Chapter 12 Bree
Pity. That was the look Raven gave me when I admitted what Chronos had done. Raven’s jaw locked, and the anger he felt was evident. I could handle rage. Sympathy. Compassion.
But pity? Never.
Revulsion and self-loathing rose hard and fast, threatening to overwhelm and suffocate me, dragging me back down into the pit I recently clawed out of, busting through that barrier I finally managed to erect between me and those awful nightmares.
No man would want me now, not after knowing what had been done to me. Used goods. How those words sliced into my soul. Seeing Raven’s pity made it all worse somehow.
Raven rescued me when I thought my whole world was shattered. He interrupted the assault that almost led to another violation by those disgusting Dirty Death MC members.
I nearly lost all hope of being found until he burst into the room. A savage dark angel who avenged me with bloodthirsty violence. He soaked the room in their blood and carried me away from the carnage.
And then those words he whispered in my ear, promising everyone who harmed me would pay, muttering all the ways he intended to watch them suffer until they died for their crimes.
Would he always think of me that way? The ruined girl he found on the bed, two vicious bikers trying to strip her down and take what they wanted without her consent?
Or the shattered, trembling woman he held in his arms, her blood soaking into his t-shirt from the wounds she’d gotten as she fought off her attackers?
Would he stare at me with that pity, unable to separate who I was from the victim that had been so cruelly traumatized?
Thinking about all of it brought the memories flooding back.
I refused to cry anymore. I’d done that for a solid week already, and tears solved nothing.
I wasn’t stupid. The recovery process would take time, and I understood it wouldn’t be easy.
I just didn’t expect to have such a wide range of emotions to sort through at any given moment.
It was too much.
And the pity on top of it? No, that was the one thing I couldn’t stand.
I needed something to do to occupy my time and stop wallowing in all the bad shit done to me. Maybe if I didn’t act like a victim, I could stop believing I was one.
For the next half hour, I wandered the bare bones of The Roost, noting the clubhouse was primarily empty.
I only saw a handful of bikers, and several wore patches labeled PROSPECT on their leather vests.
A few nodded or smiled, but no one avoided my direct gaze.
Did they know what I suffered? That I was Bella’s sister?
Did they care that I wasn’t some used-up piece of ass, taken against my will?
I finally ended up in a massive industrial-sized kitchen with stainless steel appliances, dark wooden cabinets, and granite countertops with plenty of space to work.
No one was around. Someone must have cleaned up recently because I didn’t see any dishes in the double sink or drying on a rack.
No pots or pans. Only small appliances sat visible.
When my Gram was still alive, one of the things I enjoyed most was baking in her kitchen. We’d create all kinds of desserts and homemade loaves of bread. Thinking of Gram conjured the first genuine smile I’d had since being rescued.
She used to rub her nose with mine and say, “Baking is easy. All it takes is a cup of patience, an ounce of love, and a sprinkle of goodwill.”
Yes. That was what I needed—a bake-off.
Getting to work, I began pulling out mixing bowls and supplies. Within minutes, I had the oven pre-heated, and the first batch of cookie dough chilling in the fridge before I started dropping it onto the sheets for baking.
“Who are you, girlie?” A gruff old voice called out, startling me to the point that I dropped the sugar in my hand, and the bag landed with a thump on the countertop.
With a gasp, I spun around, staring at the older adult rolling up to me in a wheelchair.
He gave me a once over and cursed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. You must be Bella’s sister. I remember seeing the picture she put up at the bar of the two of you.”
Blinking, I took a couple of seconds to process his identity, and then it clicked. Her employer at Bull’s Saloon. “Lucky Lou.”
He dipped his chin. “The one and only. Nice to meet ya.”
My shoulders relaxed as I realized he wasn’t a threat, not that I thought he was to begin with, but I spooked easily since the kidnapping. “I’m happy I finally got to see you.”
He chuckled. “Bella been talkin’ me up good?”
“Of course!”
“She’s too good to me.” His eyes twinkled, and I could tell he thought highly of my sister.
I should have met him before now. The invitation had been extended plenty of times, but I wasn’t interested in the wild party or biker scene, so I always declined.
Bella had worked -at Bull’s Saloon part-time for nearly a year.
To think I could have gone to The Roost and seen Raven all this time upset me.
Would things have turned out differently if we’d met sooner?
I didn’t have the answer to that and never would.
“Do you like sweets?”
He chuckled. “Now you’re talkin’ my love language.”
I couldn’t help a giggle. “Then I’m putting you to work.”
“About time someone used my talents.”
I spent the whole afternoon with Lou, and it was one of the best days I’d had in years, including the months leading up to my kidnapping.
He didn’t ask why I never visited before today or what brought me here. That meant a lot. Lou could have pried into my life, but he just kept smiling, enjoying the time as much as I did.
When he finished his second cinnamon roll, he patted his stomach. “Thank you, Bree. Okay if I call you that?”
“Absolutely, Lou.”
He reached over and patted my hand as we sat at the table, nibbling on our finished treats. “You got a smile as bright as the sun. Don’t every let anyone take it away from ya, honey. No person deserves to have that power over you.”
Blinking, I didn’t know how to respond.
