4. Raven
RAVEN
The kiss haunted me.
Three days had passed since Wraith kissed me against on his kitchen counter top, since his mouth crashed into mine with weeks of pent-up hunger, since I'd finally tasted what I'd been craving from that first moment in the clubhouse.
Three days of him pulling back, rebuilding walls, treating me with careful politeness that made me want to scream.
Or strip naked in his living room just to see that control shatter again.
"Earth to Raven." Tiffany's voice cut through my spiral. "You haven't touched your coffee, and Bea's coffee is basically liquid gold."
I blinked, focusing on the woman across from me at Bea's Diner. Tiffany had texted this morning suggesting a "girls' day"—shopping, coffee, gossip. Normal things that felt surreal when my body still burned from phantom touches.
"Sorry. Just thinking about the job hunt." The lie rolled off easily. I'd gotten good at those lately.
"Bullshit." Tiffany stirred sugar into her third cup, studying me with those sharp nurse eyes that probably caught every tell. "You've been floating around looking thoroughly kissed for three days. Spill."
Heat flooded my face. "I don't know what—"
"Please. I lived with Blade when he was fighting his attraction to me. I know that look." She leaned forward, lowering her voice even though the lunch rush had mostly cleared out. "It's Wraith, isn't it?"
My silence was answer enough.
"Holy shit." Tiffany sat back, eyes wide. "Blade's going to lose his mind."
"Nothing's happening." Technically true. One explosive kiss followed by three days of pointed distance wasn't exactly something.
"But you want it to."
The truth spilled out before I could stop it.
"I've wanted him since the second I walked into that clubhouse.
It's insane. Love at first sight isn't real, right?
That's romance novel garbage. But I looked at him and just...
knew. Like my soul recognized his or some ridiculous cosmic thing that makes no sense. "
Tiffany's expression softened. "That's how it was with Blade. One look and my entire world rearranged itself around him."
"But you didn't have to worry about Blade murdering someone for touching you."
"No, I just had to worry about thugs trying to steal drugs from the clinic." She reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "Look, I won't tell Blade. That's not my secret to share. But Raven? Be careful. Your brother loves you both. This could destroy his friendship with Wraith.”
"You think I don't know that?" Frustration bled through. "You think I want to feel this way about my brother's best friend? His military brother who literally saved his life?"
"What do you mean?"
I'd said too much, but Tiffany deserved context. "Blade never talks about it, but Wraith mentioned it that first week. They met at some VA hospital bar, both drinking themselves toward bad decisions. Got in a fight together, ended up in lockup. That's where Viper found them."
"I knew they had history, but..."
"There's more. When Wraith's sister died—cancer, few years ago—Blade kept him from eating his gun. Literally. Took the weapon, stayed with him for three days straight until the worst passed."
Tiffany's eyes glistened. "Jesus."
"So yeah, I get it. This thing with Wraith? It's the worst idea possible. But I can't make it stop. Every time I see him, every time he makes my coffee exactly right without asking, every time he tries so hard to maintain distance... it just makes me want him more."
"The forbidden fruit thing?"
"No." I pushed hair behind my ear, trying to find words. "It's like... imagine you've been speaking a foreign language your whole life, and then you meet someone who speaks your native tongue. Everything just clicks. Makes sense. Feels right in a way nothing else ever has."
"That's beautiful and terrible."
"That's my life." I managed a laugh that came out shaky. "I should leave. Find somewhere else to stay. Remove the temptation."
"Where would you go? You're broke, between jobs, and Blade would track you down anyway."
All valid points that I'd already considered during my sleepless nights. "Maybe I could stay with—"
"Don't you dare suggest staying with some random person when you have family here." Tiffany's mom voice emerged, surprisingly fierce. "You belong here. The question is what you're going to do about Wraith."
"Nothing. There's nothing to do. He made that clear after—" I caught myself.
"After what?" When I stayed silent, her eyes narrowed. "Raven Beckett, did something already happen?"
"We kissed." The admission felt like relief and condemnation combined. "Three days ago. I came home upset about another dead-end interview—amazing how fast word spreads when your ex trashes your reputation—and Wraith was just there, being understanding, and I couldn't help myself. I kissed him."
"And?"
"And he kissed me back like a drowning man finding air. Pressed me against him on the counter top, hands everywhere, grinding together like teenagers." My skin heated at the memory. Then we got interrupted and we came crashing back down to earth.
