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head, and let out a raspy breath.

“When Mountain and his men found me, I begged for them to leave me be. Let me die. I couldn’t take it anymore. They succeeded in finally breaking me and I knew it because heaven help me that someone would find me, I’d be dead on the inside, which I am. I’m broken and covered in so much filth it’s stifling. Even if I wanted to go on with my life, I couldn’t. Not only do I fear them taking me again, but I fear my heart crumbling to pieces that are already shattered. I dare not dream or allow myself to take a chance. It’s better to simply be dead than go out there and live my life only to have it taken from me again.” I finally finish and open my eyes once again, but it’s not Tyres I notice when I do, it’s the man standing behind him.

Fuse.

He’d heard me and from the look on his face, he looked ready to snap.

Chapter Seven

Fuse

When Tyres finally came to me about wanting to speak with Lyrica, to tell her he’s sorry for his part in what happened to her, I wanted to tell him he didn’t have a hand in it. But I know my VP, he gets something in his head, there’s no getting it out.

I followed behind him a few minutes later, wanting to be there in case my woman needed me. I know she thinks I don’t know about her nearly scrubbing her skin off in the shower. I’d seen the redness of her skin when she thinks she’s alone. But unbeknownst to her, there are cameras in the house that feeds to my room in the clubhouse where I work. This gives me peace of mind that I can see her if need be and it’s a good thing because I’ve seen the turmoil inside her.

The seclusion she forces on herself. Angelina is bringing the doctor, that will check out her arm and leg, to the house tomorrow in order to take a look at them.

After listening to her open up to Tyres, I knew why she did this, but it still fuckin’ sucked because I hated she went through the shit at all. My woman suffered and I agree with Tyres when he’s said she needed to find someone to talk to.

Did I think she’d start right then? No, but that doesn’t mean it pisses me off she’s finally talking.

I just wish I could have kept this from happening to her.

Over the past two months, I’ve rarely heard her speak to anyone else. And only a handful of words to me. At night I’ve held her to me while she fought through her nightmares. Each night I’ve laid there hearing her cries and pleas for them to stop.

Not once have I let on to her knowing she speaks of these things in her sleep. I know if I told her, she’d shut down in a heartbeat and that’s not something I want to happen. She’s already too far away.

The only thing that she’s asking for is a sketchbook to doodle in and each morning before heading to the clubhouse to do what I’ve gotta do, I take a peek and some of the shit is fuckin’ epic.

“Fuse,” Lyrica calls my name and draws me out of my head. My thoughts drifting back to what she’d just said.

“Hey, ma douce,” I murmur and make my way closer. Since she’s come home, I’ve not gone back to the fights, but after that shit, I’m gonna have to do something. It’s not like I can go find some bitch to fuck and release the pent-up energy swarming inside me. No, instead, I’ll fight some asshole in the ring to do that. I won’t risk Lyrica in any way and this also includes keeping my needs at bay. The fights will give me what I need for the time being and that’s all I need until she’s ready.

“I . . . Um . . . I’m sorry,” she whispers. This pisses me off because she has nothing to be sorry for and I’ve got to get her to understand she’s got nothing to worry about.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, doing my best not to show her just how pissed I am with what she’s been through this past year.

Yeah, I think it’s definitely time for me to get in on some of those fights.

“Because of everything,” she utters, casting her gaze to the sketch pad in her lap.

Looking from her to Tyres, I speak again. “You mind giving us a bit?’

“Naw, you do what you gotta do. I gotta get back to Wren anyway,” Tyres says, standing and looks to Lyrica. “Remember what I said. You need to talk to someone and if it’s not a professional or one of the ol’ ladies, you can always talk to one of the brothers. We all care for you as one of our own. You’re like a kid sister some of us didn’t have.” With his parting words, my VP turns and leaves, meeting my gaze on the way out. He still feels like shit for what happened to her.

He’ll get over that feeling soon enough. Or at least he will once we get Lyrica past it all.

When the front door shuts, I move in and stand next to the bay window seat. I’m fuckin’ glad to have put it in at the advice of Faith and Angelina both. This is Lyrica’s favorite place to sit.

I pull her sketch pad from her hands and put it down on the seat next to her. I then do something I haven’t done since we’ve been back. Reaching out, I scoot her forward, being watchful of her casted leg and arm. I then sit behind her and pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her chest, holding her to me the way I would in our sleep. When I have

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