by Bella Jewel
When he held me as I cried.
When he kissed me for the first time.
I remember it all.
I remember how he smelt, how he tasted, how it felt.
“Hey,” he says when he reaches me.
His fingers curl around my shoulders and he squeezes, trying to snap me out of whatever little zone I’m in. A zone I don’t quite understand.
“Aviana, focus on me, yeah?”
My eyes meet his, and I stare at him with all the pain, hurt, and shattered pieces I’ve been stashing deep in my soul. “Why, Cohen?” I whisper, my voice far too shaky to make an appearance. “Why did you hurt me like that?”
He stares at me, and his face is full of so many emotions I can’t quite pinpoint a single one. He looks hurt, and confused, and even a little angry. At himself? At me? I don’t know.
“I fucked up. I made the worst mistake of my life doin’ that to you, but you gotta know at the time, I thought it was the safest thing. I truly thought I was doin’ right by you. I thought you would get a new identity and you’d be able to start your life fresh...”
“You could have taken me away, could have told me what you were keeping from me, could have kept me safe yourself.”
“I couldn’t have done that. The club couldn’t have done that. Your entire family was dead and you saw me do it. You watched me suck the life from their bodies. You were never goin’ to unsee that. You were never goin’ to be safe. The best thing for you, at the time, was for everyone in the world to think you were dead.”
I shake my head, breaking eye contact. I can’t hear any more. I don’t want to hear any more. I just want all of this to stop.
“I can’t make it stop, Cohen. I can’t make any of it go away. It’s breaking me. I need it to stop. Do you understand me? I need you to make it stop.”
My voice raises toward the end of the sentence, becoming frantic and desperate. My body shakes and my heart pounds. I feel desperate and needy, like if something doesn’t happen soon, I will lose it. I’ll just lose it.
“I can’t make it stop, Aviana. Only you can do that.”
“You can!” I scream, slamming my open hand onto his chest. It makes a slapping sound as it connects with his warm skin. “You can make it stop, you can.”
“Aviana, I can’t.”
“Please,” I beg, my fingers curling now against his skin, my nails scratching into him. “Please, Cohen.”
“Fuck.”
He takes my chin in his hand and tips my head back, looking down at me. Then, before I know what’s happening, he’s kissing me. His mouth is covering mine in the most intense and incredible kiss I’ve probably ever received in my short life. His lips are full and warm and he tastes incredible. His body is hard and firm and, as he pulls me against him, I can feel every inch of it. I want more and, yet, I want him to stop.
Our tongues clash and our kiss becomes frantic. I reach up and curl my fingers into his hair and, with a feral growl, he scoops me up off the ground and into his arms, then he’s striding toward his room with purpose. He shoves the door open, not once breaking the kiss, and he walks me straight to his bed where he lays me down, his hard body covering mine.
It’s only then I remember he’s sharing a room with two men.
I pull my mouth from his and look over to where the other two beds are.
“Samson and Bohdi are in here.”
“Then you’ll have to be really fuckin’ quiet.”
His mouth finds mine again and he kisses me into submission, his hands roaming over my body, touching every single part of me. His fingers are gentle, but his hands are rough, and with every stroke he eases something inside of me.
We don’t waste time.
It could be desperation or purely need.
Either way, he has me naked in seconds and as he slips off his pants, he becomes naked, too. His hard body falls over mine and feeling his skin against my own makes me tremble. Smelling him, feeling the power he’s holding as he towers over me, makes me want to scream with satisfaction. His mouth drowns out every moan as he slowly pushes his cock inside of me, inch by inch, filling me and stretching me in a way I couldn’t even begin to dream about.
I kiss him harder to stop the moan, and it becomes so frantic my lips burn and my tongue aches, but it doesn’t stop me. I kiss him with all the pent-up ferocity and anger I’ve held inside for so long. He takes my hands in his and holds them above my head, then he starts fucking me. Slowly, so god damned slowly it makes me squirm with desperation.
“Hush,” he murmurs into the darkness.