“Gonna take a nap now. My eyes are droopin’.”
“Sweet dreams,” I finally replied as he rolled away from the table. “I hope you’ll bake with me again soon.”
“Oh, no worries. We will, Bree.”
I HAD GOOD DAYS AND bad ones.
That was how I categorized each of them, embracing the ones that brought positive thoughts and experiences and pushing away the negative.
A simple system that helped bring healing, even if it was only a little at a time.
Baking with Lou? A wonderful day.
My sister walked in as I munched on a cinnamon roll, her eyes widening. “You baked.”
“Yep. Want one?”
She nodded eagerly, sitting next to me and grabbing a roll. She bit into it with a moan. “Oh, wow. These are almost better than Gram’s.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, but they’re pretty good.”
“No way,” she argued. “These are restaurant-worthy.”
“You truly think so?” I asked, trying not to appear too invested in her answer.
“Totally. You’ve always been a great cook, but the way you bake? It’s to die for.”
Hmmm. Maybe I should think about culinary school.
“You should open your own catering business.”
Or that.
“I’ll think about it.”
“If you want any guidance or just someone to talk to about it, I’d be happy to give some advice or help.”
With her success in her jewelry business, it was smart.
“I will,” I promised.
She cleared her throat, and I knew what was coming. “I’m not going to ask you to tell me everything that happened. I know it’s awful.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “But, I’m here for you, Bree. I’m always here, and when you feel like you’re ready—”
“He raped me, Bel. Multiple times.”
She froze, horror dominating her expression before she burst into tears. Bella left her seat, crashing into me, hugging me so close that I couldn’t prevent the tide I’d held back from unleashing.
Sobbing, I howled, cried, and blubbered through the worst of what had been done, describing it in detail because I didn’t want to hold onto it anymore. It was eating me up inside.
She held me, rocking us as I realized we’d somehow landed on the floor. As the minutes ticked by, my tears slowly ceased. Soon, I was sniffling, feeling empty but so much lighter.
Bella’s hand smoothed my hair out of my face as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “You’re so strong and brave. You’re my hero, Bree.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’ve always gone after what you wanted, and you’re so successful. Not to mention, brilliant.”
Wow. It meant so much to hear that.
“So when I say what happened doesn’t define you, I mean it. I know it was a horrible experience, but you’re so much more than what was done to you. You’re my big sister. To me, you’re Wonder Woman.”
“Bel,” I cried, hugging her again, touched by her words. “Thank you.”
“Always, sis.”
She cleared her throat, swiping under her cheeks.
“Is there something you want to ask me?”
“Yeah. How did you manage to smuggle that USB drive?”
“Easy. They never searched my clothes. Maybe if they did, they would have found the pocket of my bra where I shoved the flash drive. It ended up sliding down in the cup or it probably would have fallen out.” I shrugged. “Whatever is on it, I hope they nail Mayor Goodman to a coffin with it.”
Bella’s expression hardened. “Me too. I want to see his ass handcuffed, thrown in jail, and made someone’s bitch for fucking with my sister.”
Smirking, I thought her reaction was adorable. “That’s why I love you.”
AFTER I RETURNED TO my room, washing my face free of tears, I sat on my bed, staring at the phone in my hand. It was a replacement. Grudge and Chronos confiscated the original, smashing it to pieces in front of me.
An intimidation tactic, but also to ensure nothing on it would be circulated or become evidence against them. They didn’t know I sent it all to Callie the same night before we left work.
Assholes.
As a result, I’d lost the numbers for Callie and Agent Phillips. There was no way to contact them.
Or was there?
My hand lightly smacked my forehead. Facebook. Callie’s number was in her contact info. Even if she took it down, I could still log into my account and send her a message.
Why didn’t I think of that sooner? I’d been wondering if she was okay.
It only took a minute to find her number and send her a text from my new cell. I wondered how long it would take for her to check her messages.
Not long.
A few heartbeats later, she replied, asking if she could call me.
I beat her to it, dialing her number.
“Oh my God, Bree! Are you okay? Why haven’t you contacted me? I’ve been worried sick!”
“It’s a long story,” I sighed. “My phone got stolen.”
Not a lie, but not the whole truth.
“Oh, shit!”
Yeah. “I know, right?”
“I still have it all. It’s saved on mine, but I also downloaded everything onto my laptop as a backup.”
“Good. Did you give it to Agent Phillips?”
She burst into tears, legit bawling into the phone. “No! He’s gone, Bree. He’s missing. No one knows where he is, and they can’t get ahold of him.”
“Well, fuck,” I cussed, frustrated.
“Exactly. I hope he’s okay.”
Probably not. If the Dirty Death MC found him, he was dead or close to it.
“Listen, things have gotten a lot more complicated. We need to meet up soon. It’s too risky to talk over the phone.”
“Okay. Text me the time and place. I’ll be there.”
Whew. Relieved she was still on board, I nodded, even if she couldn’t see me do it. “I’ll be in touch. Be careful.”
“I will. You too, Bree.”
She ended the call, and I flopped back against the bed.
The missing FBI agent added a whole new twist to this disaster. I hoped he contacted Callie soon, or I had a feeling things would escalate.