Lahat ng Kabanata ng Raven's MC Series; Marlowe & Torin -Book One of the series: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

~MARLOWE~This was unbearable! Torin had been in surgery for hours and I just kept thinking, hold on, don't let go. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. God and I had never been on close terms. I had long ago decided he didn't exist, but right now, if he truly was there, Torin needed him.So, putting aside all my disbelief in God's existence, I became a hypocrite and prayed, placing all the cards in His hands. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how many times a person could ask the same favor repeatedly. But until I knew Torin was okay, the supposed man upstairs was going to be bombarded with my pleas. My butt had long ago fallen asleep, and standing, I signaled Rook to stay seated when he made to climb to his feet as well. "Stay where you are, I just need to move around a little," I told him. With a quick nod, Rook settled back into his seat, and raising his coffee cup, he sipped at the now luke-warm contents, his eyes following me as I made my way over to a window, peering out o

~MARLOWE~Why was it, I wondered, that I’d spent most of my life confused? Confused about my father. Confused about why love always felt conditional, temporary, like something I had to earn and then still somehow lost. I had never understood why my dad had looked at me like I was a burden instead of a daughter. I’d never understood why my own brother hadn’t loved me enough to give a shit if I died in a ditch somewhere after he’d kicked me out of the club.I hadn’t heard a word from him since.I’d tried to go back once. Just once. I’d stood at the edge of the Sons of Morning Star compound, heart pounding like I was twelve again, begging for approval I already knew I wouldn’t get. They hadn’t even let me through the gate.Now I sat beneath the tree I’d claimed on my third night at the Ravens compound, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around myself, staring into the dark like it might finally offer answers. Torin had been back for weeks now, walking these same grounds, breathing the same air.

~MARLOWE~I knew the second Torin had moved. He’d thought I was asleep, but I’d actually just kept my breathing even, lashes lowered just enough to watch him.He’d dressed like a man stepping into a storm. He hadn’t rushed. He’d been precise in his actions: shirt, jacket, weapons tucked where only he knew. The way he pinned his hair back. The way he checked each blade, each piece of steel.Nothing about it had looked like a SOG assignment, and I’d know whatever he was about, it wasn’t official, it was personal.As I watched him, something shifted. Torin had faded. Not gone, just…folded back. The man who had stood there hadn’t been my lover. Hadn’t been the man who had sat beside me at the lake fighting himself.The one he’d become? He’d had clean edges and empty eyes: an assassin.A shiver had crawled up my spine. I hadn’t known that version of him. Torin I loved. Satan pissed me off. But whoever that man had been? He would kill without blinking.I’d watched as he’d moved to the door a

~BURDOCK~I’d never asked Torin about his past. Not because I hadn’t seen it. Hell, I’d seen it the second he’d walked onto my yard the first time. You don’t miss that kind of weight in a man. It hangs different. Settles behind the eyes. Shows up in the way he stands like he’s already measuring exits.I’d just never asked. Because some lines? You don’t cross unless you’re prepared to bleed for the answer, and I wasn’t interested in bleeding just to satisfy curiosity.Torin wasn’t a man you interrogate…he’s a man you observe.Give him space. Let him decide what he hands you and what he keeps buried. Push too hard and he doesn’t fold. He sharpens. I prefered him sharp on my side.Some reckonings aren’t meant for an audience anyway. Pain gets theatrical when too many eyes are on it. Men start performing instead of healing. Start editing their own truth to make it palatable.Torin never performed. He carried his past like a loaded weapon he refused to set down. Finger off the trigger. Sa

I hadn’t slept, not really. I’d closed my eyes and waited for my brain to shut up. It hadn’t.The lake kept replaying in pieces. Not even the whole thing. Just the moment he’d changed.By the time we’d hit the compound last night, the air between us had felt thick enough to chew. Gravel spewed under the tires as he slewed to a stop, and his hand shot back, pulling me off the bike like I’d become a nuisance he couldn’t wait to be rid of.I’d almost fallen, but had he seemed to give a damn? Hell no he hadn’t. He’d just drove off without even a backward glance. Fuck him anyway.That had pissed me off more than if he’d yelled at me. Like an idiot, I’d stood staring at his back until dust had settled around my boots and now I felt stupid because of it. The anger I’d felt then hadn’t cooled, just shifted: now, it was sharp.With a snort, I beat the hell out of the floorboards with my feet as I headed to the bar and begun work like I always did. Two hours later, I’d smiled when needed. Poure