Page 2 of Goose’s Wren (Wolfsbane Ridge MC #10)

Wren

The sunlight wakes me before anything else does. It’s warm and almost gentle.

For a second, I pretend it’s a good morning. That the air smells like coffee and freedom instead of mildew. But then I move, and the ache in my cheek drags me all the way back to reality.

I suck in a breath as the throb sharpens behind my eye. He got me good last night.

Usually, Tim’s more careful. He prefers to bruise where no one else will see. But sometimes he slips, especially when he’s been using, and the world turns blurry for him. He doesn’t care who sees when he’s that far gone.

I sit up slowly, my back sore from another night on the hard floor. I seriously need to see if I can find an old mattress in the dumpster behind the thrift store in town.

Tim never came back after he stormed out last night, and a small part of me is grateful. The rest of me is just waiting for the next storm.

My bag is still there, tucked beneath my blanket, zipped tight around the only pieces of myself I’ve managed to keep hidden from him.

I check the front pocket and my stomach knots when I see the cash is gone. He must’ve rifled through it while I was too out of it to fight back.

Luckily, I’m not stupid. I never keep all of it in one place anymore.

There’s a stash hidden under a loose board in the bathroom. Folded bills in a plastic sandwich bag. Just enough to scrape by.

I make my way to the tiny bathroom and flick open the moth eaten curtain covering the small window to let light in. The mirror is cracked, but the reflection doesn’t lie.

My cheekbone is red and swollen, the outline of his hand faint but clear enough to know exactly what happened.

I sigh, grabbing the cheap concealer from my makeup bag. It’s not the right shade, and it doesn’t do much, but I dab it on anyway.

No one who’s paying attention would be fooled. But most people in White Summer know how to look the other way. I should know. I grew up here.

I pull a clean old black tee with the sleeves cut off over my head and comb through my hair with my fingers pulling it into a messy ponytail. My sunglasses go on last, the thick black frames big enough to cover most of the damage.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I step out into the morning light, the sun already giving fair warning it's going to be a blistering day out.

I need coffee. Real coffee. Not that instant crap I’m sure we still have a little of in the trailer.

That means going to Bella’s Brew. The little shop in town that I remember smelling like sugary pastries.

Bella was always kind, even when I was just “Sparrow’s little sister.” She might remember me. Or she might not.

Either way, I need caffeine and a few minutes in a place that doesn’t stink of rotting floorboards and desperation.

And after that... I need to figure out who’s hiring.

Tips are my only shot at keeping something for myself. Something Tim doesn’t know about. Something he can’t take after he’s beat me.

Because if I don’t find a way to make a little money of my own I may never find a way to get away from him.

The thirty minute walk to town seems to take forever. I’m not used to being without my bike. Back in the city everything was close to the apartment.

Rounding a corner, I spot the sign for Bella’s on the door across the street and hurry over to it.

The bell over the door jingles as I push it open, and I inhale deep. God, it smells incredible in here. Warm vanilla, roasted espresso and something sweet baking in the back.

The air-conditioning is a soft contrast to the already rising heat outside, and for a moment, I just stand there, letting it all soak in like I’m starving for it.

The place hasn’t changed much. Chalkboard menus, mismatched mugs, cozy booths. It feels like it belongs in a bigger town, but somehow it works here in White Summer.

I spot Bella immediately behind the counter. She’s still effortlessly gorgeous in that earthy, boho kind of way, with soft waves in her dark hair and a fitted vintage tee tucked into ripped jeans.

She’s wiping down the counter while chatting with another woman.

The other woman is blonde, with confident eyes and a cowboy-casual vibe that enhances how beautiful she is. Boots, denim shirt knotted at the waist, the kind of look that says she could run a ranch and still bake you a pie.

Bella glances up when the bell rings again and her eyes land on me. Her smile falters just a hair before she plasters it back on.

“Hey there!” she says, setting down the rag. “Welcome to Bella’s Brew.”

She says it like she doesn’t recognize me. Maybe she doesn’t. It has been years.

But then she tilts her head, her smile softening into something more curious.

“...Wren?”

I nod, heart thudding. “Yeah. Hi.”

“Oh my God. I thought that was you.” She rounds the counter and pulls me in for a light hug. I go stiff for a second, but she doesn’t press. “It’s been forever. You’re back in town?”

“Yeah. Just got back last week.” I force a smile. “I’ve been meaning to stop by.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. This is Hayden, she co-runs Wolf’s Landing out near the ridge with my husband, Blade.”

Hayden offers a small wave and a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say, adjusting my sunglasses even though it’s dumb to wear them indoors.

I know they’re looking. I know Bella’s looking. The bruise might be faint under makeup, but the swelling’s still there, and the sunglasses probably make it more obvious.

