The Ruthless Biker's Ex-Convict Bride

Chapter 10

Wren’s Point of View

The entire time back to the house, we don’t talk. I drive Kara’s truck and don’t ask Ash anything because I can’t stop thinking about Elias and that woman, Miranda. She is everything I wanted to be.

I don’t dwell too much on it because I have so many things I need to do. So when we get back into the house, the first thing I do is sit Ash down to check the wounds that tore open again during our exit. Between the chain marks and whatever that asshole poured into him, it’s worse than I hoped.

I grab supplies from the kitchen, my hands steady on autopilot while my mind’s still running through everything that happened tonight on a loop I can’t shut off.

“Take off your shirt,” I order without looking at him, making sure I lay out everything I’m using on the table. I need to check him. I need to make sure he is stitched up. Again.

Halfway through redressing him, Ash speaks up. “Who was that guy? Back there. The one running things?”

My hands pause for half a second. I keep working, don’t let it show. I don’t want him to see what Elias can do to me.

“Wren,” he speaks again, his soft, calm voice sending a chill down my spine. “Who is he?”

He never uses my name. He never speaks, just grunts and nods his head.

"President of Copperhead MC," I say. "Someone I used to know. Nothing more. Don't read too much into it."

He doesn't push on that, which I'm grateful for. Instead, he switches angles.

“What does claimed actually mean? The word you used?” he asks.

That catches me off guard more than his first question did. I think it over while I tape the gauze down. I swallow the lump that’s been in my throat.

"It's the one commitment nobody in that world takes back once it's made," I say, refusing to let my voice break. "Usually there's ink to prove it. It's supposed to mean something real."

He sits with that for a second before finally speaking again. “So what you told them was a lie.”

"Yes." No point dressing it up. "A means to an end. It got you out."

"And now?" He watches me steady, no judgment in it, just a question that needs an actual answer. "Are we still keeping it up?"

That makes me stop wrapping the gauze around his waist. I run the math fast in my head—Elias already knows I’m back, and word that I’ve got somebody is probably moving through town faster than I can chase it down. If I don’t do this with Ash, Elias won’t give up and will definitely put me in more trouble for lying to him.

“Yes,” I say finally, looking at Ash as I add, “At least in front of everyone else.”

Ash nods slowly, his eyes still locked on me, and I inhale sharply. “What does that actually look like?”

I think about it. "Enough that people believe it's real."

Something shifts in his expression, and I see a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement? Excitement? It’s gone as fast as it came. “I already do.”

I don’t bother asking him what he meant by that and move on to the next roll of gauze.

***

The next day, Kara shows up for rent like she does every week, grinning before she’s even through the door. I step aside, and she enters the house.

"Word travels fast," she says, delighted. "Whole town already knows you've got somebody now. And not one to mess with, apparently."

“Great,” I say, not looking up from the first-aid supplies. I’m making sure I have what I need because it looks like, with Ash, I’m going to be restocking frequently.

"It's good news, Wren. Finally something to keep that supervisor type off you for good."

I don’t bother correcting her because the asshole is somewhere no one will be seeing him again.

After I hand her the envelope, I go back to work. I have to constantly listen as people talk about my supervisor, whom they haven’t seen in days. I pretend not to hear their conversations, and once I’m done with my day, I head back home.

I’m through the door when I find Ash trying to fix a broken pipe, and some of the things I didn’t bother fixing when I moved in are being moved.

He even stacked the books that were by the bookcase, which I never bothered to touch.

The place looks so different now.

“Can we talk?” I ask him. He turns to me, grunting.

“It won’t take long,” I insist. He turns to look at me, his eyes locking on mine for a minute, then nods his head.

I want to run the plan by him. “We need to plan how we are going to act once we’re out there,” I start, and he just looks at me.

“I’m a very affectionate person when I’m with someone. So when we’re out there, I might touch you or hold you. Is that fine with you?”

He just shrugs, and I shake my head, hoping I never have to ask him to kiss me or anything.

I go through all the things we might have to do, and he doesn’t argue, just agrees. No objections.

I take that as a win. If we're family behind closed doors, there's no reason to be careful about anything here.

The next morning, I walk out in nothing but a sleep shirt, my hair a mess, and head straight for the kitchen. I don’t notice Ash already sitting up on the couch he sleeps on, his ears burning red as he stares hard at the wall.

“Good morning,” I say to him and start working on our breakfast. I can feel his eyes on me, but every time I glance at him, he looks away.

When I’m done making breakfast, I bring over two plates, grumbling about the eggs.

He stands up and sits on the chair in front of me, but he won’t stop looking at me. When I notice he isn’t eating, I tap my fork against his plate.

"Eat," I tell him. "You lost enough blood for both of us last night."

Ash eats quietly. His eyes drift to me more than once, and every time I catch him at it, he looks away fast, like he's been caught at something he shouldn't have been doing.

After breakfast, I lean in to check his wounds, all business, zero awareness of how close that puts me. "Looking a lot better," I say, casual, pressing gently at the edge of the stitching.

He doesn't answer. His throat works once, visibly.

I straighten up and pat his shoulder. “You good to clear the table while I grab our delivery?”

He doesn’t respond, so I make my way toward the door. Then his voice comes from behind me.

"Can you put some clothes on?"