. “I want to leave.”

His expression falters. “Are you sure? I thought you might like to rest and recover where there aren’t a lot of people around. The lake is beautiful this time of year.”

Why do I feel like he’s trying to sell me on remaining here with him?

“I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.”

I’m actually afraid to stay because I shouldn’t be feeling the way I do right now. In fact, the last thing I want is to embroil him in my shitty life. Perry destroyed who I was as a woman, and I have nothing to offer this man named Chomp. Nothing at all. Sadness seeps into my soul because I suspect that in another place and time, I might feel differently.

He smiles, and it's breathtaking. He’s too handsome with his dark hair, jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and a short and neatly trimmed beard. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“I think it’s best if I leave,” I insist.

His smile wavers. “Okay. But how about you eat first? I made a few different things since I wasn't sure what you’d like.”

I guess that explains the frilly apron, which surprisingly doesn’t make him look effeminate in any way. “Um, since you went to the trouble to cook, I’ll come and eat, but then I should probably leave.”

“You come down as soon as you’re ready. No rush.” He winks at me, spins on his heel, and leaves the bedroom, taking a bit of the light in the world with him.

My life had become such darkness that I felt swallowed by it. How ironic that the first light I feel is after such a brutal assault and with a stranger. There’s something open and honest about Chomp. He feels genuine and sweet. I don’t know how to process that.

How can I after so much cruelty?

But it’s the slight flutter in my heart that decides for me. That teasing bit of light is too enticing to resist. I slowly make my way to the door, noting that my ribs and the bones I thought were broken don’t feel more than sore right now. I move with more ease than I anticipate. I’m definitely not at my best, but considerably less injured than I remembered. In fact, my bruises are yellow and not the deep purple and blue I expected them to be after the brutal beating I received.

How is this possible?

Chomp is in the kitchen when I reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still wearing that apron, and I know there has to be a story tied to it. I don’t ask because my focus turns to the mouthwatering aromas filling his kitchen. There’s so much food! I can’t believe he cooked all this. It’s enough to feed a houseful of people, not just the two of us. My gaze flicks over the taut muscles on his body, and I smirk. He probably needs all that fuel.

“Is all this supposed to be for the two of us?” I ask, taking a seat on a nearby stool. He’s got a center island piled with dishes, and I note there’s a crockpot full of chicken noodle soup; it's just what I need.

“Uh, yeah.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal that he must have spent hours making all of this while I slept. “What can I get ya?”

“Soup and grilled cheese, please.” It’s the best place to start. I love scrambled eggs, sausage, and breakfast food, but I’m not sure my stomach can handle the grease right now.

Chomp ladles a bowl with soup and places it down, followed by a grilled cheese that he cuts in half the right way, into wedges like my mom used to do for me when I was sick. It’s that little detail that brings tears to my eyes, stinging as I hold them back. When was the last time anyone cared enough to treat me with respect or kindness? He even folds a napkin and places it beside me, grinning until he sees the sheen of tears in my eyes.

“Shit. You okay, Ariel?”

No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. They’re all correct answers. I settle on one. “Not sure.”

“Hey, I’m not expecting anything from this. I had all the food. It’s no hardship. I wanted to cook for you.”

One lone tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it aside. “Thanks. It’s been a long time since,” I pause, not wanting to continue. “It looks good.”

“I hope it tastes better than good. I used up all the Gouda,” he laughs.

Gouda? My fav! I bite into the sandwich and nearly moan. It’s so freaking good. I almost smile.

He fixes himself a hearty plate full of the breakfast foods, along with a bowl of soup and some crackers, which he crushes up and then tosses into the bowl. He sits down at the table, careful not to get too close to me, leaving an empty stool between us.

“It’s delicious,” I finally admit after taking another bite, chewing, then swallowing it down. I reach for an unopened bottle of water and raise my brow at him.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink, but I figured water was a safe bet. I also didn’t think you’d want me to open the bottle, all things considered,” he replies. “I also have coffee, juice, and soda, if you’d rather have any of those.”

“No, water’s fine.”

I don’t tell him that I wasn’t allowed to drink anything but water while living with Perry. I’m not sure my stomach would be able to handle anything else. Occasionally, I had Kool-Aid, but again, that wasn’t frequently enough that I trusted my gut wouldn’t expel everything. And this sandwich is too freaking delicious to waste in that manner as far as I’m concerned.

He clears his throat, causing my gaze to collide with his. I see concern and compassion, but no pity, which is a good thing, because it was my own fault for staying with Perry instead of leaving. I deserved what I got.

“No, you damn sure didn’t!” Chomp exclaims, letting me know that I spoke my last thoughts out loud. “No one ever deserves to be treated the way they did you, Ariel. You were obviously in a situation that was outside of your control, and someday, I hope you trust me enough to share all of that, but for right now, just know that you’re safe here. You’re also safe around my club brothers, and Callie, Kodiak’s old lady.”

There’s no way I can share anything like that with him! I might as well just go and jump into the lake and drown myself. Shame courses through me as I let myself think of how horrible the past year has been since my mom died. Practically right after the funeral is when Perry changed toward me. It started with small things: a shove or a push when I didn’t move quickly enough for him. But then, he’d slap me if dinner wasn’t ready when he got home from work. Never mind the fact that I was working as well, he still expected it on the table by six every night. He didn’t like the ‘fake’ cooking as he called it, so all my crockpot recipes were out, and he hated when I tried to meal prep in order to make sure I could accommodate his wishes.

A warm hand gently covers mine, and I look up to see Chomp’s expression change to one of sorrow. It’s like he already knows life has kicked my ass or something. He doesn’t look at me like my coworkers used to when I went to work and wasn’t able to fully cover the bruises. There’s a flicker of fury in those chocolate depths but no disgust.

“It’s going to be okay, Ariel, I promise.”

A knock at the door has him standing as it flies open, and a woman practically bounces in saying, “Spike said to just come on in, Chomp, I hope you don’t mind. God, it smells good in here. Have you been cooking again?”

Chomp chuckles, the vibrant sound sending a wave of pleasure through me as he says, “Slow down, Callie. To answer your question, yes, I’ve been cooking again and there’s plenty if you’re hungry. This is Ariel.” He points to me as I duck my head and shyly nod.

“Hey, Ariel, I’m Callie, but you probably figured that out since Chomp used my name. So, I brought some stuff over for you, but if you’ll tell me your sizes, I’ll go shopping!”

I blink at her words. Shopping? For me?

Chomp shakes his head as he grabs a plate from the cupboard and some more silverware, before bringing it over to the table and setting it in front of Callie. “What do you want to drink, Callie?” he asks.

“Oh! I need coffee, of course,” she replies, grinning at me. “Gotta keep this engine revved up.”

I start giggling because she already seems to be hyper enough to me without adding caffeine. Chomp’s luscious laughter joins in until Callie finally smacks her forehead and grins at the two of us. “Yeah, I might be a little bit excited because Spike told Kodiak that you…” She suddenly stops after glancing at Chomp’s face. “Never mind. I think Kodiak must’ve had Beanie add an extra espresso shot in my drink this morning.”

“Who’s Kodiak?” I ask. “For that matter, who’s Spike?” I pin my stare on Chomp, who can’t hide his wide grin, or the dimple that pops on both sides of his face.

“Spike is the president of our motorcycle club. Kodiak is one of my brothers. Don’t worry, you’ll meet them all eventually.”

I attempt a smile, but just as I start to relax and my belly gets full, I’m hit with a wave of fatigue. I wobble on my seat and nearly tip over.

It’s the look of panic on Chomp’s face that causes me to giggle . . . right before I lose my balance.