He rocks his hips, dragging his cock in and out, bringing my body to the edge quickly. I tighten around him and my breathing becomes labored as an orgasm threatens to rise to the surface far too quickly. Cohen releases my mouth and his lips find my neck where he kisses a trail down my throat. It’s in that moment I realize what’s happening right now.
He’s making love to me.
He’s not fucking me at all, he’s not shoving his cock in hard and deep to find release, he’s doing it slowly, passionately, carefully.
His fingers are stroking over mine; his mouth is creating fire with every path he kisses and his body is gentle. His thrusts are deep, but slow, in and out, careful not to hurt me.
I clench my eyes shut and tears roll down my cheeks. Since they started, I’ve been unable to stop them. Over and over they flow, and it only makes me frustrated. Cohen’s lips find them, and he kisses them from my cheeks, which makes me want to fall in love with him so fucking hard it’s terrifying.
I can’t do that.
I can’t do any of this.
“Stop,” I plead, turning my head to the side. “Please, stop.”
He stops immediately, my words causing him to pause. He looks down at me and murmurs, “Am I hurtin’ you?”
Yes.
He is hurting me.
He’s hurting my fucking soul.
He’s making me want things I can’t have.
I will never have.
He slowly moves his hips again and the pleasure is undeniable. Part of me wants to run, screaming, the other part of me wants to stay just so I can feel this for a second longer.
I know that’s not going to help me, though.
I can’t be doing this.
I can’t feel anything for him.
“I need to go, please, let me go.”
He doesn’t hesitate moving his body off mine. The feeling of it disappearing makes my heart ache in ways I can’t even begin to understand. I get out of the bed, scrambling for my clothes. Cohen doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything, he just watches me as I dress myself.
I rush to the door and, before I go out, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
Then, I’m gone.
THE NEXT DAY IS SILENT as we drive.
Nobody speaks, nobody mentions the events from the day before.
We all refuse to bring up what we all know was something incredibly emotional.
Merleigh asked me how I am before we got into the car, but that was it. She didn’t say another word after that. Briella tried to talk to me, but I kept avoiding her. As for Cohen, the stares he has been giving me all day make my heart hurt and my stomach feel heavy. He’s looking at me like he feels sorry for me, like he wants to help me but I don’t need his help.
What I need to do is get my shit together.
To finish this and move on.
I don’t want to hurt these people, I truly don’t. Right now, I want to confront my uncle, to put my past behind me, to make him suffer and then disappear. As for the club, for Cohen, I don’t know how I feel about any of that anymore. Gone is the angry rage toward them, the desire to make them suffer, now all I feel is empty and numb.
Can I bring myself to risk all their lives, to make myself as bad as the people I’m fighting against?
I don’t know.
I need to snap out of this emotional bullshit and put my wall back up, higher this time. I can’t let them in,
being here with them isn’t going to fix anything. Once this is done, I’m never going to see any of them again.
Why the hell does that thought hurt so much?
Cohen reaches over and turns the radio up, the deafening silence clearly too much for him.
I lean back in the chair, closing my eyes to try and drown out the awkward feeling in this car, but I’m jerked upright when a loud bang rings out and then Cohen is swerving off the road. We’re the last in the line of cars, and whatever just happened, Cohen is losing control of the car.
Have we got a flat tire?
Merleigh jerks upright too and we both reach out for the door handles, hanging on tightly.
“Did we lose a tire?” Samson asks, eyes darting as Cohen steadies the truck.
Another loud bang.
This time it hits the metal of the car and there is no denying that it certainly is not a tire.
“Someone is fuckin’ shooting at us. Put your head down girls. Now.”
Cohen’s voice is harsh and sudden, and we do as he asks, putting our heads down between our knees. I’m terrified, and even more so now I can’t see anything. Samson shuffles, reaches back, and is grabbing for something, and I catch sight of the gun he pulls from underneath the chair. “Call Alarick,” Cohen orders, speeding up. “Alert him.”
