21. Ash

Chapter Twenty-One

ASH

“ W e meet again.”

I had known this was coming.

At first, I had thought Lamb’s stony silence had been aimed at me. I had noticed how he had kept his distance, lingering in the shadows hanging from the walls. Felt myself grow cold as his thoughtless touches and soft grazing fingers grew absent. Not even his eyes would reach mine. I had not seen the warmth of his brown eyes, nor the calculating computer ticking behind them since the moment I had roused from the effects of the sedative Mint had given me.

It was not until I had spotted the extra Angels amassing in the house that I realised that was not the case. With Mint’s new guard dog aura, his eyes tracking every movement Lamb made, watching him like a bomb ready to explode, I managed to piece together the truth.

The Black Angels had stepped in.

I strongly suspected that the Black Angels were fully aware of what Lamb had been up to. I had at least thought they knew I was in town, or that Lamb was being sketchy, but I had either underestimated their observational skills or Lamb’s ability to mask in front of his brothers.

The last thing I wanted was to be back on their radar; I was the equivalent of a walking time bomb, something we were all aware of. It made tensions high, relationships strained, and an all-around bad atmosphere. I was not oblivious to the damage I had already caused them, and the fact that the potential for more was vastly worse than anything that had happened so far made my relationship with the club inevitably sour.

“You’re just going to ignore me. Really?”

Mint sat wordlessly at my side, the bed threatening to suck me into his space as he weighed down the soft mattress in his direction. He was changing the bandage on my neck, forcing me to keep my head tilted up and away as he pulled off the adhesive tape. The wound had not been deep enough to cause too much damage, but the ten-fingered bruise over my throat was tender, and the ghost of his hand still lingered, physically and psychologically.

Mint carefully poked and prodded the skin, and I did my best not to react. In the past few days, the veteran’s sharp green eyes had grown keen to my tells. He could see through me well, and any hint of discomfort would make the wrinkles between his brows harden. I was wondering what it would mean for this country to have a second Grand Canyon … on someone’s face, no less.

“You seduced my brother with your wicked tricks and got him in trouble, and you’ve got nothing to say?”

I let out a long-suffering sigh, having heard enough of the mosquito buzzing in my ear. I rolled my eyes towards the man standing at the foot of the bed, heavily tattooed arms crossed tightly over his chest, a tight snarl warping his objectively handsome face. Not my cup of tea, but certainly many others.

“Kidnapped,” I corrected him. “I was kidnapped. ”

Jax scoffed. “Don’t look very kidnapped to me.”

“Despite the fact you are one of my armed guards yourself?” I retorted, using my own finger to point down towards the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

He moved his hand over the handle as if my arms might leap from my torso like a cartoon and steal the thing. At the least, after my death, my body would be whisked away to Area 51 , never to be seen again.

Jax returned my eye roll. “You had no trouble escaping up before. I highly doubt Lamb catching you was a lucky shot.”

His tattoos rippled over his taut muscles, having grown larger and more disciplined since I had seen him last. His dark, curly hair, however, had gotten shorter; cropped closer to his head, showing off more of that deeply tanned neckline, also laced with various inks swirling and shifting over his tightened throat.

If I had to compile a list of people who hated me the most, Jax’s name would not even make it into the top ten. But in a competition of being openly hostile, Jax would place bronze at least.

It was fair enough. I knew his reasons for hating me, and they were valid. That was why I could not bring myself to hate him like I did my other enemies.

“Glad to know you have no faith in your brother’s skills. I will let him know.”

“Don’t twist my words, witch,” Jax growled, having had enough and stalking out of the room. At least that was one less bodyguard to breathe down my neck. Speaking of … I glanced over to Mint who was finishing my dressing.

“You know, you could always let me go,” I threw.

“Tried that one already,” Mint interjected, not breaking his focus from his work. “Look where we are. I think you’re going to be stuck with us. For now, at least.” He applied the last of the tape and started packing away his array of medical tools back into his beastly first-aid box.

“Fabulous. I think we are going to need a bigger bed.” I glanced down at the queen-sized bed, running my hand over the silk sheets. “I doubt we will all fit in this one. Unless you want to go top-to-toe?”

Mint ignored me.

“Now would be a great time for a stiff drink,” I mumbled the comment under my breath, but it was not low enough. It earnt me a sharp glower, Mint’s ice-green eyes sending a shiver down my spine.

I was not completely out of the worst of it. The dizziness, headaches, and insomnia still had a stronghold. It was like someone had stuffed my mouth full of cotton wool, but that was not the worst part. I had a constant thirst, but neither water nor anything remotely virgin would satisfy it.

