Page 12 of Unmasked Prophecy
“Why are you doing this for me?” I ask.
“Everyone deserves joy in their lives.”
We finish our ice cream and get back onto the bike, riding for another hour until we pull up to the beach. Long, wide, empty. The ocean roars like it’s trying to swallow the sky, and I can smell the salt in the air. The sand is golden yellow, and it stretches for miles either side, with the occasional pile of large rocks that the waves crash up against.
Oh.
It's beautiful.
I waste no time getting off the bike and flicking my shoes off before running towards it. The very moment my toes sink into the cool sand, I laugh loudly. It tickles, and yet it’s so soft and satisfying. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stay here forever.
Moving forward, I stop where the water reaches the sand, and let it trickle over my feet, the soft waves fading to smaller ones by the time they reach me. The salt stings my eyes a little, but I have no intention of moving. Reaching down, I pick up a shell in my fingers and stare down at it.
The world holds so many beautiful things, and I’ve been denied all of them.
“Guessin’ you like it?” Talon murmurs, stepping up beside me.
“I love it,” I cry, spinning around and throwing my arms around him without thought.
His arms wrap around me, too, and I jerk back the second I realize what I have done. He doesn’t release me, and instead I find myself inches from his face, his eyes narrowing in on mine, his breath tickling my lips. I gasp, the realization that I am so close sending a thrill through me.
I hold my breath, unsure if he’s going to kiss me or if he’s going to turn away.
“You ever been kissed before?”
His voice is husky and thick. I bite my lip.
I haven’t been kissed. Kissing is passionate and not for the world I was raised in. But having sex to make babies was permitted and forced if the cult picked a person they deemed fit to reproduce with one of the women. Like an arranged marriage with a horrifying twist.
I shake my head.
Talon releases me. “Then I’m not goin’ to be the one to take that moment from you.”
He steps away and my heart sinks.
Did I want Talon to kiss me?
Dammit, I think I did.
THE LOW HUM OF VOICESin the clubhouse pulls me from my thoughts as I drift down the hall, curiosity winning over the part of me that wanted to stay hidden. I haven’t seen Talon since yesterday on the beach, and my gut twists with unease—the kind that makes me feel a deep sense of shame. I feel horrified about the way I acted. I hate that I looked at him with such longing when I hugged him.
He made it clear it wasn’t going to be him that gave me anything other than friendship when he told me he wouldn’t be my first kiss. That stung, mostly because of the shame that continually swirls around in my chest when I think about it. He feels sorry for me, and that’s all there is to it. He wants to help a broken girl, and I took everything the wrong way.
Maybe I am just a broken girl. The fact that I thought he might want to kiss me makes me feel more broken than I ever have in my life.
I step into the large, open room in the middle of the building where the bikers tend to hang around, drinking and smoking, conducting business and playing pool. There is a bar right in the middle, and Mera has offered me a position while I’m here, to earn some of my own money. I might just take her up on that.
In the middle of the room, I see Kael, Zane, and Knox sitting around a heavy wooden table cluttered with empty beer bottles, maps, and papers scattered in front of them. They’re discussing something, and whatever it is, it has their faces scrunched with concentration. All three men look up when I enter.
I pause, swallowing, not sure if I’m interrupting something I shouldn’t be.
Kael—Thorn—is the first to speak. “Mornin’, darlin’. Didn’t think you were up yet.” His tone is always calm, sometimes playful, and he is definitely one of the easier members to talk to. He never seems unkind and always has time for me.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I admit. My voice is smaller than I want it to be, but none of them comment on it or even seem to care.
They probably see me exactly how Talon does.Weak.
Knox—Havoc—nudges a chair out with his boot. Now him, he scares me. He has a deep darkness that I can’t quite put my finger on. I wouldn’t want to cross him in an empty street at night. Absolutely not. “You can sit. This involves you, like it or not.”
