Chapter 6
Nyxa
Idon't belong here.
The thought won’t stop repeating as North pulls up the long private driveway that winds toward his place inside the compound. Everything feels too still. Too clean. Too his.
The bike slows to a crawl, tires crunching on gravel. My arms are still wrapped around his waist, but my body’s gone stiff again.
Beyond the fence is a beautiful yard, grass that’s actually green, trimmed hedges, a wide patio that looks like it belongs in one of those lifestyle magazines I used to flip through in waiting rooms. There’s even a garage.
A real garage. And a sleek black car parked in front of it that looks more expensive than anything I’ve ever touched.
My stomach twists.
He cuts the engine, and I ease off the bike, legs wobbly from the ride and the nerves crawling under my skin.
“This way,” he says, already striding to the door.
I follow.
He unlocks the door and pushes it open, stepping inside like he owns the world.
The scent hits me first. His: leather, and cedar. It clings to the air and sinks into the walls. Makes the whole place feel like an extension of him. We step into a small hallway that opens up into the living room, and I catch my breath.
The space is open, warm. Lived in, but spotless.
A massive sectional couch dominates the living room, placed perfectly in front of a fireplace with a wide flat-screen mounted above it.
The mantle is bare, save for a lighter and a small bowl of keys.
Across from it, a kitchen gleams with polished counters and untouched appliances.
Stainless steel, matte black. Everything is sharp and clean.
It looks barely used. Like he never stays long enough to cook.
Maybe he doesn’t. I’ve never even seen a stove that fancy in real life.
“Don’t stop there,” he says without turning around. “Come on.”
I follow quietly as he walks through the house, motioning at rooms like it’s nothing.
“Bathroom,” he grunts, pointing left. “Spare room. Another room—don’t open that door. Master’s down here. Laundry’s off the kitchen. Pantry next to it.”
It’s more space than I’ve ever seen in one place.
More than I ever imagined having. Myka’s apartment was one room.
A mattress, a half-broken fridge, a sink that never worked right.
The walls were thin, the neighbors worse.
I was lucky to have clean clothes, let alone a bed that didn’t stink of mold.
Here, every surface shines. The air smells fresh.
Not a single thing is out of place. I shouldn’t be here.
I don’t deserve to be here. My fingers curl tighter around the strap of the small bag they gave me.
North’s jacket is still draped over my shoulders, the only thing that makes me feel tethered to anything.
He stops in the hallway and glances over his shoulder. “You’ll stay here until I figure out what’s next.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He stares for a second longer, then keeps walking.
I’m frozen in the middle of his hallway, drowning in the silence he left behind. I’ve never felt more like a ghost in my life and somehow, this house, this beautiful, perfect house, makes it worse. Because for the first time in forever, I feel what I’ve missed.
What I’ve never had, and it hurts so damn bad.
His voice snaps through the silence. “You hungry?”
I blink, startled out of my spiraling thoughts. My gut clenches, not from hunger, but shame.
“No,” I murmur, shaking my head.
The low growl that rumbles from his chest makes my breath catch. My back instinctively presses to the nearest wall, a reflex I can’t kill.
He notices and turns slowly, gaze cold but unreadable. “Rule one: you don’t lie to me. Ever.”
My cheeks burn, but I keep my eyes low.
“Rule two: speak up. I’m not a fuckin’ mind reader. If you’re hurting, sick, tired, I want to hear it. Got it?”
I nod.
“Say it.”
“Got it,” I whisper.
His jaw ticks. “Louder.”
“Got it,” I say again, stronger this time.
“Rule three: get used to me barking. I talk loud, I move fast. But I won’t lay a hand on you. Ever. You flinch at me again, and I’ll start yelling just to prove the point.”
My heart thuds. I want to believe him but Myka shoving me through a wall was a routine.
“Around here,” North continues, stepping closer but not enough to touch, “women are part of the family. All of them.”
My mouth goes dry. I know what Myka told me. The women they love might be safe, but candies? Candies are free game.
“You take care of yourself here: eat, speak, move. The house is yours as much as mine. You want music? Play it. You want to clean, fine. You want to sleep? Do it. But you don’t hide in corners. Not in my home.”
I feel smaller by the second. Like a kid being handed a gift she doesn't understand.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can walk anywhere around the block, the clubhouse, whatever. But don’t leave the hood. Not without a patched member. Ravell’s safe, but I’m not gonna hunt for you through alleys because you got turned around.”
Fear slices down my spine. Even now, even here, I’m not safe to walk alone but something in his tone, it’s not about locking me in. It’s about keeping me in one piece.
His phone buzzes. He checks the screen, face tightens, and without another word, he walks out the door.
And I’m alone again, only this time, the silence doesn’t feel empty. It feels like the beginning of something.