Page 63 of Thunder's Reckoning

In the small room, I checked on the kids. Zara was curled tight in sleep, Malik hunched over his game with his headphones in, pretending not to wait for me. I backed out and sat on the edge of my bed, my chest aching so deep it felt carved.

Zeke’s kiss still lingered on my mouth. His promise—We’ll finish this later.

But later, for him, might come with red lips and practiced hands.

And maybe I was a fool to think I could ever be anything different.

I brushed my fingers over my lips, my voice a cracked whisper. “I shouldn’t have let him kiss me.”

The tear that followed wasn’t for Gabrial. It wasn’t even for fear.

It was for the first man I wanted… and the truth that maybe I was never meant to be wanted back.

Maybe this was just who men were. Whether in the prophet’s fire or a biker’s clubhouse, the dance was the same. Flesh for power. Touch without meaning. Women offering, men taking.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

DIDN’T TAKE MOREthan a second to see it, thatstiff way she held herself, the way her eyes locked on her cup like it had all the answers she didn’t want from me. Then she stood, muttered somethin’ low, and walked off like I hadn’t just kissed her like she was the only damn thing that mattered.

I knew that look.

The retreat.

The walls slammin’ back up.

Whatever we’d built under that oak tree wasn’t gone, but it was cracked.

Goddamn it. Every time I start to reach her, somethin’ rips it away.

That hang-around who touched me? Hell, I couldn’t’ve told you her name if you put a gun to my head. She was the past, the shit I’d been tryin’ to bury. But Sable had seen enough. Didn’t matter that I’d pushed the woman off. Didn’t matter what I said. Damage was done.

The clubhouse roared around me, laughter spilling, pool balls crackin’, Brenda runnin’ her mouth like always, but my focus was already down that hall. Zeynep caught my eye once, her face too soft for this place, and I knew she felt it too: the empty space Sable left behind.

I shoved my hands deep in my pockets before I put a fist through a wall and headed that way. The hallway was quiet, dark, like it knew it was holdin’ somethin’ fragile.

I stopped at her door. Stared at it until my jaw ached. Thought about knockin’. Instead, I pressed my palm flat to the wood, leaned my forehead there like maybe I could get close enough for her to hear what I couldn’t say out loud.

“Sable.”

Silence.

“You awake?”

Still nothin’.

“I need you to know somethin’,” I said, keepin’ my voice unshakable, though my chest felt like it was caving in. “I haven’t kissed anyone else. Not since you. And I didn’t want to.”

The quiet stretched, cruel and heavy.

“I meant that kiss,” I rasped. “Every damn second of it.”

I dropped my hand, ready to walk. Ready to let her think what she needed to.

Then—click.

The lock turned. The knob shifted. The door opened a crack, just enough for me to see her face. Eyes rimmed red, shoulders locked like she was carryin’ the whole world on her back.

I didn’t move in. Didn’t push. Just stayed where I was.