Chapter 15 Vin #2
Our mouths clashed, hot and urgent, the kind of kiss that was a prelude to a reckoning—the kind that spoke of lost time and hunger unsated.
I tasted the road on her lips, the bite of whiskey and wild freedom.
Our bodies pressed together, hard against yielding, a dance as old as time played out on the creaking wooden stage of that bridge.
"Raven," I groaned against her neck, hands roaming, seeking the heat beneath her clothes, eager to reclaim every inch of her that fate had tried to steal from me.
"Vin," she gasped, and it was all the permission I needed. My name on her lips was a sacrament, a vow whispered in the dark.
The world narrowed to the space where our bodies met, the rhythm of our hearts syncing with the rush of the river below.
We moved together, two halves of a broken whole desperate to fit back together, to erase the jagged lines life had drawn between us.
And on that bridge, with the sun dipping low and the river singing its eternal song, we did more than cross—we set fire to the past, letting the flames consume all doubts.
We were resurrection and ruin intertwined, our love a force of nature that would endure beyond the fall of empires and the fading of stars.
Panting, our breaths mingled with the cooling air as we staggered back from the brink, both of us smeared with the evidence of our recklessness.
I leaned on the rail next to Raven, my hands still trembling from the ferocity that had seized us.
We stared out at the river, its current steady and unrelenting beneath us.
"Damn," I muttered under my breath, the word a prayer or a curse—I wasn't sure which. The river flowed like the blood in my veins, a reminder that life, much like water, didn't give a damn about the obstacles in its path; it simply went on.
Raven's shoulder brushed against mine, a silent acknowledgment of the chaos we'd just been through—the kind that either shatters souls or forges them stronger than before. Our gazes locked on the horizon where dusk was painting the sky in shades of fire and ash.
"Never thought I'd have this again," I said. "Another shot... with you."
She didn't turn to look at me, but I felt her lean in closer, her presence a balm to the raw edges inside me. "Vin," she started, her tone soft yet fierce, "you think I'd let hell or high water take you from me? Not a chance."
I chuckled, a low sound that rumbled deep in my chest. "You've always been the tough one, Raven."
"Someone's gotta be," she quipped, but there was a tenderness there that caught me off guard. She finally turned, eyes questioning. “We need to talk about my father, Vin. What’s going to happen once you find him?”
I felt my jaw clench, the afterglow of our passion quickly fading as reality came crashing back. Stansfield. The man who'd orchestrated my downfall, stolen years of my life, and nearly destroyed everything I held dear. My hands gripped the railing, knuckles turning white.
"When I find him," I growled, "I'm gonna make sure he understands exactly what it feels like to have everything taken away."
Raven's eyes flashed, a mix of concern and something darker. "Vin, I know what he did was unforgivable, but—"
"But nothing," I cut her off, my voice as hard as the steel beneath my fingers. "Your father's gonna pay for every second I lost. Every moment I couldn't be with you."
She reached out, her hand on my arm steady and warm. "I'm not asking you to forgive him. Hell, I haven't forgiven him myself. But I need to know you won't lose yourself in this vendetta."
I turned to face her fully, taking in the fierce determination in her eyes. This woman, who'd waited for me, fought for me, loved me despite everything , deserved the truth.
"I can't promise I won't cross lines, Raven," I said, my voice low and raw. "But I swear to you, I'll find my way back. Always."
She nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "That's all I need to hear," she said, her fingers tightening on my arm. "Just remember, we're in this together. Whatever happens with my father, whatever shitstorm comes our way, we face it side by side."
I pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. For a moment, we just stood there, the sound of the river below us and the wind rustling through the trees.
"You know," I said, breaking the silence, "your old man's gonna shit a brick when he sees me walking and breathing."
Raven let out a sharp laugh. "God, I almost wish I could see his face. The great Stansfield, realizing his perfect little plan went to hell."
I grinned a wolfish expression that probably looked more feral than friendly. "Oh, he'll see my face alright. Up close and personal."
We made our way back to the bike, the leather of my jacket creaking as I swung my leg over the seat. Raven climbed on behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist in a grip that was both possessive and comforting.
As I kicked the engine to life, the familiar rumble vibrating through us both, I felt a surge of something I hadn't experienced in years—hope, mixed with a healthy dose of vengeance.
"Where to?" Raven shouted over the roar of the bike.
I twisted the throttle. “Where ever the fuck we want.”