Page 2 of Laila Manning (Shadeport Crew #3)

“I—” Stammering, I swallowed away the anxiety, “I don’t know how to,” I finished, hating the uncertainty I felt in my heart being in a small space with him.

The vicious things my grandparents had told me about Jed over the years, beating them into my brain, were hard to un-believe.

Even after spending three months living in his world and seeing who he really was now.

I looked down my nose to watch Jed as he processed that, and I saw the hurt in his eyes before he dropped them to the bed between us.

“I never should have let them take you from me.” He said quietly.

It was the first time he had spoken of our grandparents or our past at all.

Neither of us had wanted to rehash those painful days when I got out of the hospital and somehow, we both silently agreed to just move forward, forgetting the past altogether.

But I knew from Carly that it killed him not knowing what happened in the nearly two decades that we were separated.

I was an adult now, but with just a few words, I was transported back to being a kid cowering in my big brother’s arms begging him to make the monsters of the world stay away.

“You didn’t have a choice. And you didn’t know any better, Jed.” I said, lifting my head off the headboard to look him square in the eye, something I struggled to do with anyone, especially men.

“Are your nightmares–” He started and stopped, rubbing his hand over his face, and taking a deep breath. “Are they about what happened when we were kids, or about after that? ”

I didn’t want to have this conversation, especially at three a.m., fresh out of a sex dream with my biggest fantasy brought to life from across the hall.

But I wanted to try to give him something .

Jed deserved every bit of loyalty and selflessness I could give to him for saving my life, not once but twice.

So, I ripped the Band-Aid off, ignoring the way my heart raced in my chest as I tried to articulate my feelings into words.

“I don’t remember much about that night when we were kids,” I said, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to hold his gaze as I swallowed down my fear and discomfort.

“I remember what happened before he attacked me, and I remember you carrying me.” His pupils dilated and he swallowed quickly as I watched the muscles in his neck work beneath his skin.

“I remember the way you smelled as you carried me to the Thompson’s.

” I chewed on my lip and dropped his gaze, feeling my brow sweating from even trying to look into his eyes for that long.

“I remember it calmed me down because I knew I was safe with you, even when I couldn’t see through my swollen eyes. ”

“I had no idea then that it would be the last time I got to hold you.” He said, and I could feel the grief in his words without even looking at him. “They took you from me before I even realized they could do that.”

“I know,” I whispered as pain burrowed its way into my chest at the painful memory.

“They lied to me for months, telling me they had to wait for the court to release you, and then they had to wait for paperwork.” I shook my head.

“I think they were just hoping I’d forget about you or something if enough time passed.

” I shuddered at the intensity of his brown eyes locked on mine.

“But I never did, Jed. I never forgot you or stopped wanting to be near you again. Please know I didn’t just move on while they abandoned you.

” I hiccupped as emotions bubbled up and tears blurred my vision .

I swiped at my face as the salty moisture rolled down my cheeks and Jed moved swiftly, sliding up the bed to sit at my feet, before pulling me against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around my shoulders, and holding me as years of pain broke free.

I sobbed, clinging to him as he rocked us back and forth, soothing me as I struggled to get myself under control.

Human touch hurt. Physically, it felt like I was being burned alive as he hugged me, but I let him anyway.

He needed it. So, I endured. For Jed, I would endure.

“I never stopped thinking about you, Laila. I tried looking for you when I got with the crew, but they changed your name, and I couldn’t find you.

And I struggled with so much self-doubt that you were better off without me.

I was a thug, with an anger problem and a habit of using my size and power to make others bend to my will.

I was in no shape to be a good influence in your life.

” I felt his own tears hit the top of my head as he held me in a vice grip, working through his own emotions.

“But then—Carly whispered to me as she walked by me in that brothel that you were there, and every lie I’d ever made myself believe about you being better off without me burned to ash. I’m so sorry.” He cried.

“I’m sorry you had to see me there,” I said firmly.

“I know you blame yourself, but you can’t.

My own decisions led me into that life, I trusted the wrong people, and before I knew it, I was imprisoned.

