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I wake up gasping, my breath getting stuck in my lungs as if it has no place to go. The pounding of my heart has my ears ringing, and my skin is soaked in sweat. It takes me a long moment to remember where I am. To remember I’m safe. To remember I’m no longer with them. At least for now, the monsters of my past can’t touch me, but I know better than anyone that safety won’t last forever.

The room is dark, shadows stretching across the walls. I stare up at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity, praying my heart will stop pounding and trying to remind my body how to breathe. I sit up, dragging my hands down my face, trying to ground myself. But the pounding won’t stop. My chest feels like it’s caving in.

Lily.

She haunts me, because I know that while I’m here, she’s out there alone, and there isn’t a single thing I can do to help her. I throw the covers back and stand, grabbing the hoodie off the floor. The clubhouse is quiet—most of the guys are now passed out after a wild night of sex and drugs. It’s an entirely different world to the one I know, and yet I find a strange comfort in it.

The door creaks as I push it open. Cold night air slaps me in the face, and I welcome it. It’s quiet out here. Still. For a second, I let myself breathe. I let myself remember that I’m still alive and, so far, I have survived the unthinkable. Now, all I have to do is finish this part of my life, to complete this journey, so I can finally understand what life feels like outside of the horror I have lived.

"Look like you’ve seen a ghost."

The voice comes from the shadows, thick, husky, so familiar and comforting. I turn, heart spiking and cheeks growing red as I see Talon stepping into the soft light shining from an old streetlamp outside the compound. Holding a cigarette between his lips, completely shirtless, he is the picture of danger, and everything inside me begs to find out more.

"You always lurk in the dark?" I mutter, pulling my hoodie tighter around me and staring down at my bare feet.

He inhales deeply before moving the cigarette between his fingers. "You always bolt outta bed like you’re runnin’ from the devil?"

How accurate his words actually are.

“You have no idea just how close that statement is,” I murmur.

He leans against the railing outside the line of rooms, arms crossed, eyes locked on me. Watching. Always fucking watching. There’s a storm behind his eyes, and I know that he has lived a life equally as dark as mine. There is something about the way he holds himself that I can relate to. A deep kind of agony that so many don’t understand.

"Bad dream?" he asks, voice low.

I let out a sharp breath, glancing away. "Something like that."

He nods, not pushing. I like that he doesn’t push.

"You think they’ll come lookin’?"

My stomach twists. “Of course they will. There isn’t a place in this world my father couldn’t find me.”

“He scares you.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

An accurate one.

“It’s not him that scares me; it’s what he’ll do to me that I know I’ll never recover from. As a person, my father is calm and collected, his voice a warm mix of arrogance and dominance. He doesn’t have to raise his voice, because he knows that everyone around him will come running the moment he speaks. That’s the kind of man he is. So, no, it’s not him I fear as such...”

He stares at me. “He won’t touch you here.”

I give him a pained smile. “I like your confidence.”

His eyes narrow and his face hardens. “Nobody comes ‘round here and walks away without feelin’ the wrath of the club.”

I like that he thinks that. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“And they don’t know what I’m capable of," he growls. "They show up here, they’ll leave in pieces.”

I believe him. That’s the scary part. I have no doubt this club would fight in a way that should scare me, and yet it doesn’t. I feel safe with them around, and in a twisted world, they could be seen equally as monstrous as my father, but it just doesn’t feel the same. Not to me, anyway.

“It’s not just me I’m worried about,” I say, forcing the words out. “It’s what they’ll do if I don’t come back.”

His brows pull together. He’s confused.

“They’ll hurt them,” I whisper. “The ones I left behind. They’ll make an example out of them. They’ll make them bleed for what I did.”

His jaw tightens, and he flicks his cigarette into the dirt. “Then we find a way to make sure they don’t get the chance.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that easy.”

“Nothing’s easy. But you made it out. If you can be free, then why can’t the rest of them? You tellin’ me there ain’t other fighters in there, ones willing to go against it all?”

“I’m not a fighter. I got out by chance. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was kidnapped, I’d still be in there.”

He steps closer, close enough that I feel the heat rolling off him. “Bullshit. I can see in your eyes that you would have found a way. There is a rage in you that wants justice, and I got a strong feelin’ you’ll get it.”

I blink back the burn in my eyes, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.

“You ain’t goin’ back,” he says again, firm. “I’ll make sure any one of those fuckers that even tries never sees the light of another day.”

He means it. Every word. There’s no fluff in his voice. No false promises. Just cold, hard truth. My heart skips a beat. I don’t know why they’re helping me. They don’t know me. I’m just a stranger to them, and yet they’re willing to put it all on the line to help me.

“Why do you even care?” I ask, voice hoarse.

He looks me dead in the eye. “Because I know what it’s like to have monsters in your past. I don’t appreciate those fuckers getting the chance to win.”

I stare at him, unsure of what to say. I’m not used to someone giving a damn. Not like this. I can’t honestly say there has been a single person in my life that has cared. That’s the sad, horrible truth. I’ve been alone since the very first moment I took my first breath. My biggest fear is that I’ll still be alone when I take my last.

