Chapter Thirty-One
THROTTLE KEPT TO himself, the kind of company that didn’t press or pry. He sat in a chair across from me, boots up on the table, eyes half on the TV. Some old action movie, gunfire and roaring engines, but he wasn’t really watching. He was there for one reason, to keep me safe.
I curled on the couch with a book open in my lap. The words wouldn’t stick. Every time I tried to follow the story, my mind drifted back to Ashen. To last night. To the way his arms had held me tight, his voice soft and rough in the dark, saying how much I meant to him.
A warmth spread in my chest that wasn’t just safety. It was dangerous, raw, the possibility of something I’d never let myself hope for after Venom.
The restlessness finally won. I closed the book. “Bathroom.”
Throttle gave me a quick glance, then back to the screen. “The one in the hall. I’ll be right here.”
The hall was quiet, lights low. My hand brushed the bathroom knob when a shape peeled out of the shadows.
Roxy.
Her smile was painted trouble, red against pale skin. “Well, look who finally crawled out from under her guard.”
My fingers tightened on the knob. I should’ve gone in, shut the door, locked her out. Instead, I froze.
She tilted her head, eyes dragging over me with practiced cruelty. “You really think you matter to him? Ashen’s charity case. The broken bird he strings along until she flies away.”
The words hit like barbed wire. I swallowed them down, silent.
Roxy stepped closer, her face twisted, her voice dipped in sugar and venom. “Didn’t tell you, did he? I’m pregnant with his baby.”
The floor fell out from under me.
Her grin widened at the crack in my face. “Oh, he didn’t. He’s happy about it, and everyone here knows. We’re just waiting for you to get strong enough before we make it official. Wouldn’t want to break the poor bird while she’s still healing.”
My chest seized, lungs refusing air. “No…” The word scraped raw.
“Yes.” Her laugh was a knife. “He’s been in my bed. And you? You’re just a warm-up until he gets tired of playing hero.”
Images tore through me, Ashen’s mouth on mine, his body wrapped around me, the way he’d said mine. They twisted, poisoned. If she was telling the truth, every promise had been a lie.
The glass bird burned in my pocket, suddenly heavy, mocking.
“Can’t even talk, can you?” Roxy smirked. “Pathetic. Did you really think a man like Ashen would stay satisfied with a strange woman like you? I mean you may be mute, but you’re not stupid.”
Her heels clicked loud as she walked away, the sound like a hammer in my skull.
I stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink hard enough to hurt. My reflection blurred with tears. My body shook, stomach heaving, breath scraping loud in the small space.
He knew.
The thought screamed. If he knew, then last night hadn’t been about me. It had been pity. A lie.
I ran.
Out of the bathroom, past Throttle’s voice calling my name, through the front doors. The storm hit me like a fist — cold rain slamming down, soaking me to the bone. My bare feet slapped wet dirt, hair plastering to my face, but I didn’t stop.
The rain drowned me, pounding so hard I couldn’t hear my own breath. Each drop felt like the truth Roxy had shoved in my chest, filling me up, breaking me apart.
I gave Ashen the only thing I had left. Myself. And now it felt stolen.
Destroyed.
“Wren!”
Throttle’s voice cut through the storm. Seconds later he was there, grabbing my arm, spinning me around. His hair was soaked, rain dripping down his face, eyes sharp with panic.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I tried to answer, but my throat closed. The sob ripped out instead, jagged and raw.
Throttle’s grip gentled, his voice dropping. “Hey. Whatever she said, don’t let her do this to you.” He didn’t have to name her. He knew.
I shook my head, the fight breaking out of me. My knees gave, but he caught me, steady as steel. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, hauling me against him.
I sagged into him, shaking too hard to hold myself up. His arm stayed locked around me, guiding me back inside.
The heat of the clubhouse hit like a slap after the rain. Elara was there before we crossed the room, Jewel right behind her.
“Wren!” Elara’s hands were already tugging at my soaked clothes, voice filled with concern. “She’ll freeze like this.”
Jewel stripped a blanket from the couch and wrapped it tight around me, her hands gentle against my trembling. “She’s ice-cold.”
Elara’s eyes snapped to Throttle. “What happened?”
His jaw tightened, the word spit like a curse. “Roxy.”
Elara’s face hardened. Jewel’s did too. Neither of them asked for details. They just closed in on me, one on each side, guiding me toward my room.
Between the two of them, I made it to the bed. They peeled away wet clothes, Elara finding a dry shirt, Jewel rubbing warmth back into my arms like she could drag me out of the cold.
When I finally collapsed, wrapped tight in blankets, the sobs slowed into silent tears. My skin was dry, but inside I was still drowning.
Ashen’s face filled my mind, his promises, his hands, his voice claiming me. Every memory turned sour, tasting like betrayal.
I curled smaller, clutching the blanket to my chest. The storm outside roared, but it wasn’t loud enough to cover the break inside me.