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11

RAVEN

T he hammering on the front door makes me jump, and for a moment, I simply stand and stare in the direction of the noise.

The knife I was using to chop the sweet potatoes is heavy in my hand, and I debate taking it with me. Instead, I look out of the window and see Wraith looking up at me from the street. “Open the fucking door, Raven.”

I place the knife out of Fen’s reach, wipe my hands on the cloth, then hurry down the stairs.

When I open the door, Wraith has a bunch of hardware supplies in his hands. “Gonna put a new lock on your door,” he says.

The simple gift of safety warms my heart more than any bouquet of flowers I ever received.

“Wraith,” I say, the word breathier than I intended.

“It’s just door locks,” he says. “Shouldn’t have a kid in here with such crappy locks anyone can open. What if he tries to get out in the night? Or a fucking weirdo tries to kick the door down?”

My initial reaction is to argue, but I catch sight of something in his eyes. It looks a lot like…longing.

Yet his tone contains something close to anguish and fear.

It makes no sense.

“There are a million things I wish I could do to make the world safer for Fen, but the reality is my budget can’t buy that right now. Believe it or not, this crappy apartment in the middle of nowhere is safety to us.”

He looks down at the floor for a moment, and I see his shoulders rise and lower, like he just took the deepest breath. “You gonna let me fit them?” he asks.

“I can’t afford them.”

“You don’t need to pay for them.”

For a moment, I consider refusing them. But in a battle that measures my pride against Fen’s safety, my son wins every time. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna get started.”

I step back into the small hallway at the bottom of the stairs. “Can I get you a drink? I don’t have alcohol, but I have coffee. I can make it as sweet as you like.”

Wraith’s features ease. “Coffee. Sweet would be good.”

Something in the simple request makes my heart beat harder. When I married Marco, I worked reception at the local tire dealership so didn’t make great money. I wasn’t career minded or that clever at school. All I wanted was to excel at being a good wife. To make an apple pie and have it savored. To create a home my husband could come home to and leave the worries he carried at the door.

I wanted that feeling of being valued by someone.

I hurry up the stairs and grab the fresh coffee grounds from the fridge. The smell of coffee soon fills the apartment, and it only takes five minutes before I’m walking down the stairs, cup in hand. “Here you go.”

While I don’t want to get involved in another violent life, I can’t ignore the way his fingers feel as they brush over mine.

“Thanks,” he says. His eyes close as he takes a sip. “You make good coffee, Blue.”

Compliments have been rare in my life, so I soak this one up like dry earth exposed to water.

“My dad always thought so.” Thinking of him stings a little. We agreed I wouldn’t be in touch for a while. “Did you ask the Dobsons if it was okay to do this? I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Wraith smiles and puts his cup down on the first step of the stairs. “Got the fixings from his store. He covered the cost of them.”

“Oh, good.”

He rips open the packaging containing the new lock. “Take a seat on the stairs. I got some questions for you.”

It would be rude to refuse, given he’s doing me a favor. “What kind of questions?”

Wraith busies himself taking screws out of the old lock. “Heard you and Fen earlier. Bruises. And you just said this place is safety to you. You in some kind of trouble?”

I wish I’d brought myself a cup of coffee because I suddenly feel cold. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well, my club keeps the peace in this town. If trouble’s coming, I’d rather be on the lookout for it.”

“Oh, you’re concerned about the town. For a heartbeat I thought you were worried about Fen and me.”

He stops screwing for a second, then continues. “Same thing.”

I watch his back as he works while I try to piece together an answer. But his hair is tied up in a messy bun and I keep looking at his curls with envy. His hands are utterly competent; his forearms covered in ink are…distracting.

There are dates, crosses, and roses. A part of me wants to ask what they mean, but if I had to guess, I’d think they were connected to the lifestyle he lives.

“Trouble isn’t going to find me here. I just want to keep my head down and find some peace.”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “The problem with a small town like this is that everyone knows everyone else’s business. You’re the new woman in town. Working at Ma’s diner. A popular spot. Folks know the new girl is living above the hardware store.” He returns to removing the old lock. “Some stranger comes looking for you, waving a picture around, people can confuse causing trouble with being helpful. Next thing you know, he’s knocking on this door because people know you live here.”

“I’m thinking of leaving,” I admit.

“Him or here?”

