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1
BLAKE
It's early morning as I move soundlessly through the clubhouse, doing a walkthrough and checking security cameras before stopping outside Grey's bedroom and rapping my knuckles against the door. I wait for a beat until I hear his fist thump against the wall. It's a system of communication we've utilized over the past few years when I'm leaving the compound without making him drag his ass out of bed.
I stroll down the hall, but before leaving the clubhouse, I detour toward Ember's room. Only a couple of hours ago, I left her room after waking up from a dream I couldn't shake off.
I quietly crack open the door, peering inside. The sound of the oscillating fan fills the room, and the breeze it's creating causes the sheer curtains covering the window beside her bed to sway and the brown-tinged gray moonlight to ripple like waves on the surface of the bedroom wall. My eyes land on Ember's sleeping form, lying partially on her stomach with one leg exposed from beneath the covers, revealing the trail of flowers tattooed down her outer thigh.
I'm pathetic.
"Blake?"
Shit. I close my eyes, kicking myself for checking on her in the first place.
"Everything okay?" Her feathery voice fills the room with concern.
Is everything okay?Now there's a loaded question.
"Everything is fine. Making rounds and checking on everyone before heading out."
Ember throws her covers to the side, slides out of bed, and heads in my direction, her bare feet shuffling across the floor. She's wearing white panties and a cropped tee shirt featuring a T-Rex with the wordRawrpulled taut across her tits. She pulls the door open a bit more and peers up at me.
"Couldn't sleep?" She yawns, and I feel terrible that I disturbed her.
I can't help but continue to take her in. How can one woman be this goddamn beautiful? Ember's hypnotic gray eyes stare into mine as she waits for me to respond. Strands of hair stick to her long thick lashes as she blinks. I want to reach out and brush the loose locks of hair from her face but restrain myself.
My heart starts thumping against my ribcage. If she only knew what being near her does to my insides.
"Yeah," I answer. The truth is, sleep never comes easy for me and hasn't for years. The only time I find any peace is when Ember plays her music. "I better get goin'."
Ember leans her shoulder against the door frame, not once taking her attention off my face. "Want some coffee before you go?"
Fuck, I love how thoughtful she always is."No, babe."
A jolt of electricity travels across my skin when she touches my forearm. "I worry about you, Blake. You haven't been sleeping much lately—less than usual. Why don't you come…"
"Go back to bed." I cut her off, knowing what she’s about to say. I swallow the feelings her touch ignites and step back, putting space between us while her hand falls from my arm. We've been playing this game for a long time. Much longer than I care to acknowledge. The tension between us is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, and it's becoming this force of nature that I fight harder against with each passing day.
My mouth goes dry as the thoughts inside my head try like hell to force their way past my lips while Ember looks up at me. She knows I'm fighting myself but says nothing more. Instead, she casts her eyes to the floor and closes her door.
I press my palm to the door, planting my feet, fighting the overwhelming urge to be on the other side.You can't go there.
Ultimately, ignoring every cell in my body telling me to crawl back in bed beside Ember, I walk away.
Sometime later, I wipe sweat from my brow, stepping back from the project I've been working on for the past week and scrutinizing every detail carved into the red oak. The client from Alaska commissioned a life-sized replica of a Yukon wolf. Satisfied with my progress, I place the carving tools on the workstation.
A gust of wind blows through the barn, stirring the sawdust and various sizes of wood chips across the dirt floor. Walking to the small cooler on the ground near the barn's opening, I flip back the lid, pluck out a cold bottle of water, and down half while strolling outside.
I sit on the stump of a large tree I had to cut down a couple of weeks ago. Heavy gray clouds hang low in the distance, blotting out the just-risen sun, and the soft rosy hues it casts across the sky muddle into more somber shades. I can see from the top of this hill for miles, overlooking the treetops to a lake in the distance.
Aside from the trees, all that stands on the property is the old barn behind me. I used the money from selling sculptures to purchase my little slice of heaven, and as soon as I save enough, I'll also build a home here.
I lift the filtered end of a cigarette to my lips, light it, and pull in a lungful of nicotine. I hold my breath until my chest burns before exhaling. Considering where I started, I'm a lucky motherfucker to be where I am today. If it weren't for Jake and the others coming into my life when they did, I would probably be dead.
The club means everything to me. I have brothers who would lay down their lives for me. And I would do the same for them. Being a member of Kings of Retribution gives me the purpose and strength to fight. My commitment to the club and my brothers goes beyond loyalty, because they gave a damn about my life when I couldn't. They are my family.
I was chasing death at one point in my past. Existing felt like this massive weight bearing down on me. I was suffocating. Addiction slowly sucked the soul out of me. For a long time, I was a dead man walking. Honestly, I preferred it that way, because feeling anything other than nothing was better than reality and the pain I was hiding. That's the way addiction works. It feeds off all the insecurities, negative energy, and trauma a body is holding on to and tricks a person into thinking they can't live without it. The addiction gives a false sense of security, but no matter how good it feels during the high, that warm embrace is a lie.
