by Bella Jewel
“Caiden,” I croak, but I can’t hear myself speak.
Am I imagining that I am?
Why can’t I hear myself speak?
“Caiden,” I try again.
I try to turn my head, but I can’t; blood pours from one ear and pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt takes over, making me scream out in agony.
Only I can’t hear that, either.
I can’t hear a single thing in my nightmare.
And before I can cry out for help, my world starts spinning and it goes black.
Little do I know, it’ll stay that way.
-1-
NOW – AMALIE
They came out of nowhere.
I didn’t see them. I didn’t hear them. Of course, I didn’t hear them. But I didn’t sense them, either. One moment, I’m walking, heading back to the tour bus, then I’m being grabbed from behind and dragged into a dark alley.
I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
A firm, calloused hand is covering my mouth.
Terror fills me, and I can’t do anything but squirm and try to fight off my attacker. It’s late in the afternoon, why would somebody attack me in broad daylight?
I squirm harder, trying to stomp on feet, or fight, or do something that’ll get the heavy man off me. But he’s dragging me further into an alley, then down another, and then we’re alone. Nobody can see me. They can’t hear me because I can’t scream. The only thought in my mind is, I wonder how many times this has happened to innocent people, so close to others, and nobody knew?
I’m spun around in his arms and faced towards a man, who is grinning, arms crossed, staring at me. I know his face. I’ve seen the photos. He’s been after Scarlett for weeks, months, years even. Treyton. He’s more terrifying in real life, then she could have ever explained him. Eyes cold as ice. A grin that shows absolutely no mercy.
“Hello there.”
I swallow. I don’t know what he wants from me, but I can guarantee it isn’t good. Why did I go out on my own? Why? I should have never done it, not with danger so imminent. I squirm again, but the man behind me tightens his grip around me. I start to panic, shaking my head from side to side. If I can free his hand, I can scream. Someone can help me.
God, someone please help me.
Treyton steps forward, and the man releases his hand. I go to scream, but Treyton takes hold of my jaw, squeezing it so tightly I can only open my mouth in a silent scream. He does this until tears roll down my cheeks, and I try to shake my head away from the pain. Only then does he let me go. And the man puts his hand back over my mouth again.
A warning.
A taste of what’s to come.
“Listen to me, Amalie.”
How does he know my name?
“You scream, and you’ll wish you were never born. I can promise you that. Either way, you’re not going to like me by the end of the day. I need to send a message. You’re the perfect way to do that. Ensure that you say hello to Scarlett to me, and inform her nothing she does will help her hide. I will find her. And I will get what I want from her.”
His fist smashes into my stomach, and I double over with a wheeze. The man behind me has let go, and steps back. His job is clearly done.
Treyton’s is about to start.
Another hard fist drives into my ribs, followed by another. He shows no mercy. Me being female means absolutely nothing to him. Agony unlike anything I’ve felt in a very long time rips through my body and I try to scream, but only a pained hiss comes out.
His foot connects with my jaw, and sends me flying. I land on the ground with a thump and a scream that hurts even me to hear.
Why isn’t anyone helping me?
Can nobody hear my screams?
There were people on the street. Where are they?
I roll and press my hands over my face, trying to protect it.
It’s no use.
His blows come hard and fast.
They come until I can’t breathe.
Until I can’t think.
Until I can no longer feel.
You think he’d stop after that.
He doesn’t.
~*~*~*~
My eyes flutter open, and my breathing is ragged. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, and to reassure myself that I’m safe now. I’m safe. He isn’t here. A warm hand curls around mine, and I turn to see Scarlett staring at me, her brown eyes wide, her face soft. “Another dream?”
I nod.
I didn’t even realise I fell asleep.
We were laying on her bed, chatting, and then I fell asleep. Exhaustion getting the better of me.
Scarlett’s fingers stay curled around mine and we lie side by side in her bed at the ranch, neither of us saying anything for a few moments. We’re both broken. Both battered. All because of her ex-boyfriend, Trey. Her silence hurts because it means she’s blaming herself, and I don’t want her to blame herself. Nothing that he did is on her.
He’s a monster and monsters don’t play by the rules.
“I didn’t realise I fell asleep,” I say softly, my voice a distant hum in my head, even worse now after my attack.
Scarlett rolls to her side, and her pretty face is battered, but not as badly as her body, or no doubt, her mind. This girl is everything to me. She gave me a chance that I’ve been searching for for such a long time. She believed in me when nobody else did. I’ll be by her side until the day she tells me she doesn’t want me there anymore.
“How are you?” she asks me.
I smile; it’s small, but it’s genuine. “I’m okay. Missing the freedom being on the road had but glad to be back home.”
Her brows furrow together. “You know what I mean, Amalie. After the attack? Are you okay? Do you still have nightmares about him?”
“Are you?”
She bites her bottom lip. “Stop turning it around.”
“I’m okay. I’m getting better.”
