Chapter 25
LARK
Remy pulls off his helmet and shakes out his inky hair. “I had an amazing evening with you, love.”
I pull off my own helmet and dismount, turning to face him. He was sweet enough to ride back to my apartment with me after the meet, wanting to make sure I got home okay. So here we are, in the parking lot of my kind of run-down apartment building.
I’m trying not to feel too embarrassed about where I live. I worked my ass off for this place, and I’m proud of how well I’ve rebuilt my life in a matter of months.
But, still, Remy and the guys come from wealth and are obviously doing very well for themselves. I’m sure he notices how my complex has seen better days. If he does, he doesn’t comment on it.
I try in vain to tame all the flyaway hairs that have escaped my braids, wanting to look presentable for him. “I had an awesome night with you too. Thanks for taking me to the stunt meet and letting me use your bike to learn to wheelie. Sorry about the scratches, though.”
After I agreed to learn how to wheelie, Remy walked me around the meet for a while longer so we could check out the various stunters. There were so many crazy talented people there doing super impressive tricks with their bikes.
I loved watching all of it.
When the meet started clearing out a little, Remy taught me the basics of clutch ups on sport bikes before letting me try it on his bike.
He convinced me to use his bike because he already has spare fairings.
Which is a good thing because I fell twice.
But I managed to get the wheel up on my third attempt.
With how loud Remy cheered at my baby wheelie, you’d think I just won a MotoGP race. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face at how genuinely excited he was at my very small win.
He rolls his eyes at me. “They’re just plastics. I have a million more sets at home. Even if you’d totaled my bike, it would’ve been worth it to see you overcome your fear and accomplish something.”
I snort and shake my head. He really is a good guy. His excitement and energy are infectious. The softer side of him that seems to know just what to say when I’m hurting melts my heart.
I’m glad I got to spend this time getting to know him a little better, despite not being ready for anything more. Although, the more time I spend with the guys, the more I think I could trust one or all of them with my heart.
“Well, when you put it that way, a few scratched fairings isn’t the worst, I guess.”
He chuckles as I glance up at him, our gazes locking.
The humor fades from his expression as something passes between us.
Tension crackles between us, and it feels like I’m being pulled by an invisible force toward him.
My breath hitches in my throat as I try to resist whatever is going on between us.
I know I’m not going to be able to fight it when Remy steps into my space. He cups my face and gives me plenty of time to pull away. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
When Remy’s lips softly brush mine, my eyes flutter shut as everything in me lights up at the gentle contact and screams for more.
I guess I’m not the only one wanting this kiss to go a hell of a lot further than it should. I can feel how hard he is against my stomach, and I have to fight the urge to rub against him. Even in the haze of lust, I still know I’m not ready for anything more than this right now.
A moan slips past my lips as heat pools in my core, and Remy deepens the kiss. He wraps my braids around his fist and angles my head the way he wants, taking complete control of it. His lips slide against mine as he tangles his tongue with mine.
When he pulls back a long moment later, I’m left a panting, shaking mess. My chest heaves as I desperately try to draw in air. My thoughts are all scrambled from hands down the best kiss of my life.
He smirks at me, clearly enjoying the effect he has on me. But I’m not the only one affected. His hand shakes slightly where he shoves it through his messy hair, and his pupils are dilated as he stares at me like he desperately wants more.
And I desperately want to give him more, but I can’t.
As reality crashes in, it feels like I’m doused in ice water. “Remy… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”
I just told the man that I wasn’t ready for anything more a few hours ago. And here I am getting lost in his touch, very much sending the wrong message.
“Shh, love,” he soothes as he cups my face in one hand and rubs a thumb over my cheekbone.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to.
It doesn’t have to lead to anything you don’t want it to.
Although it would pain me to forget something that fucking good, we can forget we even kissed, if that’s what you want. ”
While I know his offer is sincere, I can see the vulnerability in his gaze at the thought of me wanting to forget we kissed.
“I don’t wanna forget it,” I reassure him. In fact, I don’t think I could forget it if I tried. “I’m just not ready for anything more, and I’m not trying to lead you on.”
“I know. And I don’t expect anything more. You aren’t leading me on. I’m the one who kissed you as a thank you for such an incredible evening, okay? That’s all it has to mean right now.”
“Okay.” I pause for a beat before whispering, “Thank you, Remy.”
He tilts his head as he studies me. “For what?”
I shrug. “For being you. For being a good man. For reminding me that there are good people out there.”
His icy blue eyes soften as he crushes me against his chest. “Anytime, alouette,” he mumbles into my hair before pulling back and reluctantly stepping away. “And call or text me anytime you wanna hang out, talk, or even just vent about life.”
My mouth tugs up in a half smile. “I can do that.”
Pressing a kiss to the top of my head, Remy reluctantly releases me and walks back over to his own bike. Pulling on his helmet, he straddles his 600 and turns it on. Looking over his shoulder once more, he gives me a wave before pulling out of the parking lot.
I stare after him for a while after he disappears from sight, lost in my thoughts about him and the other guys.
I thought moving to Willow Bend would be the biggest change to my life after Wren died, but the guys crashing into my life has changed everything.
While I know I need to be cautious around them and guard my heart, I feel like I grow as a person every time I hang out with them. I get out of my shell, try new things, and start to trust people again—all of which Wren would’ve wanted.
Maybe letting them in wouldn’t be so bad.
Sighing at myself, because I’m not going to figure out my life standing in the parking lot, I grab my helmet and turn to make my way inside. I can’t wipe the silly smile off my face the entire walk through the lot, up the stairs, and to the door of my apartment.
Unlocking my door, I push it open. I freeze when a familiar scent I hoped I’d never smell again hits my nose. The overpowering smell of burnt coffee and fresh dirt overwhelms me as I cautiously glance around my apartment.
