“How are you doing, Tor?”

I tense when I hear Wolf. I fight to hide my irritation from him. It’s not fair. It’s just that he seems to check on me every hour on the hour. I get it. He’s worried about me. It’s not even that he’s wrong to feel like that, because I do feel like I’m falling apart. I don’t like being reminded that I’m as fragile as glass.

Cracked glass…waiting to shatter.

“I’m fine,” I lie. The words feel so heavy it’s hard to force them out.

I avoid Wolf’s eyes and instead keep staring out my bedroom window, giving him my back. He comes up behind me and it takes everything in me not to jerk away when his hands drop down on my shoulders. I can see his face reflecting in the glass.

Wolf’s a good-looking man. He’s fifteen years older than me, but a blind woman would know his appeal. He’s got warm brown hair the color of chocolate that’s cut short and choppy and kind of lays around his head and looks easy and permanently windblown. He’s got a scruffy beard that shows more gray in spots, which to be honest, gives him even more sex appeal. Plus, the beard is shorn close enough that it doesn’t take away from any of his features. His face shows age, but even that can be seen as sexy. From the laugh lines around his eyes to the creases around his nose and dimples, he’s got everything in him to make a woman weak in the knees. His lips are full and round and seem to stay in a permanent smirk…

Except for now.

Since my father died, Wolf is somber, concerned and protective—which is nice, but somehow adds to my misery.

“Torrent…” he whispers and I close my eyes as a wave of misery assails me.

“I’m okay, Wolf.”

“Baby, you’re not sleeping…”

“Sleep is overrated. Do I need to do anything for tonight?”

“Of course not. It’s club business. It’s been handled.”

“I am the club now. I’m all that’s left of…” I stop to take a breath and let it shudder through my body while I get control of my emotions. “I’m all that’s left of my dad.”

“He would be proud of you.”

His words are hollow—then again, everything is now.

“I’ll be ready,” I assure him, dreading what’s to come—hating it.

“You don’t have to do this, Torrent. No one would think less of you.”

“Except me,” I respond with a tired shrug. “I will be at the part…party tonight,” I tell him, choking on the word.

I know it’s the club’s way, but having a party to celebrate my dad seems wrong. There’s nothing to celebrate about what happened to him—especially since Crash is the reason he’s dead. I want to scream that from the top of the roof. I want to scream it at Wolf, but I don’t. I just need to get through this. I need to be what Dad would expect—to make him proud. That’s all I can do for him now and I owe him so much more.

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, baby,” he says kissing my temple and squeezing my shoulders. I close my eyes at his tenderness. I don’t deserve it.

I’m the reason my father is dead.

I wrap my arms around my waist wishing I could sleep through everything.

“We’re going to do the ride to the cemetery today. We’ll leave around five. You’ll be on the back of my bike, Torrent.”

“Wolf… I’m not… I mean I’m not…”

“And you don’t have to be, baby. Not now.”

He gives me one last squeeze and then leaves. I listen to his footsteps and once they fade away I sink to the floor. The view outside slowly blurs as the tears begin to fall.