“What happened to you that makes you understand?” I ask, softer now.

His eyes darken, but he doesn’t answer right away. He looks out at the dark, jaw locked, breathing steady. “Some things should stay buried,” he says finally. “I got ghosts, same as you. I choose to keep them locked away.”

I nod slowly. We stand in silence, side by side. I don’t know what it is about Talon, but he tugs pieces of my heart I didn’t even know existed. I’ve never felt anything like it. An instant connection, a bond that almost makes me think we were meant to cross paths. I’m scared that it will only cause me more pain.

“You get much sleep at night?”

I snort. “Not unless I pass out from exhaustion. I can’t remember what it feels like to sleep properly. To be honest, I’m not even sure I have slept well in my entire life.”

“Come with me.”

I glance at him. “Why?”

His eyes flash, but I could swear his lip twitches. “I got somethin’ to take the edge off. Don’t worry, it ain’t drugs. Somethin’ else good.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

A low, throaty chuckle. “Noted.”

My cheeks flush, but I follow him anyway. We walk around the side of the clubhouse to a separate building tucked out back. It’s quieter here. More private. I haven’t had much of a chance to look around. Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve been so wrapped up in surviving. Do I dare let myself relax, just a little?

We step inside a small room with a fireplace, a battered couch, and a couple of mismatched chairs. Talon throws a blanket over the couch and gestures for me to sit. I hesitate, wondering what that blanket might have seen, but I try not to think about it too long. I sit.

Talon disappears for a minute and comes back with a mug of steaming coffee, the aroma strong and delicious. “Keep this stash separate. Real coffee, not that piss-water inside.”

I can’t help the small smile that stretches across my face as I take the mug.

“Thanks.”

He drops into the chair across from me, legs spread, arms resting on his thighs. Watching me again. God, he’s beautiful. There is just something about him. My heart skips a beat, and I look down at the mug, afraid he’ll see in my eyes exactly what I’m feeling.

“You ever tell anyone else about what happened in that place?”

I shake my head. “Nobody wants to hear it. Nobody cares. As far as the world is concerned, they’re just people living off-grid, choosing a better life.”

“Tell me.”

I blink, shocked. “Why?”

“Because carryin’ shit like that alone? It’ll eat you alive. You talk, you bleed a little of it out. Makes the load lighter.”

I stare at him. His face is a perfect mix of danger and beauty. His eyes are the most exquisite part of his face, being different colors. One is a stark blue and the other a more hazel-type color. His hair, dark blond and messy, only makes his eyes jump out against his olive skin. He’s everything and more. The members of the club call him Steel, but Talon is always how I’ll see him.

“I guess the scary part is that I don’t know anything different. I was born into that world, and I’ve never left it. Never gone to school, never had friends, never experienced the outside world. That place, it’s all I’ve ever known.”

Talon’s mouth twists. “You’ve never been outside of it?”

“Here and there. I somehow managed to make friends with a girl outside of the camp, and that’s how I got kidnapped. I was trying to sneak out and see her. Otherwise, no, my life has been that cult.”

“You always know it was bad?”

“The cult? Yeah. When I was little, it was just what I knew, but as I got older, I knew something was wrong. I guess I was different.”

“Ever try to run?”

I shake my head. “I wanted to, believe me. But where would I go?”

His eyes flash. He understands.

“There is a little girl in there named Lily. When she was born, she was sickly, and they just didn’t care about her. I did. I always made sure she was taken care of. In the end, she is the reason I didn’t run. She is the reason I fear them now.”

“We’ll get her out.”

He says that with such confidence.

But he doesn’t know the kind of monsters they are.

“This is a war I’m afraid you might lose,” I whisper.

He leans forward, eyes pinning mine. “I don’t lose.”

I believe that he believes that.

But the kind of evil that runs in that cult... it’s the kind of evil most people can’t even begin to understand.

“I want them to burn,” I say, so softly I wonder if he’ll even hear me.

“Then we’ll fuckin’ do it together.”

I hold his gaze.

He means it.

Do I dare allow myself to hope?

I JOLT AWAKE, MY NECK stiff, and the faint crackle of dying embers in the fireplace echoing in the silence. It takes me a long moment to remember where I am, and as my eyes zero in on the coffee mug on the table, it all comes flashing back. Somehow, I fell asleep on the damn couch. I rub the back of my neck, groaning softly as I sit up. The blanket Talon threw over me has fallen to the floor.

I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.

A stark reality that I’m still here.

Still breathing.

Still free.

Sort of.

My family haven’t caught up with me yet, but they will.

I stand, stretching, and pad barefoot across the cold floor toward the hallway. The entire place is quiet. It must be early. Outside, the stale stench of smoke and last night’s chaos still lingers in the air, wafting through the open window. It’s chilly, and I shiver as I quickly use the bathroom and then make the decision to shower before everyone wakes up.

