Chapter 9

Molly - Chase Atlantic

Nothing has ever felt as good as finally having Bexley's arms wrapped around my waist. The sun is beginning to set now. We've been riding for a little over an hour, and I can still feel her body trembling as she's pressed up against my back. Internally, I'm fucking fuming. I hate that it had to get this bad for her to allow someone to help her finally get away. Part of me is pissed it was Talon who found her and convinced her to leave, especially since I had been trying to convince her to leave him just a few hours before. To let me help her get out.

But in the end, I'm just thankful she finally got out. She's finally safe, and I will never fucking let this happen to her again. She's going to be okay.

I take a left, heading off the highway toward the secluded road that goes along the coast. It's less busy than the highway and will give Bex a prettier view for the last stretch of the ride to the beach house.

Talon and I bought a small beach house together a few years ago. It's nothing fancy, but it's enough for us. We spend most of our time either at the track training or at the warehouse working on the bikes anyway. But when we do get time there, it's nice. There's something about the beach that relaxes me. Maybe it's the salty air or the cool breeze as it comes in off of the ocean. Either way, I know it's the safest place for Bexley right now.

There is one thing I still haven't been able to figure out. Why, after all the bullshit Talon has put me through over Bexley, did he step in and stop shit? I don't know what he saw go down, and part of me doesn't want to know, but it had to be bad for Talon to go against everything he's said and bring her to me. One thing was clear when my brother and I exchanged looks — he cares for her more than he's letting on. Having your own brother care for the same girl as you would probably bother most guys, but not me. I'm not even ashamed to admit Talon and I have shared girls before. Bexley would be the first one to actually mean something to me, at least.

At some point, I'm going to have to talk to my brother and figure out where his head is when it comes to all this. To her. Though knowing my brother, he's not going to want to admit shit. Not after how hard he's been on my ass about Bexley fucking shit up. The thing is, my brother has never been a soft guy. Not even with girls, yet today, he was with Bexley. So he can't hide shit from me.

Gently, I pull her hand from my waist and hold it. I softly rub my gloved thumb over the top of her hand, and slowly, her trembling seems to fade.

Thank fuck.

Sayshen's hand over mine is a comfort I didn't know I needed. Slowly, I intertwine my fingers with his and rest my head on his back as I turn my eyes to the ocean. Pressed up against him, I'm intoxicated by his scent. It's woodsy, with notes of leafy citrus greens and violets.

Part of me still can't believe this is really happening. After everything. After all the years of abuse and fear─ I'm finally free. I'm happy. Relieved, and yet, I can't tell if those are emotions I should be feeling given the circumstances. One thing I do know is that I believe the guys when they say I'm safe, and for that, I'm thankful.

The ocean view fades as we reach a row of beach houses lined up along the white sandy shore. Sayshen slows down and pulls into a large driveway. Lifting my head, I watch as he pulls right up, stopping under a section covered by a large overhanging deck, and turns the bike off. He climbs off the bike before helping me off. My legs are numb and shaky, so I'm forced to use the bike to keep my balance until the blood flow returns. Popping his visor open, he eyes me through the slot before taking the straps for mine in his hands. He unbuckles it before slowly lifting it off my head.

Patting my hair back down, I hold his stare as he removes his next.

"You okay?" he asks, once free of his helmet.

"Mhmm," I mumble. He takes the helmets and puts them on the bike seat before offering me his hand. "Alright, let's go."

"This is your house?" I ask, taking his hand.

"Mine and Talon's, yeah. It's nothing fancy, but it beats living with our dad," he explains.

Flashbacks of the look in Talon's ocean eyes when he found me pinned against the trailer invade my thoughts. The way he rushed in and, without a thought, slammed his fist into Christian. How safe he made me feel, even without knowing him. I find myself hoping he's wrong about Christian. That nothing becomes of what happened tonight and that Christian doesn't do anything to Talon or the team. They don't deserve it.

Not for me.

I'm not worth it.

Sayshen guides me up a narrow white staircase that leads from the driveway to the overhanging deck. When we reach the top, my jaw drops at the sheer beauty captured in the view from their deck. He slowly releases my hand as he unlocks the door. I take a few steps away, I rest my arms across the distressed wood railing as I look out at the ocean. The moon's glow casts a silver sheen over the rolling waves, and the night sky is littered with thousands of glittering stars.