Outside of the injuries to my body, I am okay. I guess. I won’t mention to her how frequent the nightmares have been. Or explain the horror of what it felt like in those few terrifying hours that Treyton had me. I won’t tell her because it’ll only haunt her more, and she doesn’t deserve that. She knows how it feels.
We both know.
We’re just choosing not to say it.
“You’re a terrible liar, but so am I, so I guess we’re even.”
“We’re going to be okay,” I say to her, squeezing her hand. “We’re home now, we have the club watching over us, and we have this amazing ranch to explore and an album to create. Life is a whole lot of sunshine and rainbows, Scar.”
She laughs, and I can only faintly hear the pretty sound, but I like it all the same. I smile at her.
“You make everything sound like a dream, Amalie. And speaking of those bikers looking out for us …”
My heart slams into my ribcage. I know what she’s asking. She’s seen the way Malakai looks at me—we all have. The last few days that I’ve come around here he smiles at me in that way that makes my tummy feel funny. A way that I haven’t felt for so many years I’ve lost count.
But she doesn’t understand a smile is all he’ll ever be to me.
The darkness of my past still haunts me.
There is no escaping it.
There is no time for love.
Only music.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I say softly, staring at her.
She grins. “You know what I’m talking about. Mal. He is infatuated with you.”
“I hadn’t noticed. About those horses you have in the barn, when can we ride them?”
I’m not even being obvious about my change of subject, but I don’t know what she wants me to say? I have no way of explaining to her why Malakai and I can never be, without opening up a door and having her ask millions of questions. It’s best if we just don’t talk about it. And I forget about the handsome biker that stares at me like I’m his sunshine.
She
chuckles low. “You’re incredible at changing the subject. We can ride them when we’re both better.”
Horses. She’s talking about horses.
I smile.
Then, I roll back to my side, exhaling and closing my eyes. I can’t wait for that freedom, to gallop down the middle of a paddock, the wind in my face, not a care in the world.
It’ll be heaven.
“Yo.”
I only just hear the deep, masculine voice, and that’s purely because it’s rather booming. Scarlett and I both sit up to see Koda striding into the room, brown paper bag in his hand. He stops at the foot of the bed and looks down at us. “You two would be any man’s fantasy right now if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re both spoken for and the repercussions would be deadly.”
Scarlett giggles, and I flush.
I don’t know how to take these men sometimes. They’re so bold. So forward. So intense. And so incredibly beautiful.
“Thank you, Koda,” Scarlett says. “Now, what goods have you got in the bag today?”
“Muffins, cupcakes, and some other girly rubbish Maverick told me to get you. Don’t know how you stay skinny eating that shit all the time.”
Scarlett opens the bag, pulling out a large chocolate muffin. The smell hits me straight away, assaulting my nostrils, and god, it smells incredible. Warm chocolate. Sugar. Heaven.
“It’s called running,” she says, breaking off a piece and sticking it in her mouth, moaning.
I reach for the bag and pluck one out, too.
“You too, huh?” Koda says when I meet his eyes.
They’re all learning to speak directly to me, after I didn’t respond to them a few times. I appreciate it, because it’s extremely embarrassing to have someone speaking to you and think you’re ignorant because you don’t acknowledge them.
It’s even worse having to explain why you didn’t acknowledge them.
“Chocolate is a girl’s best friend.” I smile at him.
He grins at me. “Too sweet you are. Right, ladies, I’m out of here. I did my duty for the day. I have pussy waiting for me at the club.”
My cheeks burn again.
So … brutal.
“Gross, Koda,” Scarlett mutters, and I laugh at the horrified look on her face.
I glance back at Koda, and he’s grinning wide. “Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“You’re making the club sound like a giant orgy.”
He winks. “It is.”
I giggle.
Scarlett looks to me. “We need to go check this club out again soon.”
I glance back at Koda and he winks at me. “Sure Mal would love you precious little gems being exposed to that.”
My mouth forms an O and I look to Scarlett, who rolls her eyes. “Goodbye, Koda.”
Koda waves and then leaves the room, all six feet of him, stomping out like his weight is too much to carry. I bite into my muffin again, sighing as the gooey chocolate melts on my tongue. I think about the club, and I wonder what it is like there. Scarlett has been once, but she said she was too angry to take notice. Since then she hasn’t been back.
I glance over at the clock on the wall, and sigh.
I have to go.
I turn to Scarlett. “I have to go, but I’ll come back tonight, okay?”
“Okay. You know I can come to your place sometimes, you don’t always have to come here.”
But I do.
Because if she came to my place, she’d know that I’m not as pure and innocent as she believes. And I can’t have that. I need her to believe in me because she’s the only person I have left. The only person I can count on. If she knew what I really kept inside, she might not trust in me anymore.
“Someday.” I smile, hopefully putting her off the subject.
“Text me later, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
I take my muffin, wave goodbye, and leave the cottage. I step out the front door and run straight into a hard chest. A loud oomph leaves my throat and my hands automatically go up, muffin in one, and push against the object I just slammed into. Horror slowly washes over me when I realize that object is a man in a leather jacket and I just crushed my muffin all over it.
