NICHOLAS
The riding lesson was an apology.
Educational. Instructional. Disguised well enough. But the moment she smiled, really smiled… I knew what it was. I just didn’t know why the hell I was doing it.
I hadn’t felt guilt in years. Not real guilt. And yet there it was, gnawing at the edges like a hungry rat.
She didn’t know I’d watched her. That I’d seen her fall apart with my name on her lips. That should’ve thrilled me, hell, it did but instead of pride, there was a flicker of shame. I’d invaded her privacy. Not exactly new for me, but this time it felt… different.
Weird. Dangerous. I was going soft. And softness got men like me killed. I needed blood. Bruises. Noise. Something to drown the silence creeping in.
I grabbed my keys and left the house, hopped on my bike, and peeled
