Reaper

2. Broken Inside

TWO

BROKEN INSIDE

Ava

“Don’t wake her.”

“Why? What if she has a concussion? It’s been twelve hours.”

My eyes creep open at Elena’s voice. The beat of the drums and guitar riffs are coming from the music downstairs. It takes a moment to get my bearings until the memories of last night hit me.

I scan my surroundings. The room is small and plain, with painted white walls and an old wooden chest at the end of the bed, against the wall. I’m in a gigantic bed with faded blue sheets.

“You saw her. She needs all the rest she can get.”

I notice the voice. It’s Jake. However, his nickname at the wedding was Axle.

“You can come in,” I say, my voice hoarse. There’s a light thudding in my head.

The door opens slowly, and Elena’s head pops around it, a frown on her face.

“Please don’t give me the sympathy look,” I tell her while she closes the door.

She blows out a breath. “It’s not sympathy.” She peers at the ground. “I hate seeing you hurting like this.”

She sits on the edge of the bed next to me, her eyes traveling around my face. “You know me. I hate conflict, and I’m not one to wish harm on someone but . . .” She blinks furiously, as if trying not to cry.

She’s such a gentle soul, and I have no idea how she ended up here, of all places. I put my hand on hers and squeeze.

“. . . I hope he gets hit by a bus or something.”

I laugh, then flinch. “Don’t make me laugh. My ribs hurt.”

“What happened to your ribs?”

“I fell awkwardly when he hit me. I wasn’t expecting it, but, god, it’s painful.”

She frowns. “I never imagined him to be violent, but I thought you could have done better.”

When I think back to the last couple of years, even before he lost his job, it feels like one hand was around my throat and the other squeezing my heart. Nothing I did was ever good enough.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now . . . Anyway, how did you get a biker as a husband? I never got to ask at the wedding.” We didn’t get to spend much time together, and when I was coming back from the restroom, Beau saw me talking to a biker. That was it. We had to go home.

She gives me a sad smile. “We met through a dating app, and the rest is history. Now, I wouldn’t say I belong here”—her eyes dim a little before she keeps going—“but I belong with him.”

“I’m happy you found love.”

Three loud knocks come from the door. “Lunch is ready.”

Elena looks at it. “I won’t be long.” She then looks at me. “Did you want to come down, or did you want me to get a plate and bring it up for you?”

I pull the sheet up over my chest. “I can’t . . .”

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring it up for you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and it makes me cringe.

“There’s no need to apologize,” she whispers.

Usually, everything is my fault. “Old habits, I guess.”

Her frown deepens. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

“Oh, and”—she cringes and looks to the floor—“the bathroom is to the right at the end of the hallway. I put a towel and some clothes on the chest of drawers there.” She points to it.

Swallowing thickly, I nod, too choked up to speak.

As she turns the handle and opens the door, she looks at me over her shoulder. “We spoke to Reaper last night and you can stay, but if you could help cook and clean like you said you would, that would be great.” She doesn’t wait for an answer. She gives me a small smile and closes the door softly.

As I sit up in bed, pain assaults me from different areas. Everything aches. My mind wanders off to Beau. Was he angry when he didn’t find me next to him, or would he even care? I grunt. Of course he would care. He would have no one to take his anger out on.

I pull the sheet off myself, but as soon as I stand, stiffness burns my body. When I take my first step, searing pain shoots up from my ankle and my jaw clenches. I hobble over to get the towel, clothes, and my bag and then limp over to the door. My hand rests on the doorknob, and before I open it, I peer down. My jeans have dirt caked at the knees where I fell over, and my coat has a swipe of blood and dirt on it.

I open the door and peek through the crack to see if anyone is around, then step outside and pull it closed behind me. Every step is agony, and I note to ask Elena for painkillers. As soon as I get in the bathroom, I turn the lock and place the towel and clothes on the towel rack.

Sliding my arms out of the coat, I suck in a breath through my teeth. I take my shirt off and undo the button of my jeans and pull them over my hips before stepping out of them. Inspecting my body, I see my palms are red and one has a scab. The side of my body is a mix of blue-and-purple bruises. A large deep purple one is on my hip and another up the side of my ribs. I touch the tender area.

When I look in the mirror, tears stream down my face. I’m a mess. My left eye is red and purple, and my cheek is more of a swirl of purple and blue.

I don’t recognize the person in front of me. Bile rises, and I bend over the toilet in time to vomit. With the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth. I take my underwear off and step into the hot water. I cry in the shower because no one can see my tears, my weakness.

Once I’m out and have finished drying myself, knowing that my sister and I are different sizes, I lift the first piece of clothing in curiosity. She should know I wouldn’t be able to get my boobs into her shirts and my ass into any pants she owns. I’m relieved that, instead, it’s a burgundy dress, and up against me, it looks loose, so it may even fit. As I’m getting changed, a bang on the door startles me.

“What is taking so long? Hurry up, I need to take a piss!”

My breathing quickens, and my heart thrums as I hastily pull the dress over my head and grab my towel and dirty clothes. I open the door and am met by a handsome man. His face morphs from annoyed to curious as he raises a brow and looks me over from head to toe.

“Excuse me,” I mutter. I bow my head, waiting for him to move from the doorway.

He remains still, and when I glance up, he’s grinning. “Ava, is it?”

My grip on my clothes tightens as I clear my throat, wondering how he knows my name already. “Yes.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Elena says from nearby. She bumps him aside with her hip, allowing me room to move past.

“I was just getting to know her.”

I turn, watching their interaction. Elena shakes her head. “No, no, and no.”

He winks at me. “Later, Ava.”

She groans and follows me into the room. “There’s your plate.” She signals to the bed. “Sorry it took so long. I was helping to dish out the food, and those guys just didn’t stop eating. I’m surprised they aren’t fat, to be honest.”

“It’s okay. I needed a shower anyway.”

She tugs at my dirty clothes. “Here, let me wash them.”

I pull back. “I can do it.”

She pulls them toward her. “Stop being so stubborn. Let me look after you for at least one day.”

My shoulders fall, and I reluctantly pass them to her. The side of her mouth lifts victoriously.

“Did you want me to organize a doctor to come and check up on you?”

I’m quick to answer. “No. It looks worse than it is.”

Her brow furrows. “Are you sure?”

“It’s okay. They are only bruises. They will heal in no time.”

“What about getting a protective order? I can ask the club’s attorney about it.”

I shake my head. “I’m away from him now. That’s all that matters.”

“I can get Jake to sort him out for you.”

“Elena,” I warn, “please stop.”

She sighs noisily. “Okay . . . I’ll wash these for you. I’ll be back.”

“Just chuck them out.”

“What? Why?” She looks at my clothes. “The dirt will come out.”

“I want nothing that reminds me of him. Can we go shopping so I can get some clothes?”

Her eyes dart to my bruises. “I’ll organize the clothes. You just relax.” She forces a smile.

After she leaves, I get up and flick the lock shut, then go over to the window and pull at it to ensure it’s locked as well. After finishing the plate of food, I lie down and roll over onto my side. Still feeling drained, I close my eyes and fall back asleep.