I looked down at the red sheets, my fingers pulling and tugging at the silky material, wanting to pick it apart seam by seam. Words toyed on my tongue, and questions bubbled in my throat, but only silence continued.

Mint closed the latches on his first-aid box, but instead of getting up and moving, he stayed where he was, waiting.

“I heard I am being brought to the club,” I managed, constructing my words carefully. My eyes remained pinned to the red fabric, anchored to my lap. “I do not think that is a good idea.”

“I bought you a bit of time so you can get over the worst of it,” Mint explained, his voice calm. “But it’s no longer safe to leave you here.”

“Because of Lamb?”

A voice cackled, and I spun to see Jax returning through the door. Mint cut him a seething glare, but the tattooed cowboy just shrugged, mouthing a petulant “ What?” back at his younger brother.

“No,” a different voice answered.

I looked away from Jax now, my eyes eating up the familiar figure leaning against the doorframe.

Lamb ran a hand through his blond, wet hair, slicking it back from his face. A tear of water slid down the sharp edge of his jaw, down his long, slender neck, soaking into the collar of his grey, unbuttoned Henley. Purpling skin mirrored my own, stretching wide around his throat, finger marks clear and distinct. “It’s not because of me.”

Mint frowned. “But—”

Lamb stalked into the room with purpose, stopping a mere foot away from the edge of the bed. From me.

I could smell him. It was woodsy and earthy, and surrounded me in a thick, tingling aura, sending hot shivers over my skin. Lured like a moth to a flame, my eyes found his face.

It had felt longer than a day since I had seen those eyes. As waves washed over the shore, a warmth began to beat out of my core. It grew in intensity, and I was shocked by their effect. My muscles relaxed, my lips parted, and my gaze softened. But worse of all, the pure, calming scent of him nearby blurred my protests.

Damn that Ivan Pavlov.

He reached forward, and I fought not to nuzzle into the feeling of his fingers as they found my jaw, skimming along the bone and down towards my neck. I did not flinch as his fingers feathered around the purpling bruises. It had barely been two days since his hand had wrapped around my throat and he’d held my life suspended in the balance, helpless to his whim. Though it seemed I was not the only one.

“Are you scared of me?” Lamb’s voice was softer than I had ever heard it before. His eyes bore into mine in a way that erased everyone else from the world, and only he and I stood in the bedroom, his question for me and my ears alone.

“No,” I breathed, the question leaving me not without thought, but without hesitation. “I am not scared of you.”

“Are you an idiot?” Mint’s voice jutted through my trance. “He nearly killed you.”

I shook my head, not leaving Lamb’s eyes that were simmering with warmth and calculation. Behind the cold, metal exterior, something had begun to move beneath the surface. Something new. Something different.

A soft sigh slipped from Lamb’s lips, his fingers parting from my skin, and my body grieved their absence. Cold seeped under where he had touched me, and I yearned for his warmth.

“You should be,” Lamb said, dropping his hand limply by his side. With that, he turned once again and vanished from the room, leaving both me and his two brothers bewildered by the abrupt interaction.

We stared for a long moment at the empty doorway, each of us having something to process.

“Never seen him like that before,” Jax grumbled, dark brows woven into a puzzled frown. He shuffled on his feet and readjusted his arms, as if comfort escaped him.

“You’ve known him longer than me, man.” Mint shrugged, shaking away his confusion as he stood from the bed, collecting his medical box.

“Yeah, but …” Jax’s mouth floundered, half words and half thoughts spinning in circles over his face and expression. “Lamb’s never really got things the same way we do.” Unlike other club members, Jax wore his emotions on his sleeve, and his face was often an easy read, except in moments like these, when neither he nor I knew what he was thinking.

“He’s not an idiot,” Mint grunted.

“Not like that.” Jax frowned, rubbing the sole of his shoe into the carpeted floor, receding into his mind. “I mean the emotional stuff.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “He gets it, but he’s never like got it got it, ya know?”

Mint frowned. “I don’t think I’m following.”

I know.

I had seen it. Not from when we had first met, but if you looked at him long enough, you could see it. A glimpse here and there. If the light struck right, or the conversation flowed the right way, you would notice something there, hiding. It was subtle at first, but once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it.

In those fractions of a second, where people had already reacted, spoken, and moved, he would hesitate. He would wait. Think. Then act. What was second nature to us, would be third or fourth to him. The behaviour we considered innate, to him, was learned.

The urge to defend and explain him caught in my throat. I did not want to admit what I knew. Doing so would confess far more about my interest in Lamb than I was willing to share. Knowing what others assumed to have just been a few days of watching each other, had, in fact, started a lot longer ago.

