I wondered what was going through his mind this morning. He was noble to a fault, so I imagined he would be feeling the remorse that I probably should be. Although only a month had passed since the Raiders had freed me from my captivity, I was ready to move on. My therapist encouraged me to try to move forward in all aspects of my life, from school to my ability to trust men. During our sessions, the mantra that not all men were evil and were going to hurt me was something we frequently repeated. It was hard to overcome my knee-jerk reaction to feeling threatened in a strange man’s presence. While we had yet to work through how a future love life might work for me, I couldn’t help being confused as to why my love life seemed to still need blocking with yellow caution tape like the police did at crime scenes.

At the end of the day, Mendoza would haunt me until I was able to give myself emotionally and physically to another man. I had to wonder if the longer I waited, the more I was allowing emotional scar tissue to build up, making it harder and harder to be intimate with someone. Many victims of trafficking and rape were in relationships or married, so it wasn’t like they put on a habit and went to their local nunnery. They had to work through the emotional landmines to reconnect physically with their partners.

I felt I had spent the last month getting to know Rev on such a deep level that I was ready to risk a relationship that went further than friendship. I just didn’t know how to convince him that his steadfast image of me as a cracked china doll wasn’t who I was.

After running a brush through my hair and improvising without a toothbrush, I decided to go in search of Rev and some strong coffee. When I got to the end of the long hallway, I faltered at the sight of all the strangers milling around the front room. Closing my eyes, I inwardly chanted, You can do this. These people are Rev’s family. They won’t hurt you.

My eyes flew open at the sound of a familiar voice. “Morning, Uptown Girl,” Bishop said with a wave. His warm grin instantly put me at ease.

“Morning, Bishop.”

“You hungry?” he asked as he came to meet me.

“A little. More than anything, I’d love some coffee.”

“Come on. I’ll take you to Rev.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Bishop.”

Whenever I met the eye of one of the Raiders or their old ladies, which was still a hard term for me to get used to, I received a nod of the head or a friendly smile. I didn’t know if they were being kind because of what I had gone through or because I was with Rev, so to speak.

When Rev caught sight of me, a range of emotions flashed across his face. After settling on the one that looked like he was glad to see me, he came forward and gave me a hug. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I replied as I squeezed him tight. His usual manly smell was mixed with coffee and bacon, which made me feel both comfort and longing.

When I pulled away, he appeared apologetic. “Sorry I left you this morning, but you were sleeping so peacefully I hated to wake you up.”

“It’s okay.” With a sheepish grin, I added, “I definitely needed to sleep off the alcohol.”

He laughed before turning to pour me a cup of steaming coffee. “Have some of this while I fix you a plate.”

Leaning back against the counter, I blew tiny rivulets in the black liquid to cool it off. At the same time, I kept an eye on Rev as he went about getting my food. I thought that when he was around a large group of his brothers, he might shy away from openly taking care of me, like somehow it would be seen as him being pussy-whipped. But the one thing I most loved about Rev was how he never put people’s opinions of him above being his kind, caring self. It was truly endearing.

When he came back with a plate heaped with bacon, eggs, and hash browns, my eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“You need some good, greasy food after all that alcohol.”

Glancing down at the plate, I said, “But I couldn’t eat all of this even if I didn’t have a weak stomach from drinking.”

Rev winked. “Just eat what you can.”

“Okay.”

He placed a hand on my back and guided me out into the main room. We sat down at a table with Deacon, Alexandra, and Bishop. “What did you think of last night?” Alexandra asked.

“It was interesting.”

Bishop snorted. “Interesting how?”

I chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bacon as I tried to put into words what I had experienced.

Misjudging my silence, Deacon said, “It’s okay if you didn’t like it, Annabel. This life ain’t for everyone.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “No, no, it isn’t like that. I enjoyed watching the patching ceremony and seeing the way everyone acted like family.” I looked pointedly at Deacon. “It showed me how someone would want to be a part of this life.”

My response seemed to please the Malloy brothers. Deacon even gave Rev a knowing look, which Rev responded to by ducking his head.

After finishing what I could of my meal, I noticed an old upright piano across from us. I stood up and went over to it. “Does anyone ever play this?” My fingers were already tinkling lightly over the keys.

“Not since Jim Beam died,” Rev replied as he came to my side.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

Rev laughed. “Jim Beam was the oldest member of the club. He literally lived and died with a bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He could even ride one-handed and drink.”

“I guess that’s how he got his road name, huh?”

“Yes. It is.” He nudged me closer to the bench. “Why don’t you play something?”