” I pulled back and looked up at him and took a deep breath.

“But you saved me. Again. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life healing.

But I’ll find my purpose and happiness again, and when I do, I hope you can let go of that guilt and grief alongside me. ”

I puffed a giant breath of air out, blowing my loose bangs out of my face for the hundredth time in the last six hours. My feet ached from the unsupportive sneakers I was wearing that went with the dress code as I made a mental note to go buy some new ones the next time I got paid.

“Are you even listening to me?” The woman on the other side of the counter snapped at me. She was about my age but wore a fancy business pantsuit and had a giant diamond weighing down her ring finger as she snapped her hand in front of my face.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” I stuttered and looked back down at the computer screen in front of me. “Large nonfat latte with extra whipped cream and extra chocolate sauce? Anything else?” I asked, looking back up at her with a smile on my face that I hoped was genuine-looking.

Nonfat with extra whip and chocolate syrup?

Because that made sense.

“That’s it.” She bit at me again, snapping her gum obnoxiously.

“Name?”

“Victoria!” She all but screamed at me. “I’m here every day! Don’t you pay attention?”

“I apologize,” I replied on autopilot as she slid her platinum card through the reader, I wrote her name on the side of her cup and passed it to my runner.

It was a Tuesday, right after the lunch rush, but we were still swamped, and I wanted to be anywhere else in the world than here at this quirky coffee shop that catered to the needs of Shadeport’s most snobby coffee drinkers .

Well, almost anywhere else.

I’d been in worse places than this.

And that mental reminder was the only reason I came back every day.

I’d gotten the job as a barista a month ago because I needed to have a task every day.

Sitting at Ryker and Ellie’s house, while lovely and relaxing as it was, left me way too much idle time to think about everything that had happened over the last few months.

Or the last few years, really.

And idle time was the opposite of helpful, even though my new therapist had insisted that talking about my past would help heal my emotional wounds.

But I just couldn’t .

I didn’t want to.

So, I worked myself weary in this upscale coffee shop until I was so tired that I was left with no choice but to return to my quiet piece of serenity and fall into an exhausted sleep for an hour or two.

Then I’d get up and try to pretend I hadn’t been held captive in a sex trafficking brothel for years as I got to know my brother and his beautiful fiancée and their friends.

Only to pass out and dream all night long and wake up at four a.m. to do it all over again.

I was living the dream.

But at least it was my dream, and I got to decide what to do with it now.

“Are you daft?” The woman asked with a sneer as she took the large coffee from my hands, spilling it over the edge and burning my fingers. I didn’t remember my runner even handing it to me, yet there I stood, holding onto it, and gazing off into space.

“Shit.” I cursed, wrapping my hand in my apron as tears burned my eyes from the pain .

“That was your fault.” She accused. “You’re so stupid you can’t even hand someone a coffee the right way.”

My boss, Nate, walked forward to the counter and handed her a pile of napkins.

“I’m so sorry, Victoria. Your next one is on the house. I’m sorry for all this, she’s—difficult.” He said in a nasal, heavy voice that drove me absolutely insane.

He was eighteen and had been promoted to manager by his dad, the owner of the store, but he was the worst kind of boss out there.

I held my burned hand to my stomach still, even though he didn’t spare me a second glance.

Victoria started to say something to me, no doubt another insult, when a shadow descended on her, and a large, imposing man walked right up against her back. I looked up into the eyes of the scariest man I’d ever met .

“I think you need to think twice about whatever that cunt mouth of yours was about to say to her.” He warned in his dark tone.

“Diesel.” I hissed, my eyes jumping from the woman who went as white as a ghost as she looked up into the face of the notorious president of the Reaper MC. My boss stood next to me with his mouth agape and was also silent for once in his pathetic life.

Diesel Ames turned to me and raised an eyebrow as he let his eyes drop over my body from hair to toes and back. I should be revolted by his gaze, or at least wane under it, but for some reason, I never shrunk around him.

And he had been coming around more and more lately.