"I don't know. I think this view alone is pretty great," I whisper.

He laughs softly from behind me, "Yeah, it is." When I turn, his eyes are glued to me, and he has a familiar flirty smirk on his face. "Come on, let's get you inside," he adds as he opens the door.

Taking his hand, I let him guide me into the dark house, before he wanders off to find the lights. When the lights flick on around, I close the door behind me, and lock it before sliding the bag off my back and dropping it to the floor.

The light reveals a small, simple living space. It's an open floor area with a large kitchen and living room. An oversized black leather sectional couch sits in the sunken living room, complete with a huge flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. Cool gray tones paint the walls around the whole space. The kitchen is open, with white granite counters and black cupboards. It's cleaner than I expected for two guys living here.

Too clean.

"We don't stay here much," Sayshen adds as if hearing my thoughts. He opens the large stainless steel fridge. "There's not much to eat, but I can head to the shops in the morning, and stock up."

"It's fine," I reply. "You've already done plenty for me, Sayshen. Really. I'm okay."

He sighs and closes the fridge door. "No, you're not, Bex. But I don't expect you to be after everything you've been through," he adds softly. Turning his attention to me, he steps toward me. His tall frame standing before me makes me feel so small. The veins in his inked neck pulse. He's angry, but he's doing a good job hiding it.

"Just know you don't have to put up that front. Not anymore, okay? I'm here for it all, whatever you need from me." Feeling the weight of his words, I turn my eyes from him, but he quickly cups my face in his hands and forces my eyes back to him. "No. That's the only thing I won't let you do. You can't hide from me, Bex. Not anymore. You wanna cry? Scream? Then do it. I'll hold you through it all. Shit, if you want me to scream and cry with you, I will, but we do it together. Just tell me what you need."

My body stiffens. Suddenly, any doubt I had of Sayshen, having changed from the guy I knew in high school has completely faded. The way his eyes flicker back and forth between mine—searching, silently begging me to trust him—lets me know just how genuine he and his words are.

"A shower. Please," I mumble, holding his stare. His thumb brushes slowly across the cut on my swollen lip, sending a stinging pain across it. Tears form along my lash line. A natural reaction to the realization of just how real all of this is. I'll never hurt again. Christian can never hurt me again.

"Okay," he whispers. Pulling his hands from my face, he takes my hand in his and guides me through the house, flicking lights on along the way. I can't explain why, but I'm comforted by having my hand in his. After what just happened, you'd think I'd want to be alone, but that's the last thing I want. It's easier to cope with Sayshen here. To forget about my pain when someone else is near me. Reminding me that I'm okay. That I'm safe now.

Doing all the things that Christian never did.

Because Sayshen isn't Christian.

We pass through a long hallway with a huge Speed Demons logo painted across the wall like a mural. From what I've seen, it's the only color in the entire house.

When we reach the stairs, he leads me up them and stops at a small closet at the top. Opening the door, he pulls out some folded towels before closing it. He flicks on the bathroom lights and releases my hand as he starts up the shower. Hot steam quickly fills the room. The bathroom color matches the rest of the house, but it has more of a beachy feel to it. Framed art prints of starfish and corals hang along the walls, and the shower curtain is a powder blue color, with tiny white fish scattered around it.

"I'll be right downstairs if you need anything, okay?" he whispers as he starts to exit the room.

"No!" I snap. He stops and turns to face me with a concerned expression. "Stay. Please. I─I don't want to be alone, Sayshen," I admit. Saying it out loud makes it all seem so much more real. My heart hurts, and though I know I'm better off without Christian, I still feel like part of me inside is breaking. Tears begin to trail down my cheeks, and my body once again begins to tremble.

Sayshen nods and turns his back to me so I can undress. Unzipping the Demons hoodie Lena gave me, I hang it on the hook on the wall before undressing. Once done, I step into the shower stall. The steam billows around me, but it"s a relief on my cool clammy skin. I can hear Sayshen on the other side of the curtain, and though I find comfort in that, I find myself wanting more. I slide my hand out through the curtain in search of his. A silent plea for the comfort he provides me.

Within seconds, his warm hand covers mine. Our fingers intertwining as he softly squeezes, and that's all I need. I step under the cascading water. Welcoming it as it washes away any trace left of Christian on my body and my life. Taking it right down the drain.