I’m surprised to see Andrew standing in my living room, grinning at me. I’d be annoyed at how fucking proud of himself he looks if I weren’t frozen in fear.
Andrew looks the same as he did seven months ago. He’s around six feet tall, has broad shoulders, and most would consider him handsome. He nails the all-American look with his wavy blond hair trimmed short, blue eyes, and tanned skin.
It’s only when you really look for it that you notice the cruelty in his washed-out blue eyes or the smirk perpetually on his lips.
“Andrew,” I croak, hating that my voice is coming out so small and unsure. “What are you doing here?”
I still can’t believe this is happening. Part of me hopes I’ll blink and he will disappear, but I know it’s not going to be that easy to get rid of him.
“What am I doing here? Oh, birdie, I thought you were smarter than that. I’m here to drag you back home, kicking and screaming if I have to.
” His face twists into a mask of anger. “Although, after that last night, I thought you would’ve understood the virtues to remaining pure.
Not tongue-fucking white-trash biker scum like you were earlier. ”
Memories of the night Andrew discovered I wasn’t as “pure” as my parents led him to believe try to creep up. I forcefully push them down because I need to deal with the threat right in front of me rather than get sucked into the past.
If it were any other situation, I’d laugh at Andrew calling Remy white trash. I can guarantee the guys are many times richer than the Fowlers, despite them not flaunting their wealth at every opportunity.
Rather than telling him in no uncertain terms that there’s no way in hell I’m going back with him, I try to stall for time to think up a way out of this. “How did you find me?”
He rolls his eyes at me, as if he can’t believe how stupid I am. “You led me straight to you, birdie. I had no idea if the numbers were you or not. Once I knew, well, I had to come here as soon as I could.”
I grit my teeth as I mentally berate myself for being so stupid. Telling him to fuck off felt good in the moment, but it was the wrong call and so not worth it.
“What is it you want from me?”
That’s one thing I could never figure out.
Despite their abhorrent personalities, the Fowler brothers have no shortage of women throwing themselves at them. I never understood why Andrew has been so persistent in pursuing me after I broke off our engagement, when he could very easily find himself another bride.
“I want what I was promised,” he roars. I flinch back at the sudden noise and the rage twisting his face. He smooths down his navy tie as he gets himself back under control. “I made an arrangement with your parents, and I expect that to be fulfilled. So, you’ll be coming back home with me.”
Yeah, that’s not happening. I’d rather die than go back to Oakridge Park with him. And, recently, I’ve started to have more to live for, so fuck that.
It’s my turn to level him with a condescending look that wordlessly questions his intelligence. “How do you see this working out, Andrew? Dragging back an unwilling and nonconsenting bride is going to do what for you, exactly?”
“Your consent and willingness are unimportant to me,” he tells me so matter-of-factly that it chills me to the bone. “All I need you to do is produce an heir, which I can achieve without your consent.”
My eyes widen in horror at what he’s suggesting. “Your solution is to drag me home and rape me until I get pregnant?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
I thought Andrew was a few screws short of a full crayon box, but I didn’t realize he was an actual psychopath. He discusses sexually assaulting and impregnating me so casually that I shudder to think what else he has planned for me.
He crosses his arms and begins tapping the toe of one of his brown Italian leather oxfords. “That was always the plan, birdie. What do you think happened during Marcus’s and Wren’s ‘honeymoon’?”
“I don’t know.”
Wren came home from their honeymoon different. Changed. Hollow. It was like all the life and passion and joy were sucked right out of her.
She refused to ever talk to me about their honeymoon. After seeing how distressed she was each time I brought it up, I eventually stopped asking.
I knew nothing good happened that week, but I’m starting to realize I didn’t understand anywhere near the full extent of it.
“That week was all about breaking your pathetic older sister,” he sneers. “Marcus was impressed she lasted a whole week. But, in the end, she was as feeble as all women are. I highly doubt it’ll take me more than a few days to break you. You always were weaker than Wren.”
His comments about “breaking” me are lost amid the growing horror of what I’m realizing must’ve happened to Wren.
“What do you mean, breaking her?” I ask carefully, needing to hear him say it.
He sighs, like he can’t believe I’m this dense.
“Marcus took Wren by force over and over again for an entire week until that little fire burning in her was snuffed out. He told me how satisfying it was to watch her struggle at first, then realize she couldn’t make it stop and begin crying out for that boy Cooper before eventually lying there silently and taking it. ”
My heart shatters into a million pieces, hearing what happened to Wren and the fact that none of us were there to stop it.
I already knew Marcus forced himself onto her throughout their marriage, but I didn’t realize how often it happened at first. Or how cold and calculated it was.
The devastation I feel for what my big sister went through quickly turns to an all-consuming anger. My vision turns red and hazy, and all I can think about is making the people pay who did this to my sister.
“You fucking monster!” I scream as I launch myself at him. I don’t have a plan, other than to rip Andrew apart piece by piece. Then I’ll find his older brother and do the same to him.
I crash into Andrew with more force than he expected as he stumbles back a couple of steps. I rake my nails down his face and punch what I hope is his solar plexus with my other hand.
But that’s as far as I get before Andrew grabs me by the throat and rips me off him. He whirls us around before slamming me into the wall he was just in front of, hard enough to dent the drywall.
I’m too dazed from the impact and his hand crushing my throat, making it hard to breathe, to do anything more than blink up at him.
The haze could also have something to do with the fact that my concussion is only barely healed. I’m pretty sure the impact of my skull crashing into the wall reinjured my already recovering brain.
If I can’t get my thoughts together, I’m going to be in serious trouble. I’m not strong like Wren was. I know I won’t survive going back and being broken further by him.
If Andrew manages to overpower me and take me home, it’s over for me.