Samson does just that, and a moment later I hear his frantic voice as he alerts Alarick to what’s happening.
“Can you see anyone behind you?” Alarick asks, his voice slightly muffled as it comes through Samson’s phone.
“Black car, it’s a sedan, can’t see who’s in it. Didn’t even notice it approachin’. What do you want us to do, boss? We don’t know how many people are in there, or what kind of weapons they’ve got. They clearly want us to fuckin’ stop. We do, we’re goin’ to die.”
Jesus. Christ.
Die?
We’ll die?
“Speed up, five miles to the left there is a dirt road. We’ll go down it, our trucks will take it well, theirs won’t go down that easily. We’ll get ahead of them there until we can lose them. Call Mykel, tell him the plan. Don’t stop. No matter what.”
Samson hangs up the phone, and I hear him alert Mykel, too.
I glance at Merleigh and she’s shaking.
Poor thing.
I reach out and take her hand, and we both keep our heads down but she gives me a look that shows how grateful she is for that small gesture.
Cohen speeds up and shots ring out, hitting different parts of the truck. I’ve never felt so sick in my life. Will a shot come right through the seat and kill one of us? What if Cohen gets shot? Or someone else.
We’re flying now, so fast the car is banging and bouncing as we power down the road. That must mean the two trucks in front of us are going even faster.
What feels like hours pass, but in reality it is only minutes. Suddenly, Cohen screeches off the side of the road and we all lose our balance, slamming into the sides of the car. Merleigh falls over onto me and my head hits the door with a hard thud. “Sorry,” Cohen growls, his voice tight. “Hang on.”
Now we’re bouncing so hard everything on my body is shaking. Trees scrape down the sides of the car and Cohen is jerking it around as he navigates his way down the dirt road. The shots stop and I wonder if the black car followed us down. My question is answered when Samson informs us, “They’re not followin’ us.”
“Tell Alarick, but we’ll keep movin’. Can’t risk them catchin’ up if they’re just laggin’ behind.”
I clench my eyes shut for what feels like forever as we bounce around, just waiting for another shot to ring out. Thankfully, it doesn’t. Cohen stops eventually. Slowly, Merleigh and I lift our heads.
We’re in the middle of some pretty thick bushland, with only a dirt road running through it, and even that is narrow and overgrown. Cohen’s truck is no doubt going to be covered in scratches, judging by the sounds we heard as we were moving. “Get out of the truck, but stay close.”
We do as he tells us and get out of the truck. I glance around, terrified at any moment they’ll pop out of the bush and start shooting at us. We’re pretty deep in, and if they’re only driving a sedan, there is just no way they’d be able to get down this far. The trucks struggled to get through as the road narrowed. I take a look at Cohen’s truck as we walk toward where Alarick and Mykel are pulled up, and I cringe at the bullet holes and scratches.
“Is everyone okay?” Alarick asks as his eyes scan over us.
“We’re all fine,” Cohen informs him.
“That was terrifying,” Briella says, stepping closer to Alarick, her eyes scanning the bush too.
“We’re not safe. Anyone know who the fuck those men were?” Alarick asks.
“No fuckin’ idea,” Kendric growls. “But whoever they were, they were determined to fuckin’ stop us.”
An idea comes to me as they’re talking.
If this road goes straight through to another road, they’re more than likely going to go to the other end to wait for us to emerge. We’re safer if we turn around. I take my phone from my pants and pull up a map. I can see the road Alarick directed us down, I can also see it comes out onto another smaller road that leads into a town, about another ten or so miles.
“We need to turn around and go back out the way we came in,” I say, looking at Alarick.
“What the fuck would we do that for?”
I take my phone over to him and show him the screen. “Because this road goes out near a town and you can bet they’re going to be waiting at that exit for us. If we turn around, we’ll be safer.”
“She has a good point,” Bohdi mutters. “Makes a fuck load of sense.”
“I gotta agree,” Mykel adds.
“It’s risky,” Alarick murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. “But you do have a good point, they’re likely on the other end waitin’.”
