Chapter 1 #3
My stupid heart hadn’t caught up to the fact I didn’t even know who Rowan was anymore.
Hell, maybe I’d never known him, not really.
Yet there I was, still drawn to him like he was the light in a storm, even though we hadn’t even locked eyes, let alone spoken a single word.
His presence lingered like a ghost—haunting and always just out of reach. I hated it.
So, I had to hide myself before he found me lingering.
My heavy footsteps echoed on the concrete path as I rushed back towards the side door. I reached out for the handle, but the moment my foot hit the bottom step, a sharp, gravelly voice had my spine straightening.
“Well, well . . . look what we have here.”
I dropped my arm to my side, my shoulders reaching for my ears as I whipped around.
The man was closer than I’d originally thought, and much more intimidating.
His broad frame was practically hanging over the fence, while a beer bottle dangled lazily between his fingers, his greasy hair clinging to his forehead.
I caught the faint reek of sweat and smoke, and something metallic underneath.
“Can I help you?” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
My unease came out with a touch of venom—a coping mechanism I had accumulated.
He tilted his head, dragging his gaze down my body with a slow, arrogant smirk. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly conscious of the thin cotton tank top and pyjama shorts I was wearing. They barely covered my arse, and I silently cursed myself for forgetting what kind of place this was.
“Well,” he said, leaning closer, his smirk widening to reveal crooked, but white teeth. “Why don’t you come into the light so I can get a better look at you?” His voice lowered to a slithering drawl.
No thanks. I’d rather bleach my eyeballs.
Or better yet, bleach his. Most women would have found him somewhat attractive.
I might have been one of them, if I hadn’t met his type a thousand times over.
He was exactly my flavour of mistake—cocky charm bred with arsehole intentions, all wrapped into one.
I knew better now. Or, at least, I should have.
I held his gaze for a moment, refusing to give an inch. He thought he knew me, the same way his type of man always did. Thought he could reel me in with a few one liners, tell me whatever lies I wanted to hear, then gut me right where I stood .
“I’d rather not.” I didn’t move a muscle, just stood there waiting for him to grow tired of whatever this game was he was playing.
He pouted, like that was going to do anything but make me want to slap it off his face. “You’re no fun.” He nodded to the side door. “How about I come over there, then? You can tell me why I’ve never seen you around here before.”
I almost laughed at his attempt to toy with me. Surely the idiot knew who my father was. And that the old man wouldn’t lift a finger. That he’d let anyone from the Ridge Riders do whatever the hell they wanted without so much as a spoken objection. Which meant, I had to watch my mouth.
A patch like that gave him free rein in this town, and Dad was just another coward falling over himself to stay out of his way.
One look at this bloke, with his score-settling, fist-swinging vibe, and I’d known he could beat me to within an inch of my life.
And, my bet was, my father would still have made me the villain, blamed me for provoking him. For existing.
I didn’t want to find out if that would be the case, though, so I gave him the most forced smile I could muster, the kind of smile that said nice try, arsehole. Then I casually turned my back on him, even though my heart was almost launching itself out of my throat.
“I’m not done with you,” he growled out, his tone sharper, void of that oily charm he was pretending to exude. “Did you hear me, bitch?”
Bitch?
I spun around, heat surging through my body.
The urge to laugh bubbled away in my chest. One arrogant word had pushed me right over the edge, and I was ready to confront the prick, even knowing exactly the kind of guy he was.
I’d stabbed one. I could manage one more.
I didn’t care how much larger this one was.
At least that’s what I told myself as I stepped closer, hands balled into fists at my sides. “Who the hell?—”
“Snake.” A deep voice interrupted, cutting clear through the air like nothing else ever could.
It broke through years of silence, through walls I didn’t even know I’d built. It cut me off. Brought me to a full stop.
Rowan.
In the flesh. He stood a couple metres behind Snake, his silhouette backlit by the orange glow of the fire pit crackling behind him.