I step back, mouth agape, shame washing over me as I see Mal standing in front of me, chest covered in chocolate.
Oh, no.
Oh, God.
“I-I-I-I …,” I stammer, letting the muffin slip from my hand and crumble onto the floor.
My other hand goes up to my mouth and presses over it. I’m such a clumsy idiot. God. I avoid his eyes, horrified at what I’ve done. There is probably something against washing those leather jackets. Isn’t that what men do? They don’t wash them to keep them special? Now he’s going to have to wash it. All his memories. Everything. Boom. Because of me.
And my muffin.
A strong hand cups my jaw, and I shut my eyes.
Is he going to yell at me?
I would.
Not watching where I was going.
His calloused fingers shake my face, just a little, until my eyes pop open and I look up into his. Dazzling green. Just like Maverick’s. His hair is longer, curling around his shoulders, and it’s thick, so, so thick. He’s big. Bigger than any of the other members I’ve seen. His muscles strain beneath his tight black shirt. He’s terrifying, and utterly beautiful.
“Amalie.”
I can’t hear his voice clearly, but it penetrates enough for the smooth, husky sound to make my skin prickle. I stare up at him, cheeks burning with shame, and stammer, “I’m so sorry, Malakai. I didn’t know you were there. I’ve ruined your jacket and—”
He grins.
Grins!
I blink in confusion. Why is he laughing at me? I feel terrible.
“Jackets can be washed, darlin’,” he says, eyes dropping to my lips. “The look on your face right now … worth all the chocolate currently residing on it.”
I clench my eyes shut. His fingers are still curled around my jaw. And it feels nice. Protective. Safe.
“I’ll pay for it to get washed. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
I meet his eyes again, they’re dancing with humor. “Stop stressing out about it, you’re goin’ to send yourself into a state. Breathe, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
God.
“Right,” I whisper, stepping back.
I stare down at the crumbled muffin on the floor. “I can’t say I’ve ever done that before, at the very least.”
He chuckles, and I can hear it even though I’m not looking at him. I lift my eyes again, staring up at him through my lashes. “I guess it’s a welcome snack for you later …”
He bursts out laughing, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. His laugh. The way it makes his face look. It’s heaven.
“Duly noted. I’ll be sure to save myself a piece.”
I flush again.
“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” he asks me, and I try to avoid staring at the chocolate stain on his jacket.
“I just have to get home,” I tell him.
“Need a ride?”
I glance behind him at his very large, very beautiful, very angry looking motorcycle. “No, thanks,” I murmur.
“Scared?” he asks me, and my eyes hold his. I can feel his words, right to my very core.
I shouldn’t feel them.
Time to go.
I glance down and say in a soft voice, “It was good seeing you, Malakai. I have to get going.”
I rush past him quickly and to my car, only glancing back once. It’s a mistake, because he’s watching me, eyes intense, small smile on his lips. I’m not trying to, but I’m succeeding in making myself a challenge for him.
That’s not a good thing.
I should probably stay away.
But holding those green eyes, watching the way they speak for him, and I’m not so sure I truly want to stay away.
~*~*~*~
&
nbsp; “Where have you been?”
The second I step through my front door, my mother’s voice assaults me. I wish, more than anything, they didn’t call her when I got attacked. She came straight down to look after me, but now I’m having a lot of trouble getting rid of her. She seems to think I’m not safe and that I shouldn’t be going out until I know more about what happened. She doesn’t understand I already know what happened, and I know who happened. I also know I have a motorcycle club watching over me.
A small fact I’m not willing to share with her just yet.
“I was visiting Scarlett,” I tell her, walking into my small two-bedroom apartment and heading right toward the kitchen.
“Have you visited him today?”
I flinch.
It hurts me when she does this. She brings guilt into my life. She makes me feel bad for trying to fix myself. For trying to make something of myself. She knows I carry blame. She knows I’ll never recover. So she pokes the most sensitive parts of me until they’re bleeding.
“Not yet,” I say softly. “I was planning on going over this afternoon.”
“Amalie, you’re the only person he has. You owe it to him to make visiting your first priority.”
She knows nothing.
Nothing of what it’s like to go in there and hear his abuse. I get better, for a few hours, when my music takes me away, and then he rips me to shreds in a matter of seconds. His scorn. His angry words. His bitter attitude. Everything about being near him kills something inside of me.
I might deserve it, but I’m tired of it.
“He doesn’t want me there,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice calm and gentle. I don’t want to fight; I’m so tired of fighting.
She scowls at me. “Of course he doesn’t. Would you want someone around that did that to you? But it’s beside the point, you owe him. I’ll take you to visit now.”
I swallow, pain and guilt swarming my chest. I live with it daily, but when she’s here, she makes it so much worse. The worst part, is she supposed to be my mother. Isn’t it her job to be on my side, even when I’m wrong, even when I’ve done something that is unforgivable? She’s supposed to have my back through thick and thin. But she doesn’t. That hurts more than she’ll ever know.
