Vengeance got back to the clubhouse, went to Constance, but when he found her asleep he left her alone and found a quiet room. He pulled out his cell and stared at it for long seconds.

Enough time has passed.

Pushing aside any anger he held for the fight he’d had with his sister, he dialed her number. His heart was thundering, his need to make things right with the only family he had left riding him hard. But the voicemail kicked on, and he thought about what to say, how to say it.

“Hey there, it’s me, Vengeance.” A moment passed before he continued. “It’s been a while, baby sister, but it’s due time we spoke.” He chuckled humorlessly. “In a way I’m glad I got your voicemail. Makes this a little easier. But makes me seem a little weaker too, I guess.”

He ran a hand over his hair, stared off, and wished he could say these things to her face.

“But I’m sorry for the way I acted, and I know a part of you has to be too. We’ve always been close, always had each other’s backs. At the time I was doing what I thought was best. It’s your life, and you’re an adult. You know what you want. So I’m sorry, because not having you in my life is pretty fucking hard, Renee.”

And that was the truth.

“Give me a call, baby sister. I want to say these things to you, want to make this right again. I want you to meet my woman, want you back in my life. We’re all we have.”

* * *

The pain consumed her, the heat and humidity surrounding her. She was shaking, her hands covering her intimate parts as Craig stood on the other side of her. He was laughing at her, watching her, his gaze raking over her as if he were actually reaching out and touching her.

Constance wanted to throw up, wanted to just run and never look back. But she was frozen, unable to move, unable to even breathe. She was stuck in this whirlwind of emotion: fear anger, disgust, and the need for Vengeance to be here.

But Craig came closer, making her feel cramped, suffocated, and having her fear climb even higher. She tried to scream, but her voice didn’t work. She wanted to lash out and hit Craig, but her limbs were like lead, soldered to her body, covering her intimate parts.

And then he reached out for her, touched her, made her skin crawl. She did scream out then, loud, clear, full of passion.

Constance woke with a start, her heart racing, her breathing sawing in and out of her lungs, burning her from the inside out like flames licking over her, consuming her. Sweat beaded her brow, and when she looked to the side of the bed, hoping Vengeance was there, wanting his comfort, his strong presence, she saw he was absent.

She smoothed her hand over the bed, the sheets cold, letting her know he hadn’t been sleeping beside her all night.

The clock on the bedside table read three in the morning, and although she was exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. Once she was sitting on the edge of the bed, she exhaled, trying to regain her composure and waiting until her heart rate slowed.

She felt on edge, her nightmare coursing through her like a living entity, a reminder of what she’d gone through.

She’d vaguely spoken to Vengeance about what he’d done to Craig, and although he knew she was safe, that Craig couldn’t hurt her anymore, the fact remained Vengeance was distancing himself from her.

He’d become voiceless in their relationship, and she knew it was because he thought he failed her.

She knew that as well as she knew she was alone right now, wanting the man she’d fallen in love with.

Scrubbing a hand over her face, she finally forced herself to stand and walk to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. After turning the light on, she looked at the mess staring back at her. Sweat covered her temple, her hairline was damp, her hair a dark rat’s nest around her head. The bandage on her cheek needed changing, but she hated doing it. But this was her life, and she had to be strong.

Once that bandage was off she stared at the healing wound, the scar that would be left behind not a reminder of her trauma, but of her survival. That’s how she had to look at it, anyway. She turned and looked at the shower, needing to wash away the nightmare she’d had.

And that was just what she did, because after that she and Vengeance needed a serious talk about where their relationship was going. He needed to know that he hadn’t let her down.

He’d saved her life.

Once her shower was done she dried off, got redressed in comfortable clothes, and headed out of the room. The MC, despite it being the middle of the night, still had people up. A few guys were playing poker, the scent of smoke filling the air, the sound of their drunken slurred voices loud despite the early hour.

She moved past them and walked to the back meeting room. She could have called Vengeance, but if he was in the club he couldn’t be far.

She found him, sitting alone, his back to the door.

“Vengeance?” He slowly turned around in the chair, his face looking exhausted, his eyes heavy in appearance. “We should talk.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, we need to.”