Chapter Nineteen
Remi
I wake with a start, my heart hammering so hard, it hurts. I realise the blindfold is gone and I’m lying on the bed, but the room’s dim, with shadows stretching long across the walls. For a second, I think I’m dreaming, until I see him.
Shadow stands at the foot of the bed, his shoulders hunched and his fists balled tight at his sides.
His eyes are dark, unreadable, and the sight of him like that makes every muscle in my body lock.
The smell hits next. It’s not his usual scent.
It’s whiskey. Thick. It clings to him, to the air between us.
My throat tightens, guilt crashing over me in waves. I did this. Whatever’s broken in him tonight, it’s my fault.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stands there, breathing slow, like he’s holding something back. The silence stretches so long, it hums in my ears.
I slowly sit and press my spine against the headboard. My pulse skitters as memories flash through my mind. Colin’s glare, his slurred words, the sharp sting of his temper. Being here, tied up, takes me right back to then.
“Logan,” I whisper, barely able to get the word out. “I mean, Shadow.”
His jaw ticks. He blinks once, slow, then drags a hand down his face, tension rippling through every line of him. “Don’t,” he rasps. “Don’t look at me like that.” The words come rough and low, and I still can’t breathe right until he finally takes a step back.
“If you don’t believe me, I can call him,” I whisper, my throat dry and tight. “The man I owe money to.”
His eyes narrow, dangerous and calm all at once. “You should be screaming in pain right now,” he mutters. “Tied to that chair. Black and blue.”
I swallow the panic clawing at my chest. “If that’s what you have to do, Shadow, do it. I’ve been through worse.”
His jaw ticks harder, the muscles in his arms flexing as he glances towards the window. “Maybe I should just put you back out there,” he mutters, like he’s thinking out loud. “That’s what you do when strays bite the hand that feeds them.”
“Fine,” I whisper. “Let me go, and I’ll never darken your doorstep again.”
“That’d be too easy,” he growls.
I let out a sharp, broken laugh. “So, what do you want to do, Shadow?” My voice cracks, rising with the tremor in my chest. “Break me? I’m already there.
” The words tear out of me, too fast, too raw.
“Because whatever happens, I can never catch a fucking break. So, beat me, pull off my fingernails, cut me, rape me, do whatever the fuck you want. And when you’ve had your fun, toss me back on the street like a dog.
It’s what I deserve.” Tears burn hot as I choke out the rest. “And when that guy finds me, he’ll finish the job.
Then you can sleep easy knowing I paid the price for trying to cross you and your club. ”
His breathing grows heavier. His fists clench tighter. One second, I’m on the edge of the bed, and the next, his hand is on my wrist and he hauls me up so fast, my breath stutters. His fingers dig into my upper arm hard enough to bruise, and the look on his face makes my stomach flip with fear.
“Don’t test me. And don’t try spinning this story to make you the victim.”
He slams me against the wall, his other hand braced beside my head. Close up, the whiskey on his breath stings my nose.
Everything about him right now is danger. “You stole from us, Remika,” he hisses. “You took our cut, and then you tried to take my money.” There’s no question in it, only accusation and a raw sort of hurt.
His shoulders shake like he’s fighting something behind his ribs. For a second, there’s a softness in his eyes that makes my chest seize. I think he’s going to fold. I think he’s going to pull me into him and hide me from everything.
But the club is louder than either of us.
“I can’t just let this slide,” he says. The Enforcer is back in place. Duty slides over whatever might have been between us like a blade. “Axel won’t tolerate it. I won’t tolerate it.”
“Fine,” I almost whisper. “Do your worst.”
He grabs the rope, hauling me closer. Then, I watch in confusion as he unties it, dropping it to the floor.
“You will stay here and work off what you owe. But you’re not mine, not anymore.
You don’t sleep in my room. You don’t talk to me unless it’s business.
I’m gonna talk to Axel, but there’s no guarantee he’ll agree to this, and even if he does and you pay the debt off, it doesn’t mean he’ll forgive and forget. ”
“I told you I’d ruin it,” I whisper, swiping a tear that rolls down my cheek. I rub my wrists where the rope dug into my skin. “When you say pay my debt off, do you mean . . .” I pause, glancing up at him through my lashes. “Yah know, like Sasha and the other girls?”
He heads for the door. “You’ll do whatever Axel wants you to do. It ain’t my call.”
“Will it clear my debt quicker?”
He meets my eyes, his jaw back to ticking as he clenches his teeth. “Probably.”
