We sat in quiet for a bit, watching the light reflect off the water. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was playing at. After our night together, she had no reason to distrust me.
What was going on in her head? Why was she scared? What happened to make her that way?
So many scenarios ran through my head that they all became jumbled. Whatever the answers were, I needed to know she didn’t fear me. That was the one emotion that ate at me.
Needing to have answers, I had to get the ball rolling. “First. It’s great seeing you, but I gotta know why did you run when you saw me at the clubhouse?”
She let out a huff of breath as her hands clenched together in front of her. If I knew what the hell was going on, I’d reach out and put my hand over hers, trying to give her just a beat of reassurance.
Her actions were puzzling me. Almost as if she had this huge secret that she was holding inside. While I wanted to know right then and there, she needed patience and to tell me when she felt the time was right.
“You surprised me. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again and poof, there you were out of the blue in the last place I’d ever thought you’d be.” Her voice came out quiet, just like it sounded over the phone. Timid. Unsure Frightened. Nothing like the night we'd spent together. This part of Cyrus I couldn’t wrap my head around.
What she'd said, though, was a plausible answer. It was the emotions rolling off of her that concerned me. “I get the shock, but why run? I’d never hurt you. There’s no reason to think I’d ever lay a hand on you.”
Her head tipped to the side, her stunning green eyes coming to me for a brief moment before going back out to the water. “There are a lot of things I need to talk to you about, Micah.” Her tone was heavy and laced with fear, which rolled off of her in waves. I didn’t like this one bit. All my instincts came to the forefront.
“I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Cyrus.” It was the honest to God truth. Now that I’d seen her, there was nothing more I wanted to do than to spend time with her.
Her body jolted, and her head whipped around to me so fast it surprised me, which wasn’t something that happened to me these days. But the sudden change in her closed-off nature to alert and in control wasn’t expected. “No. You can’t call me that, Micah. That girl doesn’t exist anymore. She’s dead and buried and will remain there forever.” Fear mixed with anger came through loud and clear.
That tight pit in my gut twisted. There were only certain reasons a person would change their name, and the most prevalent was somebody was after them. Every protective instinct came to the surface. “Are you in trouble?”
“Yes… I mean no. Not any more really.” Her head shook, and I could tell this was hard on her, that she didn’t know what end was up and what end was down. I felt her terror and uncertainty returning like whatever was on her shoulders was weighty and bogging her down.
I felt the desperate need to take all of that from her and carry it on my shoulders. For her to take a breath and let me make all of this disappear for her. Even not knowing what had her twisted up, it was right where I wanted to be.
Turning my body toward her, my knee went up to the table as I grabbed her hand, getting her to turn to me. She didn’t pull away, but she tensed and let me hold it. I wanted to give her my strength to get through whatever she had to tell me and for her to feel safe in doing so.
“Talk to me.”
She let out a burst of air, her hand gripping mine tightly then releasing. A sign she wanted to talk to me and let it all hang out. At least I’d hoped. “Right. You have questions and deserve answers.” She took a deep breath, and her back straightened as if she were preparing. For what? I had no clue yet. “Cyrus was from my old life. A life that doesn’t exist anymore and needs to stay in the past. You can never call me that again. It’s Ensley. The other name is long dead and buried.”
“That’s not telling me the why.”
She turned fully to me, propping her knee up on the table as well, still allowing me to hold her hand. I counted this tiny gesture as progress, small but still there. Part of me wanted to plead with her to tell me, but I refrained.
“Do you know about Ryker’s family?” Her brow arched in question.
This confused me because of the switch in topic so quickly. “The Ravage family. Yeah.”
She shook her head, her beautiful red hair moving with her. “No. Before the Ravage MC. What he was born into. The family he was raised in.”
My brain shifted back, trying to recall if my father ever said anything to me about Ryker. Then it clicked. The conversation was short but memorable.
Ryker came from a family where his father had like a dozen wives, and there were a ton of kids. Some kind of religious cult or something that he’d left a long time ago. That was about all I knew. “Yes. Some of it.”
Her eyes met mine as if she was waiting to gauge my reaction. “Ryker is my cousin.”
I didn’t let go of her hand, but this had my body jerking back as the shock overtook me. Cousin. No way. That couldn’t be true. Could it? What the fuck? That couldn’t be because she’d be in a life completely different. “Seriously?” I asked, feeling incredulous.
“Yes. Long story short, I grew up in that life. That way of thinking wasn’t for me, and I had to run away. Ryker helped me and my sister Katie break away and brought us here to live.” Her hand started to tremble, and I could feel her start to pull away from me, but I held firm and grabbed the other hand as well.
While I had no first-hand knowledge of this religion, I’d watched enough television shows to know she looked nothing like them. She didn’t wear the dresses that covered her from top to toe. Nor did she have her hair in a bun thing on the top of her head. “But that night we met, you had on party clothes and didn’t act like I’d think someone from a religious cult would act.” She was all over me as I was her on the dance floor and in the room. Never would I have thought she had such a primitive upbringing.
Fuck, I was loving that damn smirk on her face. Even as confusing as this situation was, I couldn’t help but take the time to admire her.
“Oh, if my parents would’ve seen me, there would’ve been hell to pay. That night I’d snuck out with a friend of mine, Ari. It was only the second time we’d done it. I had a bit of a rebel in me.”
What were the odds that we would see each other in a bar and end up here? Especially for someone who didn’t go out and had a very conservative upbringing. It was strange, but it also felt honest.
I was getting no vibes that Cyrus, I mean Ensley, was lying about any of it. The name thing would definitely take some getting used to, but in all of this, I felt she was sincere. And my bullshit meter was pretty spot on.
Her hands felt soft against my rough ones. My thumb slowly stroked her skin as I held her. More than anything in that moment, I wanted her to feel comfortable and safe with me. “Must’ve. Why did you leave?” Maybe her group wasn’t like the others I’d heard about. Maybe they were nice and more open. Hell if I knew, but it was a very valid question and one I needed the answers to.
This time, her hands clutched mine tightly as she turned her body to meet mine, garnering every bit of my attention. Her focus was intense, like whatever she had to say next meant more to her than anything. I felt myself go on high alert, but I didn’t let it show. Another trick I’d gained from Uncle Sam.