Page 33 of Wolf.e (The Soldiers of Bedlam #1)

Brinley

A gentle hand on my face, and a soft touch with a warm calloused thumb wakes me from my nightmare.

The nightmare I quickly remember is real.

My eyes flutter open, I shoot up in bed and suck in a breath.

I’m not used to the man Gabriel is yet. Especially like this.

He’s close, watching me intently. Every part of him is brooding.

And at the moment, he’s filthy dirty, which makes him even more intimidating.

“How long have you been there?” I croak.

“A while,” he answers, standing and moving to the Keurig on the desk. He places a cup under it.

I watch him. He looks so out of place performing such a simple, normal task that I’m not sure what to do with it. Guess murderers need their coffee too.

“Your phone hasn’t stopped. Layla and Evan,” Gabriel says as the cup fills and the scent of coffee fills the air.

I reach over to my phone. Ten calls from Lay this morning.

One text from Evan that’s readable on my lock screen.

Ev

Hope you’re settling in at home. Call me if you want to catch up.

I feel my face contort. My life with Evan seems so far away now.

Surreal.

I message Layla so she doesn’t send out a manhunt and ask myself if she truly knows the life these men live. The life her husband lives.

I’m perfectly fine. See you in the dining hall.

PB

You spent the night with Wolfe, didn’t you?

Shouldn’t you be naked with your husband?

PB

My poor battered vagina needs a break sometimes

TMI

PB

So…you’re with Wolfe?

No

PB

Chantel went to your room this morning to get you for the spa. You weren’t there

Just because I wasn’t there doesn’t mean I’m with him

PB

Yes you are. See you at breakfast. Work up an appetite. ??

“What are you going to do with me now?” I ask openly, setting my phone down.

Gabriel looks me over as he adds cream to the cup of coffee, no sugar, then makes his way to me holding it out. I take it from him and my eyes meet his.

“When I said I know it all, I know it all ,” he says.

I can’t decide if I’m creeped out by this or turned on.

“Then you already know who Evan is.”

“Yes.”

Gabriel leans against the wooden hutch as he starts to brew his own coffee. I let my eyes trail over the flexed muscle and veins of his sculpted arms.

He shrugs. “I wanted to see if you were still hung up on him. If he’s going to be a problem. Figured I could tell by how you looked when I said his name.”

“And could you?” I sip my coffee.

“Yes,” he says simply.

Even though I don’t love Evan anymore, I don’t want him involved with this in any way. “That part of my life is long over. I think he just texted me to check in on me.”

I wait as Gabriel studies me.

“You didn’t answer me…about what you’re going to do with me,” I say, growing more self-conscious by the moment as I sit here in just a T-shirt with his heady stare on me. My nipples harden when this man simply looks at me, for God’s sake. My body is a lost cause.

“Because I don’t know what I’m going to do with you yet,” he answers honestly.

“Does Layla know?” I ask. “What you all…do?”

His eyes narrow, and he turns to remove his coffee. He adds nothing. Of course he doesn’t. This man screams I take my coffee black .

“You don’t know what we do just because you witnessed one night,” he retorts.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” I say, in a more snappy tone than I intend.

“You have no idea,” he says.

I don’t argue, only because the way Gabriel says it tells me maybe I don’t.

“There are two ways members deal with their ol’ ladies, or in your case a woman under protection.”

“Captivity,” I correct.

He shrugs. “Semantics.”

I watch as Gabriel wraps his perfect lips around the rim of his paper cup as he sips. “Most of them either tell them everything or they tell them nothing.”

“So Layla doesn’t know much,” I whisper, looking down at my cup.

Gabriel nods, confirming.

“Would he tell her if she wanted to know?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Depends. Every man handles their ol’ ladies’ knowledge differently. He may not want her to know, or she may not be able to handle it.”

“I would want to know all of it. I would never tolerate that,” I say matter-of-factly, sounding very much like my mother. I internally cringe. “Hypothetically, of course,” I add.

Gabriel smirks and I soften. I don’t have a clue as to why this dirty, bloodied version of him is doing it for me, but here we are.

I take a big sip of my coffee and smooth my hair. It’s wavy and knotted from letting it air dry while I cried myself to sleep last night.

“Will I go home?” I ask, feeling weak and at his mercy. I hate it.

Gabriel swallows a big gulp of his coffee, probably the whole cup.

“I can’t trust you yet.” He looks me over as he says it but it’s no answer as to my fate.

I finish what is in my cup.

“Go meet your friend.” He points to my toiletries and clothing under a mirror that hangs on the wall.