"Shit."
"Yeah." I took a long drink of cold coffee, needing something to ground me. "Now Wraith can barely look at me. Like I'm made of glass. Or dynamite. Maybe both."
"He's scared."
"Of Blade?"
"Of himself." Tiffany's understanding carried experience. "These men, they have codes. Honor. Brotherhood. When something threatens that, it breaks them in ways we can't fully understand."
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. Tiffany's eyes tracked my movement as I pulled it from my purse, watched my face as the blood drained from it.
Found you. Can't run from me, baby.
The diner sounds faded. My hands shook as I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. He'd found me. After two months of silence, after three cities, after changing my number twice—Derek had found me.
"Raven?" Tiffany's voice sounded distant. "What's wrong?"
"I have to go." I stood too fast, knocking over my water glass. The crash brought Bea running, but I was already moving, shoving bills on the table, needing to get back to Wraith's apartment. To safety. To the one person who made me feel protected even when he wouldn't touch me.
"Raven, wait!" Tiffany caught my arm outside. "What happened? You look terrified."
"It's nothing. I just—I need to go."
"That wasn't nothing. That was fear." Her grip tightened, not painful but insistent. "Is someone threatening you?"
"It's handled. Was handled. I thought—" My voice cracked. "I have to go."
I pulled away, practically running down Main Street. Three blocks to Wraith's apartment. Three blocks of looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Derek's rental BMW, his perfect smile hiding the monster underneath.
My hands fumbled with the keys Wraith had given me. The door finally opened, and I stumbled inside, slamming it behind me and engaging both locks plus the chain.
"Raven?" Wraith emerged from his bedroom, alert instantly to my distress. "What happened?"
"Nothing. I just—" But my hands wouldn't stop shaking, and suddenly he was there, solid and warm and safe.
"You're trembling." His hands cupped my shoulders, thumbs stroking calming circles. "Talk to me."
"Someone texted. Wrong number probably."
"Show me."
It wasn't a request. I handed over my phone, watched his expression darken as he read the message.
"Derek." Not a question. The way he said the name—flat, dangerous—made me flinch.
"It's fine. He's just trying to scare me."
"Is it working?"
The gentle question undid me. "Yes."
"This ends now." His voice carried that quiet authority that probably made enemy combatants confess their secrets. "No more running, no more hiding. Tell me everything you didn't say at the clubhouse the other night."
"It's fine. He's just trying to scare me."
"Is it working?"
The gentle question undid me. "Yes."
"Tell me everything." He guided me to the couch, maintaining touch—hand on my back, fingers brushing mine as he took the phone again. "No minimizing, no protecting him. Everything."
So I did. The whole ugly story tumbled out while Wraith sat perfectly still, only his jaw tightening with each revelation.
"Derek Martell. Investment banker, trust fund baby, the kind of guy who looked perfect on paper. We met at a marketing event—his firm was a client. He pursued me hard, flowers and expensive dinners, the whole fairy tale package."
"But fairy tales are usually horror stories before Disney sanitizes them."
That startled a laugh from me. "Exactly. It started small. Comments about my clothes being too revealing. Suggestions about losing weight. Complaints about my friends being 'low class.' Classic manipulation, but it happened so gradually I didn't notice the cage being built."
"When did it escalate?"
"Six months in. I tried to break up with him. Said we weren't compatible." I wrapped my arms around myself. "He showed up at my apartment, wouldn't leave. Said I was confused, that I needed him to think for me since I clearly couldn't make good decisions alone."
Wraith's hands flexed, knuckles whitening. "He put his hands on you?"
"Not... exactly. He was smart about it. Crowding me into corners. Blocking doorways. Making me feel trapped without technically assaulting me. Nothing I could report. Nothing that would leave marks."
"Psychological warfare."
"You sound familiar with the concept."
"Different context, same tactics. Break someone's spirit, you don't need to break their body."
"Yeah, well, it worked. I stayed another six months. Until I found out he'd been sabotaging my friendships, telling people I'd said horrible things about them. Isolated me completely. That's when I knew I had to run."
"So you tried to leave."
"And he destroyed me." The words came out bitter. "Called my boss, told him I'd been stealing proprietary information for competitors. Completely fabricated, but Derek had connections, manufactured evidence. They fired me on the spot. No severance, no reference, nothing."
"That's when you came here."