Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
But was it? The weight of what Andy had planned to do with Zelda pressed down on me, suffocating. I’d almost waited too long. One more day, and my daughter would have been gone forever. “I heard him,” I whispered, watching the kids from across the room. “On the phone. He was going to --” The words caught in my throat. “He was going to give Zelda away. To pay some kind of debt.”
Violet’s sharp intake of breath was the only indication she’d heard me. When I glanced at her, her face had hardened, a flash of something fierce crossing her features before she controlled it. “Then you got out just in time,” she said, her voice low and steady. “And you’re here now. We are more than capable and happy to help you. You’re not alone anymore. Not if you don’t want to be.”
Across the room, Zelda had managed to hustle Caleb into giving her and Kira the largest slices of pizza. I watched as Kira actually smiled -- a small, hesitant thing -- when Caleb said something I couldn’t hear.
“The girls seem comfortable with Caleb,” Violet said, leaning against the edge of the folding table. “That’s a good sign. He’s got a way with the kids who come through here.”
I nodded, running my fingers along a shelf of toiletry items. “Zelda doesn’t trust easily. Neither does Kira.” My throat tightened. “It’s been a long time since they’ve had the chance to just be kids.”
Violet smiled. “That’s why we’re here. To give you a safe place where you can rest, decide what your next move needs to be.” She paused for a moment, hesitating before she continued. “You’re probably wondering about the MC connection, right? Most women who come here do. The guys know and do their best to make small, frequent appearances so everyone gets used to them. Usually accompanied by a lot of food.” She smiled as if remembering something amusing.
I hadn’t asked directly, but the question had been gnawing at me since we arrived. A women’s shelter backed by a motorcycle club seemed like a contradiction in terms. “It crossed my mind,” I admitted. “When I think of bikers, I don’t usually think ‘women’s advocates.’”
Violet’s laugh was soft, tinged with something that sounded like hard-won wisdom. “I used to think the same thing. Until they saved me and Caleb.”
I looked at her, really looked, and saw something in her eyes I recognized all too well. The shadow of someone who had survived when she didn’t believe she could. I sucked in a breath, wanting to ask what happened but not being able to voice the question. I had a feeling I was going to hear a story similar to my own.
“Caleb’s dad was… mean. He had money and thought his money would buy him whatever he wanted, basically. Caleb walked in on Doug one night when he was drunk, lost his temper, and beat me. My son heard and saw most of what happened and threatened to kill Doug if I didn’t leave him that night.”
I listened intently as Violet paused, gathering herself before continuing her story. There was something in her eyes, a haunted look I recognized all too well. The same look I saw in my own mirror on those rare occasions I dared to really see myself. She tucked a strand of her vibrant red hair behind her ear and took a deep breath.
“I grabbed what I could carry, took Caleb, and we ran.” She glanced over at her son, who was still chatting easily with the twins. “That’s when we met Riot. Lana Thompson, a local attorney, got us a hearing with a local judge about emergency custody. Riot came with us to the courthouse. He stood by Caleb while he faced his father in court.” She gave me a watery smile as she brushed a tear from her cheek. “Anyway, they’re all good men. Knuckles doesn’t let anyone in he doesn’t fully trust. And they are all super protective. They saved us,” Violet said, her eyes warm with emotion. “Gave me and my son a home, and I couldn’t have asked for better role models than these guys.”
Just then, the side door burst open with a bang that made me flinch. “Sorry!” An enormous man shouldered his way through, arms laden with what looked like a dozen grocery bags. His massive frame seemed comically burdened as he balanced the precarious load, his biceps straining against his T-shirt sleeves. I couldn’t see his face, but I was pretty sure it was Riot.
“Damnit, Vi,” he grunted, staggering toward the kitchen area. “Next time make a smaller list or come help carry this shit.”
“Or you could make two trips like a normal person,” Violet called after him, not bothering to hide her amusement.
Riot deposited the avalanche of bags onto the nearest table with an audible sigh of relief. He turned to face us. What struck me most about the man from the first moment I’d met him was how his eyes softened when his gaze landed on Violet. This man adored her. And she felt the same about him.