“Whatever.” Jax righted himself, stretching back to his full height. “Wolf can explain it better. They’ve been together since their prospecting days.”

“No shit?” Mint said.

“Apparently, they’ve been like Tom and Jerry since they met.” Jax chuckled. “I’d loved to have seen them prospecting together; doing shit jobs, following everyone’s demand, taking whatever crap was handed to them.”

“You’d have to watch it in black and white,” Mint scoffed. “They’ve been around longer than the dirt on your shoes.”

Jax flexed his hand, waggling his fingers along with his mouth. “Ten … Fifteen … Got to be something like twenty years ago.”

“ Twenty years ?” Mint gaped, mirroring my own surprise. “I get Wolf, but Lamb isn’t that old.”

“He was young when he started.” Jax shrugged. “Not sure how old, though.”

“Seventeen,” Lamb’s voice cut through, reappearing in the doorway. “Now if you’re done gossiping, let’s go. I’ve got a curfew.”

With his words, I once again became aware of the weight pressing on my shoulders. It anchored my belly to the bed, and I glanced towards the window. The lopsided curtain shifted in the breeze, slipping through the open crack, cold air chilling my skin. I saw the sun hanging lower in the sky, painting the soft clouds a hazy gold. A beautiful autumn evening was emerging.

“Let’s hit the road.” Jax all but skipped towards the door.

Mint put aside his first-aid box and fished a set of keys from his back pocket. “I’ll drive cage,” he said as he offered his hand to me. His hands were calloused and large, and though I was not used to receiving help, I had learnt that it was easier to take it than to fight it. Especially Mint. He was stubborn.

My efforts were thwarted as a different hand wrapped around mine. It was long and slender, wrapping in a firm cuff around my wrist. “She’ll ride with me.” Lamb’s voice was calm but cutting. It left no room for argument, and Mint’s hand lingered hesitantly in the air.

Pale green eyes looked down at my arm and Lamb’s hand wearily before looking back towards him. “But Prez said—”

“ She will ride with me ,” Lamb repeated.

Jax glanced between his two fellow brothers. His gaze hung on Lamb, that familiar frown reappearing in the wrinkles on his brow, flickering down to the deepening bruises on his neck before returning to his vice president’s face. Something flashed across Jax’s face, breaking that expression for a moment, but it was quickly buried. Whatever Jax had seen, he was unhappy about it; that much I could tell. I wanted to ask, but something stronger than curiosity pressed my lips tight. Something moving between the two men’s expressions warned me not to ask. That it was finished business.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jax sighed, stalking through the room and grabbing Mint by the scuff of his shirt, towing the stocky man towards the door with more ease than he should be able to. “It doesn’t matter; let’s go.”

“Don’t manhandle me, asshole!” Mint growled, shaking free of Jax’s grasp.

“Then move your feet,” Jax retorted, both barging into the hallway. “I ain’t getting my ass kicked if we’re late because of you. It’s too pretty an ass. Ronnie says so all the time.”

Argument riled up in Mint’s throat, along with the rising red of his cheeks, but the two barrelled down the hallway before I could make out any more words. Instead, just noise followed in their wake, quickly growing distant.

I stared back down at the hot burn on my wrist. Goosebumps prickled along my arm, but I was warm where he touched. I stared up at him, his head facing towards the doorway. I gave my arm a short tug, just enough to draw his attention back.

Brown eyes flickered over my face and across my body. After a moment to process the information, Lamb’s fingers loosened, dropping his hold, and my heart deflated. Instead, they slid up to my palm, pushing open my hand and slipping his fingers between mine, and my stupid heart thumped.

“Shall we?”

I frowned at the affectionate gesture. “You are being rather polite …” I spoke. “For a kidnapper, that is.”

“I think we’re mutually trapped now.” Lamb shrugged, his eyes mischievous and amused.

“You should have just left me alone,” I sighed. “Then we would not be in this mess.”

Lamb shook his head. “I’ve been in this mess for a long time. I’m just not alone anymore.”

I opened my mouth. And then I closed it. I could not formulate a thought to process that statement, nor its implication, never mind respond to it.

I chose not to, in the end, taking the quiet moment to shakily stand. I felt weak, and the soles of my feet were tingly and tender. Balance was delicate, but Lamb waited patiently for me to find my footing before he guided me along. He matched my pace but didn’t support or help me, allowing me to figure it out myself.

He was quiet the whole way down, and so was I.

We might be in this together, but it didn’t change the reality.

Today, we were heading to our new hell.

One I had vowed never to return to.