Inside my room, I grab clean clothes and head for the shower. I need to scrub off the night, the dream, the way Talon looked at me—like he saw too much. How can he have only just met me, and yet he seems to have the ability to read me like a book? The way he looks into my soul sends shivers down my spine. I’m scared of the things that Talon makes me feel.

The bathroom is empty, and I sigh in relief. I flick the lock and turn on the water. It groans through the pipes before spilling hot and hard against the tile. Steam curls up the mirrors as I step out of my clothes and into the water. For a few minutes, I just stand there, letting the heat burn my skin and soothe my sore muscles. For a second, I just pretend this is normal. That I’m a normal girl, living a normal life.

Not a runaway.

Not a marked soul.

At the reminder of the life I ran from, I grab the soap and begin to scrub. Hard. Too hard. My skin stings, but I keep going. The memories mess with my brain, and I scrub as if that will wash away the guilt I am feeling. I know that this is the right thing, but knowing Lily is there and I am here is eating me alive. I know they’ll punish her for what I’m doing.

I don’t know if I can live with that.

The door opens.

I freeze, my back facing the outside, my eyes widening with horror.

“Fuck,” a deep voice mutters. “Didn’t know you were in here. Sorry.”

Talon.

My heart lurches into my throat. I spin around too fast, slipping slightly on the wet tiles, my hands instinctively flying to the wall so I don’t completely fall over. I’m not moving to protect him from seeing my naked body, no, I’m moving so he can’t see the jagged scars lining my back. The ugly, broken pieces of me.

But I’m too slow.

He sees.

Everything.

“What the fuck ...” he breathes, his voice low but sharp.

Shame washes over me, stabbing me in the gut as tears well in my eyes. “Get out!” I cry, backing into the wall, trying to shield myself, even though it’s pointless now.

He doesn’t move.

His eyes are locked on mine.

“Who the fuck did that to you?”

“Get out,” I yell again, my voice shaky.

“Not until you tell me who the fuck did that to you.”

His voice is steel. Hard. Controlled.

“I said get out!” I scream.

His eyes flick with something—rage, pity, maybe even confusion or shock. I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want him to see what I allowed them to do. I don’t want him to think I’m weak for letting it happen. For staying even when I could have run.

I frantically turn the water off, shoving the shower door open quickly and lunging forward, snatching the towel off the rack and wrapping it around myself. Then I get the hell out of there, darting past him as panic rises in my chest. I hate myself for how I reacted, and yet I’m so utterly ashamed that he saw that.

I just need to get out.

I rush out the door and straight into the early morning light outside. The air bites at my wet skin, but I don’t care. I don’t want to see that look on his face a second longer. My hands tremble as I rush toward my room, praying nobody sees me like this.

“Nia?”

I freeze at the sound of Mera’s voice, laced with concern. It’s coming from behind me, and that means that not one, but two people are seeing the damage on my back today. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, contemplating just running into my room and slamming the door.

But I owe Mera my life.

I turn slowly, facing her with bloodshot eyes and a broken-down expression. She’s standing by a bike, leaning against it wearing a pair of jeans and a tank, her long red hair flowing around her shoulders. I really do owe Mera so much.

The moment she notices my face she pushes up off the bike.

“Hey,” she says gently, walking over. “You alright?”

I shake my head.

“You wanna talk?”

I press my lips together. Then I nod.

She offers me another smile and then we go into my room where she sits on the end of my bed as I get dressed. Then, I lower myself to the floor and sit cross-legged, running a brush through my hair as I look up at her. I already know that she has guessed what happened. I know she saw my back.

“He saw,” I croak, angrily ripping the brush out when it hits a tangle.

“Talon?”

I nod.

“How?”

I hesitate. Then, quietly, “He walked in while I was showering, by accident.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t go down well?”

I snort. “No, it didn’t. He demanded to know who did it and I just freaked out and ran. I can’t believe he saw that. I know what he’ll think now.

“You don’t owe anyone the story,” she says, “but you should know—he’s not the kind of guy who’ll judge you for whatever it is that caused those marks.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, softly. “It’s the ugliness it adds to me.”

Her eyes widen. “There isn’t a single part of you that’s ugly, Nia. Whoever made you believe that, they were wrong.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Talon would never look at those scars and think you were anything but perfect.”

If only that were the truth.

“He’s going to seek justice for me, I know it,” I exhale, dropping the brush in my lap.

“And you don’t want him to?”

I look up at her, shaking my head. “It’s not that. I’m just afraid of what might happen. To the club. To the people I love.”

“Well, take it from me, the club has a way of getting things done. I was hesitant to ask for their help, too, but in the end Wolfe is the reason I’m here today, and the reason you are, too.”

I do owe them so much.

“I hate that he feels sorry for me, that he looks at me like something that needs to be fixed.”

Mera chuckles. “He doesn’t. That man doesn’t do pity. What he does do is protection. Loyalty. Fury. And from the way he looks at you, honey, I think you should brace yourself.”

“Do I dare ask what I should be bracing myself for?”

She just grins.

I swallow. “I appreciate him wanting to help. But it’s not his battle.”

“Too late for that.”

I close my eyes.

Great.