Chapter Twenty-Two
Remi
The church smells like dust and old wood polish, exactly how it was a few months ago when I came here.
I wasn’t going to come, it’s an hours long trip each way, and I don’t want to be recognised.
But it’s the closest place that will feed me for free, and I am so hungry, I feel like my insides are splitting.
People queue quietly, with their heads down, avoiding eye contact. I blend in better than I ever have, hood up, hands stuffed into my pockets. We all smell of desperation here, no one standing out against anyone else.
When I finally reach the table, I grab a tin of soup and two packets of noodles. Something light. Something that won’t draw attention.
“Need a bag?” a voice asks. It’s warm, familiar, like smoke and gravel and gentleness.
I freeze.
Slowly, I lift my head.
Kade stands behind the table in his black shirt with the little white collar, his kutte draped over the back of the pew behind him, his hair tied back.
His gaze skims over my face, and he goes still. I quickly duck my head back down, pissed at myself for getting seen.
“Remi?”
My throat closes. I swallow, but it barely works. “Hey.”
He doesn’t say anything at first, but I feel the heat of his gaze. And I know he saw . . . how could he not? The dark bruise blooming across my cheekbone. The split in my lip. The faint marks on my throat.
I risk another glance, hardly lifting my chin as I peek from under my hood. “Bag,” I almost whisper, reminding him.
His jaw tightens, but his voice stays soft like he’s scared I’ll bolt. “Why are you here?”
I almost lie. Habit. Survival. Shame. But the words fall out before I can stop them. “I needed food.”
Kade nods once. He takes the tin and noodles gently from my hands and places them into a paper bag. Slow movements, no sudden shifts, like I’m a stray dog he doesn’t want to frighten. He passes the bag to me, but he doesn’t let go.
“Are you safe, Remi?”
My lip trembles. I shake my head, because it’s obvious I’m not. And Kade . . . he gets me. He doesn’t judge, and right now, the urge to see a friendly face is overwhelming. Maybe that’s why I’m here. Deep down, I needed a friend.
His jaw clenches tighter before he releases the bag. “Did he do that?” And then his finger carefully slips under my chin, lifting my face to his. “Shit, Remi,” he murmurs, wincing as he takes in my bruises.
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
“We both know that’s not true. I can help you.”
I close my eyes briefly, a lone tear slipping out.
I want to say yes, to grab him with both hands and beg him for help.
But Colin will never let me go, especially now he’s cleared both my debts.
One to the club, and my mother’s. I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to his offer. This is my life now.
I hold the bag against my chest and force a weak smile.
His hand drops to his side, like he already knows what I’m about to say.
Before I can open my mouth, he nudges a young girl beside him.
“Will you be okay if I just step away a minute?” She nods, smiling as he grabs his kutte and steps around the counter.
“Let’s get a coffee,” he says to me. “Just a quick one.
" I hesitate, and he sighs. “Please, Remi.”
I take a seat away from the hustle of the food pantry, and Kade grabs two Styrofoam cups with coffee and joins me. I wrap my hands around my cup, absorbing the heat.
“How can I help?”
It’s such a huge question that I don’t immediately answer. Then I offer smile. Small. Sad. “You can’t keep saving me,” I say, my tone light.
“It’s what I do,” he says, winking. “But seriously, what can I do?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I just—”
“Fell into a door?”
I feel my shoulders slump. It’s the excuse my mum would tell the neighbours, and I hated that lie most of all.
“No,” I reply honestly. “I took a kicking from a grown arse man who makes me sick to my stomach, and I laid on the floor while he kicked me, punched me, spat at me. And I didn’t answer back.
I took it.” The words leave a bitter taste on my tongue and tears fill my eyes.
“And I’m angry,” I add, clenching my fists around the cup, “because it’s what she used to do, and I would scream at her to get up, to leave, to stop being a fucking doormat.
” I yell the last words. I take a shaky breath, glancing round.
No one has noticed . . . or they just don’t care.
“I never understood why she didn’t leave, until now.
And I know it’s different because she stayed for love, but it still results in the same thing. I’m weak. Just like her.”
He reaches over the table and takes my hand. “You’re not weak, Remi. She stayed for love. You’re staying for survival . . . and you’re scared.”
I snatch my hand back. “I’m not scared,” I snap.
“It’s okay,” he reassures me. “You can be scared. It doesn’t make you weak. You’re doing what you need to, to survive. But I can help you.”
“You can’t. I got myself into this mess.”
“You’re drowning, and going back to where it all began isn’t going to help.”
“I don’t have anywhere else,” I choke.
