Wild Ride(The Soldiers of Wrath MC, 7)(32)

But Craig came closer, making her feel cramped, suffocated, and having her fear climb even higher. She tried to scream, but her voice didn’t work. She wanted to lash out and hit Craig, but her limbs were like lead, soldered to her body, covering her intimate parts.

And then he reached out for her, touched her, made her skin crawl. She did scream out then, loud, clear, full of passion.

Constance woke with a start, her heart racing, her breathing sawing in and out of her lungs, burning her from the inside out like flames licking over her, consuming her. Sweat beaded her brow, and when she looked to the side of the bed, hoping Vengeance was there, wanting his comfort, his strong presence, she saw he was absent.

She smoothed her hand over the bed, the sheets cold, letting her know he hadn’t been sleeping beside her all night.

The clock on the bedside table read three in the morning, and although she was exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. Once she was sitting on the edge of the bed, she exhaled, trying to regain her composure and waiting until her heart rate slowed.

She felt on edge, her nightmare coursing through her like a living entity, a reminder of what she’d gone through.

She’d vaguely spoken to Vengeance about what he’d done to Craig, and although he knew she was safe, that Craig couldn’t hurt her anymore, the fact remained Vengeance was distancing himself from her.

He’d become voiceless in their relationship, and she knew it was because he thought he failed her.

She knew that as well as she knew she was alone right now, wanting the man she’d fallen in love with.

Scrubbing a hand over her face, she finally forced herself to stand and walk to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. After turning the light on, she looked at the mess staring back at her. Sweat covered her temple, her hairline was damp, her hair a dark rat’s nest around her head. The bandage on her cheek needed changing, but she hated doing it. But this was her life, and she had to be strong.

Once that bandage was off she stared at the healing wound, the scar that would be left behind not a reminder of her trauma, but of her survival. That’s how she had to look at it, anyway. She turned and looked at the shower, needing to wash away the nightmare she’d had.

And that was just what she did, because after that she and Vengeance needed a serious talk about where their relationship was going. He needed to know that he hadn’t let her down.

He’d saved her life.

Once her shower was done she dried off, got redressed in comfortable clothes, and headed out of the room. The MC, despite it being the middle of the night, still had people up. A few guys were playing poker, the scent of smoke filling the air, the sound of their drunken slurred voices loud despite the early hour.

She moved past them and walked to the back meeting room. She could have called Vengeance, but if he was in the club he couldn’t be far.

She found him, sitting alone, his back to the door.

“Vengeance?” He slowly turned around in the chair, his face looking exhausted, his eyes heavy in appearance. “We should talk.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, we need to.”





27





The first thought that entered Vengeance’s head was how beautiful she looked. The bandage on her face didn’t reduce her beauty at all, at least not to him. Constance stared at the ground, and the silence that hung between them was uncomfortable, and he didn’t fucking like it, not one bit. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop it.

He loved her. More than anything. His feelings hadn’t changed at all.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“Good. You?” He shook his head. “This is bullshit. I’ve not been okay.”

“Me either,” she said.

Vengeance looked at her, and he saw the tears in her eyes.

“Do you not love me anymore? Am I no longer attractive because of what happened?”

He was in shock with the direction of her thoughts. At first he didn’t know what to say, and for a few seconds, he simply looked at her as if she were some kind of foreign entity. “What the fuck are you talking about?” When he finally got his voice, he was also able to move. Stepping toward her, he cupped her face and tilted her head back so that he could look into her eyes.

Tears spilled over, trailing down his hands. They broke his heart, and he couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain.

“You don’t come near me. I’ve barely seen you since this all went down with Craig. I’ve seen Weasel and Demon more than I’ve seen you.”

Knowing she spoke the truth, he slammed his lips down on hers. At first she was tense, not kissing him back, and then slowly, second by second, she began to melt, to relent, and finally, she kissed him back.