“If they’re not though ...” Briella says, her voice hesitant.
“I think Avi is right.” Waverly crosses her arms and leans her hip against Mykel’s truck. “It makes the most logical sense.”
“How many guns we got on us?” Cohen asks, arms tightly crossed over his chest.
“We got two,” Samson says.
“We’ve got about four in the truck,” Mykel adds.
“Another two in mine,” Alarick tells us.
“Then we’ve got enough to defend ourselves if we’re careful,” I say.
“Like to know how they knew where we were, first,” Cohen growls, and his eyes swing to me.
“No fuckin’ idea,” Alarick says, staring down at his phone, looking at a map.
“Seems convenient that they knew exactly where we were, and when ...”
He can’t be serious.
His eyes are on me, and I know exactly what he’s indicating.
“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” I snap. “I would never do that.”
Well, I mean I would, but I didn’t. I truly didn’t.
“You expect me to believe that when you’ve done nothin’ but carry on about how much you fuckin’ hate us, and now there are a bunch of fuckin’ men who happen to know exactly where we’re goin’? That isn’t a coincidence.”
“Why don’t you look at someone else in the club then?” I growl. “It’s not like it would be the first time you’ve been double crossed. No offense, Samson.”
Samson gives me a death stare that makes my skin prickle.
“Do you know anythin’ about this?” Alarick asks, his voice far less confident now.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Gotta understand that you have made it clear you’re not on our side, Aviana.”
“I didn’t do this!” I yell, throwing my hands up.
“How do we know that they’re not waitin’ at the entrance and this is your doin’? You want us to turn around and walk straight back into the fuckin’ firin’ line,” Cohen challenges, his eyes intense.
“You’re a truly h
orrible person,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t do this.”
“We can’t trust her,” Cohen tells Alarick. “You know we can’t. We need to be careful, we’ve gone wrong so many fuckin’ times now. If we go wrong again, we’re never gettin’ Samson’s daughter back and we’re never fuckin’ finishing this.”
“She didn’t do this, Alarick,” Briella says, shaking her head. “I know she didn’t.”
“How?” Alarick asks her. “How can you be one hundred percent sure?”
Briella bites her lip, unable to answer because she can’t be one hundred percent sure.
“She wouldn’t risk our lives, she’s not that cold hearted!” Waverly snaps.
“I agree,” Merleigh nods. “She wouldn’t.”
Alarick ponders it for a moment, but when his eyes swing to me, I know he’s not going to take the risk. “I’m sorry, Aviana. But I can’t risk the lives of my club members. You have made it clear you don’t want any of us around, and it is convenient they knew our location and exactly where we would be. You’re the only person who knows where we’re goin’. Gotta do this, I’m sorry. Cohen, take her phone and cuff her.”
What?
No.
They’re joking, right?
I start backing up, shaking my head. I’m so hurt, so horrified, but surely, surely they don’t think this was me? I can see why they would, but I didn’t do anything. I truly didn’t do anything.
Cohen goes to his truck and pulls out some cuffs, then he strides toward me.
“Cohen,” I say, my voice hurt. “I didn’t do this. You know I didn’t do this.”
“I don’t know anything, Aviana. I just know we’ve gotta keep the club safe. You won’t be hurt, but we need to have eyes on you at all times.”
“So, you’re going to cuff me?” I cry, backing up faster.
“Can’t know that you won’t get a phone and let someone know. Hand over your cell and don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“You were making love to me just last night,” I say, my voice broken. “You wanted me to trust you. How can you do this? Cuff me like some sort of prisoner. I’m not. You know I’m not. Please, don’t take away my freedom again.”
He hesitates, but he doesn’t stop. He moves toward me, carefully, his eyes intense and his body ready to lunge the moment I try to run. My heart is racing and my legs tremble. The very idea of being cuffed and held against my will, without the chance to have my freedom, brings back a feeling in me I’ve desperately tried to drown out. I won’t be a prisoner again. I won’t.