Kenny leads me to a small house down the road from the training grounds. I watch him as we go, his shaved head glistening in the sunlight and his full beard slightly moving in the wind. He is a smaller build than many of the men in the pack, but it isn’t surprising since he isn’t a warrior. He’s taller than me, at around 5’10, with deep brown eyes. His ebony skin is dry and worn, indicating how much work he does outside. He’s attractive, sure, but he’s no Jax and holds no actual title. He wouldn’t have the means or resources to take me out of my misery.
Kenny opens the door and ushers me in. I take a step inside and immediately want to leave. This is more like a shack than a house. The room I’m in is incredibly bare. There is an old couch against the wall with a table in front. If this w