“If I told Shadow—”
I stand abruptly, cutting him off. “No.” I grab the paper bag.
“Okay,” he says quickly. “No Shadow. I got it.”
I give a slight nod and lower into my seat. The ache in my chest feels like it’s splitting open. “Is he . . . is Shadow okay?”
“I haven’t seen him,” he says. “He’s keeping his head down. Riding a lot.” He waits a minute before adding, “I know you think he hates you. He doesn’t.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and fiddle with my cup. “It doesn’t matter now. I broke his trust. I deserve what’s happening. He’s better off without me. I told him that from the start.”
“If you won’t let me help, will you at least stick around for soup?” he asks. “It’s creamy chicken,” he adds with a smile.
I exhale, and my stomach growls. We both laugh, breaking the tension. “Okay.”
Shadow
My phone buzzes against the bar, dragging me out of whatever half-thought I was lost in.
Missed call from Ragnor, followed by a text message.
Ragnor: Call me.
Great. Just what I need, another fight.
I swipe to call him back, jaw already tight with stress. He answers on the first ring.
“Brother,” he breathes, like he’s worried.
My spine straightens. “What?”
“I just had Kade on the phone. Remi’s turned up at the church. She’s in a bad way.” Silence stretches as I stare hard at the wall, my heart slamming in my chest. “He asked if I can help her. I’m heading there now, but I don’t need the argument with you, brother, so I’m telling you out of courtesy.”
My grip tightens on the phone, my knuckles turning white. If Kade called Ragnor, it’s because she doesn’t want me there. But since when did I ever listen to what she wanted?
I grab my kutte off the chair.
“I’m five minutes away,” he adds. “See you there.”
The bike roars to life under me, vibrating through bone and blood, and I take off, letting the cold air slap me in the face. The city lights blur, and all I can see is her face as she left, the rain soaking her to the skin, her eyes full of pain.
At least with him, I know what to expect. Her words are burnt into my brain, playing on repeat constantly. I swallow the bile burning up my throat. I have to fix this.
I pull up to the church and kill the engine. My boots hit the pavement, my heart still beating wildly as I walk through the large iron gates and up the path. The heavy door is half-open, and I step inside.
I spot Ragnor first. His back is to me, but he’s rigid, like he’s pissed about something. As I move closer, I see Kade. His eyes land on me and he groans, pushing to his feet. “Brother, I didn’t call you for a reason.” He blocks my path.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
Ragnor places a hand on Kade’s shoulder. “I called him. You know I had to.”
“Move,” I say, my tone threatening. “I don’t wanna hurt a brother in his own church.”
“It’s okay.” We all still at the sound of Remi’s voice.
It’s soft, broken. Kade steps to one side, and my eyes land on her.
I inhale sharply, everything around me blurring away until all I focus on is her face.
Her bruised, battered face. A purple bruise across her cheekbone.
A split lip. Faint finger marks around her throat.
My vision tunnels, and something inside me goes very, very quiet. Not angry. Deadly.
My chest heaves with rage as we stare at one another. And then . . . she grabs a paper bag off the table and moves past me, heading for the exit.
I frown, watching as she scurries out the door. Kade groans again. “She asked me not to call you.”
I shove past him and head after her. “You didn’t,” I call over my shoulder.
I break out into the night, just as she’s going through the gate, and I run after her. “Remi,” I call.
“Leave me alone,” she calls back.
“Just wait . . . at least talk to me.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
I run the last few steps, catching up and walking beside her. “You’re hurt,” I state.
“Physical bruises heal,” she says, adding, “It’s the emotional ones that take longer.”
“He did this . . . Colin?”
“Does it matter?” she snaps impatiently. “Why are you here, Shadow?”
I take her arm, and she flinches, making me release her instantly and pull back.
We slow to a stop, and she gives an apologetic smile, like she’s in the wrong.
I hate that. I carefully take her arm again, this time placing her hand in mine and gently pushing her sleeve up.
She watches, the silence stretching as more bruises appear.
“I’m gonna kill him,” I mutter, rage burning through me.
“I’m gonna rip his fingers off one by one. ”
“No,” she says firmly, pulling her arm from me and pushing her sleeve back down. “It’s not what I want. Please stop following me or I’ll call the police.”
“Good, get them here, so you can explain your bruises to them.”
She eyes me with contempt. “I won’t say a word, and what do you think they’ll assume? You here . . . following me when I’ve asked you to stop.”
A punch to the sternum would hurt less. I give a stiff nod. “Okay. Have it your way.” I step back.
For a second, I think she’s going to break, to beg me not to walk away. But she’s too stubborn. She squares her shoulders, spins on her heel, and marches off.