All forms of common sense evaporated, and I clamped my mouth shut.
The only words forming on my tongue were jumbled and incoherent.
Even from my dark side of the stand-off, his eyes locked on mine for the first time in six years.
Shadows hid his face, but his focus was as intense as I remembered it. Everything else faded, the world reduced to nothing more than muffled background noise and static.
A flush crept over me, heat crawling from my stomach to my throat like guilt. I couldn’t escape him. Rowan Knight. The boy—or should I say, man—I had been obsessed with for most of my life was now staring at me like I was both a thorn in his side and a ghost he couldn’t quite believe was real.
My pulse quickened, a mess of emotions pulling me under. I hated how easily he could make me feel like I was drowning on dry land.
But there was something else there, too. A sadness I knew all too well. I carried it with me wherever I went, a permanent shadow that refused to let me breathe.
Did he carry it too? All those years, and I never let go of a single ghost.
Snake glanced over his shoulder, taking his sweet time like he was in a slow-motion movie, then stood to his full height. He wasn’t quite as tall as Rowan, but he was wider—that’s for sure.
“VP. What can I do for you?”
“Leave her alone,” Rowan said, flicking a lighter and holding the flame to the end of a cigarette. “She’s off limits.” He still hadn’t kicked that bad habit. Not that it was any of my business.
Snake snorted out a laugh, the sound grating against the inside of my skull. “Is that so?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he glanced back at me. “She yours or something?”
Rowan stepped closer, a cloud of smoke curling out from his lips. I swallowed hard. Even in the dim light, he looked the same, but also completely different. A little older. A little wearier, like the world knew exactly how to push him around.
My throat closed up, almost strangling what little air I still had in my lungs. My mouth refused to move. But what would I have said?
Hi Rowan, how have you been since I disappeared the day after we found your brother hanging from his ceiling? Sorry. How’s life been treating you?
Rowan sniffed, and finally pulled his gaze from mine, a small muscle in his jaw ticking.
“She’s no-one. Just my brother’s best friend from back in high school.
” His voice was flat. Casual. Like it meant nothing.
And his words hit me like a punch to the gut.
His gaze flicked to me again—just a breath of softness—then snapped back to Snake.
“Besides,” he said, “she’s the chief’s daughter.
You really want to deal with that? Probably a little too much for you to handle, don’t you think?
You like them cheap and easy. This one is neither of those things. ”
No-one? Just his brother’s best friend ?
I wrapped my arms around my middle, holding in the pain of those words mingling with the dull ache of my bruised ribs.
I couldn’t let it go, even as the two men spoke about me as if I wasn’t standing right in front of them.
They stung more than I should have let them.
But this was Rowan. A man I had naively thought would one day see me as more than his brother’s best friend.
Snake dragged his gaze down my body once again as though I was a specimen under a microscope, something to be studied and dissected. “I’m not scared of a little challenge.” His scrutiny stripped me of what little dignity I had left. “I like them feisty.”
“Wow,” I said, a small hollow laugh, devoid of any real emotion, escaping from my chest. “I can hear you, arsehole. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have anywhere else to be.”
My tears grew hot and thick, and I couldn’t let Rowan see how much he affected me.
I yanked open the screen door, darted inside, and slammed it shut.
Then I locked it like that could keep Rowan Knight from living rent-free inside my head.
The door rattled as I pressed my shoulder into it, and I bit my lip until it hurt.
I should have known better.
He was the only person who could save me and make me feel as though I wasn’t worth saving all at the same time.
With my back against the worn wood, I sucked in breath after breath, but it was like breathing in poison. Anger and shame fought each other for the upper hand. I didn’t know why I let him get under my skin. An old habit, I guess.
The faint sound of Rowan’s voice, low and steady, made its way through the thin walls.
Or maybe I only imagined it. The words were too quiet to actually hear their meaning. It didn’t matter .
I felt it—the same old pull in my chest, the ache I could never quite kill, and beneath it all, the stupid hope I thought had finally died.