I nod, balling my hands into fists. “Then tell him I’ll do it.”
He gives a stiff nod before leaving, slamming the door hard.
I drop onto the bed and stare after him. Fuck. A part of me was testing the boundaries, seeing if he’d stop me. He didn’t.
We’re really over.
Shadow
I pause outside the room, lean against the wall, and drag a hand over my face. The thought of seeing her with my brothers is a punishment for us both. But maybe that’s what I need to move on.
I find Axel in his office, knock once, and step inside. “She’s in debt,” I tell him. “Says her mum owed a guy, and he’s passed it to her.”
Axel raises an eyebrow. “You believe that?”
I shrug. “Not sure yet.”
“So, what do you want to do?”
“Keep her here. Let her work it off. Bar, kitchen, cleaning, whatever needs doing.”
He studies me. “Whatever?” I nod. “And after?”
“After she pays, she leaves.”
Axel nods slowly, like he’s reading between every word. “You sure about that? You looked pretty gone on her.”
“We’re done,” I say, voice hard. “I don’t do liars or thieves.”
He smirks but doesn’t argue.
When I turn for the door, I see her standing just outside, eyes wide and red from crying. “Did I say you could leave the room?” I snap, anger hitting before I can stop it.
She flinches, lowering her head. “Sorry. I wanted to speak to Axel about how to pay the debt.”
I grab her arm, not hard but enough to make my point, and steer her back into the hall. “You go through me for that. You don’t speak to the President unless I say so. From now on, you stay where I tell you to stay. You are not a part of this club.”
She swallows hard, but there’s fire still in her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
That damn defiance twists something inside me. I shove a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “Go help behind the bar.”
She nods once and walks away without looking back. I watch her go, her head high, pretending she’s not breaking. I follow a second later, grabbing my half-drunk bottle from earlier, off the bar, then find an empty couch and drop down.
A shadow moves beside me. Sasha. She’s all gloss and perfume, sliding in close. “Still having a bad day?” she purrs.
I take a long drink. “Something like that.”
Her hand settles lightly on my knee. “Offer still stands, if you need to take your mind off things.”
I sigh, the sound rough. “Drink with me?” I hold the bottle out.
She grins, taking a pull straight from it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk,” she teases.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “It ain’t pretty.”
“Are you drinking to forget?” she asks, tilting her head towards the bar.
I follow her gaze. Remi’s there, shoulders stiff, pretending she doesn’t feel my eyes on her.
My jaw tightens. The ache in my chest flares into something meaner, something easier to manage. I rest a hand on the back of the couch, my thumb brushing the bare skin of Sasha’s shoulder. It’s calculated, deliberate.
Then Remi looks over. Our eyes lock, hers wide, hurt, questioning. And before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss Sasha.
It’s soft at first, an act, then harder, hungrier, cruel. A punishment neither of them deserves.
Sasha makes a pleased sound, her fingers curling into my shirt, but I barely feel it. All I see is the look on Remi’s face as she turns away, her smile slipping before she disappears out back.
Sasha pulls back first, smiling, lips still wet from the kiss. I keep my eyes closed for a second too long, hoping the dark will smother the guilt that’s already clawing up my chest.
“Guess you needed that,” Sasha says lightly.
“Yeah,” I mutter.
She stretches, preening a little before wandering off, pleased with herself.
I stare after her for a heartbeat then turn back towards the bar, and there she is.
Back behind the counter, with her sleeves rolled up and her hair twisted into a loose knot at her neck.
Her shoulders are squared, chin high, a small, dangerous smile playing on her lips.
The nervous girl from before is gone. This one looks like she’s decided she won’t let the world touch her again.
She laughs at something one of the prospects says, the sound light and careless. When she leans forward to grab a bottle, her posture is all deliberate challenge, open, confident, untouchable. A few men at that bar turn towards her like she’s gravity.
My jaw locks. She’s putting on a show. For me.
I take a long pull from the whiskey, pretending not to notice.
Then the door swings open, and Ragnor strolls in, loud, grinning, and right on time to fuck with my head, like this was planned. She senses it too, a smirk pulling at her mouth.
The second his eyes land on her, he whistles low. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite barmaid.”
She blushes. “Hey, Ragnor.”
He leans against the bar, easy and confident. “You’ve lost your shadow,” he says, laughing at his own joke.
She laughs too, bright and dangerous, and I can tell by his body language he’s delighted that she’s giving him the time of day.
“Oh that? It’s done,” she says, shrugging.