Semua Bab Raven's MC Series; Marlowe & Torin -Book One of the series: Bab 1 - Bab 10

My fingers didn’t rush. Even though I wasn’t proud of the situation I was in, I’d been waiting for him to come back for three days now, spending the last three nights thinking about whether he was alive or dead. Setting my hand on his chest like it was routine, like I did this for any man with enough cash and an ego, I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest, the solid feel of his heartbeat. Beneath my touch, he didn’t move, didn’t even shift. Moving slowly around him, I let my fingers wander: over muscle, across his back. God. He felt good. Too good. I knew I shouldn’t want to touch him like I was, but I did, I had for years. In fact, I’d wanted something from him before I’d even understood what I’d wanted, or that wanting someone in this world meant they could use it against you. With slow movements, I allowed my nails to trace up his spine and into his hair. Stepping in front of him again, close enough my thighs brushed his knees, I waited for a reaction, but gained no

~MARLOWE~“Please. Torin. Just a little,” I begged not even recognizing my own voice. It sounded thin, like it was coming from somewhere behind me instead of out of my mouth.“I can’t…I just need…a little,” I pleaded.My legs wouldn't stop moving, and I kept shifting, standing, sitting, then standing again. My skin felt wrong, too tight, too loud: like it didn’t fit.Everything ached. I wouldn’t call it soreness, not even tiredness, it was deeper than that. Almost as if my bones were trying to turn inside out. Even my teeth hurt…my freaking teeth. Who even knew that was possible?Sixteen hours; I’d counted every fucking one of them. Then I’d stopped counting and started again. Sixteen hours plus and my body was staging a revolt.Torin sat at the table, laptop open. I could hear the tap of the keys: the sound had drilled itself into my skull.He looked…normal. Like this was manageable, like I wasn’t shaking hard enough that my fingers wouldn’t close properly. “Will you look at me?” I sn

Hours later, I was working the bar, drug-free and feeling better than I had in a long time as I handed out drinks, sandwiches, and fried foods. Most of the members who hadn't gone on the run with the others, were older, but not so old they couldn't take care of business at home if needed. They had served the cause and earned an easier lifestyle. They still wore their Kuttes, but slowed reflexes and achy bones, as well bad eyesight, had allowed them the slower pace of protecting the compound, rather than being in the thick of the high-intensity and dangerous runs. Dad's Charter moved a lot of merchandise, anything from guns to drugs, so in many cases, it was the younger members who made these types of runs. I had just finished pulling a beer off tap, when I heard commotion outside the bar, and as I slid the glass toward Jerky, named so because he loved beef jerky, Dillon and a few of the members pushed into the bar. My eyes immediately caught the blood stains on their clothing. Damn

The little things had finally begun to matter again. The sound of birdsong, the feel of crisp cotton sheets upon my skin, the laugh of others—there was a time I'd hated the fact anyone could find such joy within their life to laugh. I'd hated the happiness within their hearts, which had allowed them to feel what I couldn't, as my world had been dark, haunted. However, even the darkest of hours can become full of light again with time. That's what happened to me—no, it didn't come overnight, or even within days. Weeks hadn't even covered it, for that matter. No, it was more like months.The rowdy crowd of the bar I worked at had helped; added to that, had been the persistence of a good friend. The mending of my shredded heart had come in increments, but it had come—mostly, because of the man sitting in front of me. Each time I'd bury myself in the hole I'd dug and begin throwing dirt on top of myself, he'd drag me out of it, kicking and screaming, as wiping the dirt off, he'd shake life

Burdock’s head snapped back at the blow, and his chair went sliding backwards. Hitting the askew edge of a throw rug, the chair tipped over, landing him on the floor with a loud thud.With a string of curse words, he shoved himself upright, righted the chair, then turned so he was facing me.“Okay,” he bit out, rolling his shoulder once like he was working the hit out of it. “I’ll give you that one.”His gaze locked on mine, sharp, furious…something else under it I didn’t want to name.“You are one of the best OP’s I have ever seen,” he continued, voice low but carrying weight, “and you are fucking killing yourself.”I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t give him anything.“You’ve become a problem for the other members,” he went on, stepping closer now, boots heavy against the concrete. “And you damn well know it. I had to do something, Torin. I was losing you.”A humorless breath left me. “You don’t lose me.”“The hell I don’t,” Burdock snarled.That came out fast, sharp, too close to t