“Both?” I don’t know why it sounds like a question. “Although, technically, I already left him.”

Wraith wrangles the lock out. “After I lugged that fucking dresser up the stairs?”

I don’t know why, but I laugh. “Sorry, this whole situation isn’t funny, but something about the way you suggested I should stay here for a dresser…” I laugh again.

But Wraith puts the lock on the floor, crouches in front of me, and touches my knees. His palms are warm through my denim. “Don’t leave.”

“Why?”

“Because I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find my wife. And if you married a man as determined as me, he isn’t going to let you go easily. Especially since that’s his kid upstairs.”

There is so much to process in his words.

I would have gone to the ends of the earth for my wife.

Past tense.

And I did marry a man like Wraith.

Or did I? I suppose they are both criminally minded. Only my husband left me and hasn’t contacted me at all. He isn’t looking for me, in fact, I’d guess he was glad to be rid of me.

“That still doesn’t tell me why I shouldn’t leave. If anything…” I glance up the stairs, aware my voice might be carrying to Fen’s ears. I drop the volume. “If anything, it makes me think I should keep moving. Picking up shifts for a week or two before moving on.”

His pale blue eyes remain fixed on mine. “That’s not fair on the kid.”

His words irk me. “Please. This year has been more than enough. I’m doing the best I can with what I have to work with.”

He squeezes my knee. “I know. That’s why you should stay. The club can protect you. Keep an eye out for trouble if you tell us who we are looking out for.”

I consider what he’s saying for a moment, but I can barely focus because of how close he is to me. He smells of soap. His palms are warm, and I don’t know if he realizes it but he’s squeezing and massaging my thighs. I feel giddy. Dizzy, even.

Everything in me tightens.

His pale blue eyes are filled with a sincerity I don’t want to acknowledge.

At least, not yet.

I can’t. Doing anything with this man would be so utterly reckless.

I look over to the door, searching for something to break the spell I’m under. “Did you also get a new safety chain?”

Wraith stands so quickly, it’s like I just burned him. Or he realized we’re in the small space of this hallway, way too close to each other too.

He continues with his DIY project. “Yeah. I got a new main lock, a chain, and a dead bolt.”

“Tell me about the club. What do you do? Is it your full-time job?”

His shoulders flex as he drives screws into the wooden frame. “I’m sergeant at arms for the club, and yeah, it’s my full-time job.”

“What does a sergeant at arms do?”

He stops what he’s doing for a second but doesn’t turn around. Like he’s contemplating something. “I make sure the club and its members are safe.”

“Like a security guard?” I can see why he would be a good person for the job. His size and demeanor make him a man I’d be reluctant to cross.

“Not exactly. I’m not standing at the door of the clubhouse monitoring people coming and going. But I make sure that any work we’re planning on doing can happen without anyone getting hurt.”

Maybe it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me, but I swear I can fill in the gaps of what he’s leaving unsaid. Motorcycle club business is illegal. People carry guns and can get injured or killed. He helps plan whatever they do to make sure none of his men get hurt.

Somehow, that makes his presence even more reassuring. Perhaps I’m losing my mind. I can’t decide if it’s self-preservation…that I’d rather be on the right rather than wrong side of him. Or it could be as simple and basic as I want to be near someone who has the skills to keep me and Fen safe right now.

“Why did you decide to do that with a motorcycle club rather than, say, the military or police or something like that?”

Wraith closes the front door, and it snaps shut perfectly. “Because I’m shit at following bullshit orders and didn’t want to shave my head.”

He reaches for his coffee cup and takes a gulp. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and even that is attractive.

“Is it dangerous?” My question is quietly spoken. I can hear Fen humming to himself upstairs.

Wraith reaches for a lock of my hair and lets it slide through his fingers. Warmth trickles through me as it falls back to my shoulders. “Not sure a woman clearly running away from something should be making comparisons about how dangerous my lifestyle choices are versus her own.”

I stand. From my place two steps up, we’re eye to eye. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I need to go see to Fen.”

As I turn, Wraith reaches for my wrist and spins me back to him. His lips brush mine so quickly and gently that I almost miss the warmth and flavor of him.

“I’m a dangerous man, Raven. You’re right to be cautious of me. But I’m still going to make sure nothing happens to you.”

And this time when I turn and run up the stairs, he lets me go.