I glance up at the menu chalkboard. “Can I get a large iced coffee? Just black.”

Bella nods, but she doesn’t move to make it right away. “You want anything to eat? I’ve got fresh muffins, banana bread, scones...”

I shake my head. “Just the coffee. Thanks.”

She hesitates another second, then heads back behind the counter. I feel her eyes on me the whole time, like she’s trying to figure out the right question to ask.

Hayden steps up next to her and starts loading the espresso machine, but she’s sneaky about the way she’s watching me too.

“So,” Bella starts casually, “you staying with family or...?”

“Not really. Just... renting a place.”

“Out by the ridge?” she asks, her tone light, but I can feel the edge of something beneath it.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my voice even. “The trailer on my family’s old land.”

Bella glances at Hayden, then back at me. “That place was supposed to be condemned, wasn’t it?”

“Guess no one followed through,” I mutter.

There’s a long pause before Hayden hands over the coffee. “You ever worked in a coffee shop before?”

I blink, caught off guard. “Uh... no. Why?”

“We’re short-staffed,” Bella says smoothly, but her gaze is sharp. “And you’re clearly not afraid of early mornings.”

My hand tightens around the cup. The lid creaks. She’s trying to help. Offering a job without prying, but we both know what she’s doing. She saw the bruise. She saw it the second I walked in.

She’s not asking what happened. She’s giving me a way to fix it. A way to get out.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly. “Thanks.”

“No pressure,” Bella says, her voice gentle now. “But if you want a place where your tips don’t disappear out of your wallet before the end of the day... we’ve got one.”

I meet her eyes then. She doesn’t look away. It’s an odd feeling to be seen without opening up to someone.

Bella smiles gently and reaches for a cloth to wipe her hands. “Hang on a second. I’m gonna run to the back and let my mom know you’re here. She used to worry about you. Always asking if anyone had heard anything.”

Before I can stop her, she’s already disappearing through the swinging door that leads to the back kitchen.

I’m left standing there, coffee in hand with my heart hammering like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.

I shift uncomfortably, sipping from my cup to distract myself. It’s strong, maybe a little bitter, but it’s perfect. And it reminds me I’m still standing, still here. No matter what Tim tries to take from me, he hasn’t taken me yet.

Hayden gives me a small smile from behind the counter. “She’s not wrong, you know.”

I glance up at her.

“You do look like you could use something to eat.”

“I’m fine,” I say too quickly, then sigh. “I’m just not hungry.”

She doesn’t push, and I appreciate it.

But I barely get another sip in before the door bangs open again and Sunshine bursts into the room like her name is a full-blown personality.

Same long silver-streaked hair, flowing peasant top, and enough bracelets on her wrist to sound like wind chimes when she walks.

“Oh my stars,” she exclaims, eyes lighting up the moment she sees me. “Wren! Baby, look at you!”

Before I can react, I’m being pulled into a warm, tight hug that smells like cinnamon and garden herbs. Her arms are strong and familiar, like she’s trying to squeeze all the years apart into a single moment.

“I told Bella you’d come back one day,” she says, pulling back just enough to hold my face in her hands. Her eyes, sharp despite the soft laugh lines around them, search my face and linger just a second too long near my cheek.

But like Bella, she says nothing about the bruise. Instead, her hands drop to my shoulders and she makes a soft tsking sound.

“You’re too skinny,” she declares. “You always were, but now you’re really too thin. When was the last time someone fed you properly? Don’t even answer that. Sit down. Sit, sit. I’ve got warm blueberry scones, and I made a fresh tomato basil quiche this morning.”

“I’m not—” I try to protest, but she waves me off.

“Nope. Not hearing it. You were always polite, but you didn’t eat enough even then. And I know for a fact your sister never let you have the first bite of anything if she could help it.”

I blink, caught off guard by the mention of Sparrow. I’ve tried my best over the years to forget she even exists. But Sunshine just pats my shoulder, herding me toward a booth like I’m still seventeen and sneaking in after school with a backpack full of library books.

Hayden quirks a grin and leans toward me. “You’re about to eat. Just accept your fate.”

I do.

Because honestly... It's been a while since someone looked at me like I mattered without wanting something in return.

And I don’t think I can remember the last time someone fed me because they wanted to. Not because I had to earn it, not because they were expecting a favor or sex or silence afterward.

I slide into the booth and wrap my hands around the iced coffee like it’s a lifeline. The tears try to rise, but I blink them back fast.

Sunshine brings over a plate, muttering about getting more butter and jam before disappearing again in a flurry of clinking bracelets.

Bella follows with a steaming mug. “Just in case you change your mind after breakfast,” she says, setting it down. “Hazelnut. With cream. Your favorite, right?”

I stare at it, something in my chest cracking wide open.

She remembered.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel just a little bit less invisible.