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I open my eyes and meet his intense stare. “Okay.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here and hit up the cabins. No one’s there and we could use some time away.”

“I have a few days, but that’s it, and I need to let Pops know. If I don’t show for a few days with no explanation, he’ll freak.”

“Yeah, I don’t want a pissed off Hoss coming for me.” Echo stands, throws a few twenties on the table, and holds out his hand.

I want to prolong the inevitable, but I know it won’t be possible. He’s got his mind set on talking things out now. He’ll be like a dog with a bone. I rise reluctantly, and follow him back through the restaurant and out the front to his bike.

~~

A few hours later, we’re pulling up in front of the cabin. We have enough clothes and supplies to last us for the next couple of days. The three bedroom, two bath structure was painted slate grey with navy shutters. It has a nice deck with patio furniture I’ve spent many summer days lounging on. I climb off the bike, and gather our groceries from the saddlebag. The cold cuts, bread, mayo, and instant oatmeal are more than enough.

Echo hefts the saddlebags, tosses them over his shoulders, and follows me up the wooden walk way to the front door. After entering a code on the box hanging off the doorknob he retrieves the key.

My palms are clammy, and my throat is constricting—this is the moment I’ve been dreading for years. When I have to come clean about my past issues, and just how his father and our relationship had affected me.

He opens the door and stifling air greets us. “Let’s open up the windows, turn on the AC, and put away the groceries,” Echo says.

I jump on the chance to immerse myself in busy work, taking my time walking through the rooms and opening the windows on one side of the home. Once I fill the fridge and cabinets, I sit on the black leather couch and rest my hands in my lap.

Echo walks over waving two bottles of beer. No matter what, there’s always drinks in the cabin. The priorities of men. “I figure we could use this.”

“You figured, right,” I reply, holding out my hand. I grip the cool bottle, dragging my finger through the condensation.

“Where do you want to start?” Echo asks, sitting in the seat beside me.

“I guess at the beginning. What you all thought of as a small thing easily ignored or overlooked was soul destroying. It was more than disdain, glares, and sneers. I never understood him when I was younger. Then I got old enough to get it. I’ll never forget the way Stone punished them both the last time Dad got into it with Mouth. I didn’t want to get him in trouble, or make him lose standing with the club. It went against everything I’d ever been taught. Club comes first, and women don’t get involved in club business or come between brothers.”

“It’s different when it’s a child, D’Rose. You had to know that.”

“Why? I knew I was different. That the rules were different for me. I feared the consequences, so I kept quiet. It became my normal mode of operation.”

“Jesus, what did he do?”

I swallow. “He never put his hands on me. I think we both knew that was a line he couldn’t cross. I would’ve had to tell then. But he did intimidate the hell out of me. He would wait until he caught me alone and unleash hell. I’ll never forget the way he crowded me, ignoring the personal space rule. My nightmares are full of him larger than life, hovering over me, his tepid breath blowing against my face while I made myself as small as possible. Sometimes, his racial slurs would chase into my consciousness. I wondered if everyone felt that way.”

“Fuck, babe,” Echo says. He covers his face.

I glance away as the shame threatens to roll in. I know it’s not my fault, but this is the first time speaking of it with someone inside our circle. It feels taboo. In many ways, our rules are damn near a religion. There are rules we don’t break. It’s imbedded in us so deeply from the minute we’re cognate, going against the grain feels wrong. Even if it’s self-persevering.

“Once I got it in my head everyone was against me, I felt alone and isolated. I had Blue, and she understood somewhat. Yet, it wasn’t the same. No one else in the Kings has brown skin. I could see it with my own eyes, so the thoughts in my head didn’t seem that far-fetched. When I got to high school, things reached a boiling point. Kids are cruel, and the boys seemed to think we were strippers in training. It was a hell away from home. Having that last haven destroyed did something to me. I hit my breaking point. I grew reckless, and started acting out, doing anything I could to find release from the never ceasing pressures, doubts, and self-loathing built up over the years.” My mouth grows dry. I take a long pull from my longneck bottle.

Echo shifts beside me.

I can feel his gaze on me, but I can’t look at him. I have to purge. To get this secret out. “When I was teetering on the edge, I found a way. A patch to fix the gaping hole threatening to consume me. I started to cut.”

“What?” Echo says.

“Please let me finish. If you interrupt me, I won’t be able to,” I whisper.

He growls, but goes silent.

“It started of small a cut here, a cut there … always some place no one would see. On the inside of upper leg, my arms when it was cold out and I could justify long sleeves. I was careful. Then it grew and I started being marked up with linear lines. My dad—he caught me and got me some help. It got better for a while, but I was close to relapsing when you came and got me at the party. God, you changed so much without knowing. It was like, you made it okay for me to fully embrace myself as I was. It’s silly now, saying it out loud. How could one person do that? You knew me, from the beginning and yet, you saw value. It helped reinforce the same concepts I was working on with my counselor.”

“How did I not know any of this, D’Rose?” Echo asks.

“Because I didn’t want you to. It was before you, and you know how the club feels about shrinks. There’s too great of a risk something will slip through in the sessions. Dad and I kept this wrapped up tighter than a drum.”


Tags: Shyla Colt Kings of Chaos Erotic