“I’m going to take a shower. I have club business and then I’ll be at breakfast with you”—he grabs fresh clothes from his bag as he speaks—“and clean up that glass. Don’t do that again, losing your temper won’t serve you. ”

“I’m not a child,” I tell him with more attitude than warranted and self-admittedly like a petulant child. I look down and see his foot covered in white gauze.

“Then don’t act like one,” he says. “Chris is outside. He’ll walk you down to the main building,” he adds.

“Am I not safe because of what I saw last night?” I ask, just before Gabriel steps through the bathroom door, but he stops in his tracks.

He turns and makes his way back to me, climbing onto the bed and grabbing both my thighs.

My breath hitches as he pulls me down under him and hovers over me.

He smells like campfire and leather mixed with whatever his aftershave or cologne is.

It’s enough to make me crumble.

“You’re not safe because you’re mine, not because of what you saw,” he says.

My pulse accelerates with his words and proximity. Of course Gabriel notices. He focuses on the flutter in my neck and then looks back up at me in question.

“What scares you? When I say that you’re mine or that you aren’t safe?” he asks in a low voice.

“Both.” I gulp. “I’m not sure what scares me more. Being with you or being away from you,” I answer honestly.

Gabriel’s eyes move down to my lips. His Adam’s apple bobs and tension lines the scruff of his jaw. He leans down, and his lips brush mine.

Just a single second of his soft kiss breathes life into every cell in my body. I’m alive and singing as he lingers for one more moment, then backs away. It takes me yet another to open my eyes.

“Good,” is all Gabriel says before lifting himself off me and heading toward the shower. The lock of the door behind him says everything loud and clear. I am his to see, to use, to mold, however he wants.

But he’s not mine.

I breathe in deeply and lay back on the bed. I can’t even tell Layla what this is. She doesn’t know what this club is capable of. She doesn’t even know the man she married, or maybe she does but turns a blind eye?

I can’t trust you yet. Gabriel’s words repeat in my head.

I have a feeling I’m not done fighting this man yet, because there’s not a chance in hell I’ll be living in a motorcycle clubhouse. Gabriel might as well put a bullet in my head now if he thinks that’s going to happen.

***

“There you are!” Layla winks, her massive diamond glints on her left hand. She’s at a table in the main dining hall of the resort with the girls. This place is full. Club members are everywhere, milling about and talking. Some are piling food onto their plates from the buffet.

I head over and get myself some food, but nothing seems all that appetizing. I get juice and coffee. Ax wanders up to the table at the same time I do, we both sit on opposite sides. His eggs and bacon take up all the real estate on his plate.

“Morning, new girl,” he says like nothing happened last night. “Forgot salt and pepper, wifey.” He kisses Layla on the head and heads back to the buffet for it.

“Sleep well?” Layla asks in a low voice.

“We did not have sex,” I say to her automatically.

All four girls look up.

“Two nights and no sex?” Chantal asks. “What are you doing then?”

“I don’t know. Arguing mostly,” I answer honestly, swirling my juice in my glass.

I lean into Layla. “Can I talk to you without you asking any questions?” I whisper. She must see the look in my eyes because her expression grows serious instantly.

Layla nods and stands. “Sure, let’s go to the ladies’ room.”

As we start to walk, I see the shape of Gabriel come through the door to the dining hall but I disappear behind the bathroom door before his eyes lock with mine.

“You’re scaring me, Brin. Are you okay?” she asks the moment we get behind the safety of the door.

I break. It’s unstoppable. The tears start to come. She pulls me in close and hugs me tight.

“What happened? Did he hurt you? I’ll fucking kill him if he did.”

“No.” Not really, anyway…not that I didn’t enjoy.

“Then what?”

I sniff. “I can’t say. I just need a hug, I think.”

“Brin. Did you see something that scared you?”

“You don’t know, Lay? What they…do? You really don’t?” I ask, knowing I’m going to be in trouble for even bringing it up.

She smiles and swipes my hair off my forehead.

“I know plenty, babe. But there’s a difference between wanting to know or asking what the club does, and just knowing.

You can’t be the wife of an HOH member and be delusional.

Of course I’ve seen and heard some things.

I know you might not believe me now, but these guys are better than whatever you saw or heard. ”

I scoff. “Is it normal that they keep someone who sees something?” I ask.

“What?” she asks with a laugh like this is funny.

“He says he’s keeping me because of it,” I blurt out, dead serious.

“What? What do you mean by keeping you?”

I half laugh, half cry. “Stay with him or die.”