Broken Soul (Deviant Souls MC #3)

2. Odette

2

ODETTE

E very limb feels like it weighs a thousand pounds and my head is throbbing painfully in time with the beat of my heart. My body aches as I try to move it, though I don’t open my eyes just yet. How can I face reality when my life is crumbling apart? How can the world just… move on while I’m desperately clinging to any sign of hope for my future?

“Take your time,” someone says to my right, their voice deep and gravelly, yet somehow soft at the same time. It sounds familiar…

I open one eye and then the other, squinting against the fluorescent lights in the room I’m in. Where am I? How did I get here? Am I in danger?

“You’re safe here, sweetheart,” the voice assures me. “You passed out on me and I brought you back to my office.”

Blinking a few more times, the room comes into focus as I try to get my bearings. I turn my head, finally getting my first look at the man sitting in a chair next to me. My automatic response is to curl in on myself and jerk away from him, but he holds his hands up, palms out, in a sign of surrender. Something about that jogs a memory…

“My car,” I squeak out. I recognize the man from the mechanic shop. He startled me when he knocked on my window and gave the same hand motion of surrender to let me know he meant no harm.

I turn to face him, sitting up slowly as I take him in. He’s massive, from his broad shoulders to his tree trunk thighs, the man is a solid slab of muscle. Usually, I would avoid men like him. The longer I look at this man, however, the more I want to trust him.

“We can worry about the car later,” he says softly. I can tell he’s trying to be gentle with me, and I appreciate it more than he knows. I’m feeling pretty damn fragile right now. I have no plan, no destination, and as of a few hours ago, no vehicle to get me anywhere even if I figured out where I want to be.

“But–”

“Here, drink up.” He hands me a bottle of water with the cap sealed so I know he hasn’t tampered with it. I may be young and naive in a lot of ways, but I’m not stupid. I know not to trust men, especially strangers.

When he hands me a tray with two ham and cheese sandwiches, a pile of chips, a cup of mixed nuts, three slices of cantaloupe, and a giant chocolate bar, however, I can’t help but crack a smile. I pick up the chocolate bar and raise an eyebrow in amusement. The giant of a man looks away briefly, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears turn red. Is he blushing?

“I just wanted to make sure all the major food groups were covered,” he finally says. His adorable response has me giggling, despite my efforts to remain unaffected by this man.

His dark green eyes light up and a smile tugs at his lips, softening everything about his otherwise hard, chiseled features. The man grins and looks at me eagerly, waiting for me to dig in.

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. I can’t remember the last time someone made a meal for me.

I set the chocolate to the side and go for one of the sandwiches. Even as I take my first bite of real sustenance in days, my mother’s voice echoes in my head. Carbs? Really, Odette? You don’t need carbs. In fact, you could stand to skip a few more meals.

Shame washes over me, making the food in my mouth taste bitter.

“You need to eat more than that,” the man says, encouraging me to keep going. I take another bite, the hunger outweighing any embarrassment I feel about eating in front of someone so clearly fit and rippling with muscle.

After a few more bites, he must sense my anxiety. The man gets up from his seat and shuffles a stack of papers from one side of his desk to the other, though he keeps peering at me over his shoulder. When I take another bite of the sandwich, followed by a handful of chips, he nods his head in approval.

Something about that sends a shiver down my spine, but not out of fear. No, this feeling is something else entirely. Something I’ve never experienced before. Excitement? Attraction? Whatever it is, my body is buzzing with electricity, my nerve endings sparking and sending tingles from head to toe. I want to please him.

I don't even know his name, but he puts me at ease while also making me feel nervous. Not out of fear, but more out of anticipation for what's going to come next. What is that about? Maybe the lack of food and water scrambled my brain. I’ll be better after I eat and sleep.

“So, let’s discuss where you’ll be staying while you get back on your feet,” he says, still busying himself with rearranging his desk to give me space to finish my meal.

"Oh, that's okay. I, um… I'll be okay." My voice cracks on the last word, but I shove a handful of chips into my mouth and start crunching loudly in hopes he doesn't hear it.

No luck. The man frowns, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. For me?

“From what I’ve gathered, you’re on your way to start a new life. Is that accurate?”

I don’t say anything or move a muscle at first, not sure how much of my story I want him to know. In the end, those deep emerald eyes tug at my heart, begging me to let him in. Just a little bit.

I nod and then attack the bowl of mixed nuts with a fury. My appetite has returned with a vengeance after one sandwich and some chips.

“So, why not start over here? With me?” I blink at him a few times, not sure I heard him correctly. “I mean, not with me, with me. Just, like, I’ll be there. If you need me. We’ll both be here and…”

He blows out a breath and looks down at his feet, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Is it possible that I make him nervous, too? I don’t believe it. I can’t. He just feels sorry for me, which is fair. I’m pretty pathetic right now. A charity case if ever there was one.

"I don't have… anything," I whisper, the reality of my situation sinking in for the first time. It's true. I ran out of money yesterday after filling up the gas tank. I had to choose food or gas and opted for more fuel for my vehicle to get me as far away from my mother and stepfather as possible. "I don't even have a plan." I push the mostly empty tray to the side and hold my head in my hands.

Everything is spinning. My mind, the room, the circumstances I find myself in, the nightmare of what I escaped… A tornado of emotion starts in my gut and sucks the air from my lungs as it destroys everything in its path.

“Hey,” the man says, much closer than I realized. He reaches out and curls his fingers around my hand, that simple touch bringing me back into the present moment. “I don’t know what’s going on in your mind, but I recognize turmoil when I see it.” I look up at him, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. “Take a deep breath with me, okay, sweetheart?”

I nod, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. I follow his motion, my choppy breathing slowly returning to normal. I don’t realize I’m crushing his hand in my grip until I calm down a bit.

“I have a spare room at my place. I can’t remember the last time anyone crashed there, if ever. The door locks from the inside and the bathroom is just across the hall.”

I gawk at him, my jaw dropping at his offer. I’m not sure if he’s pranking me or if he’s offering to be nice, knowing I’ll turn him down.

“Thank you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I decline politely. He frowns.

“Why not?”

“Well, first of all, we don’t even know each other’s names. Do you make a habit of inviting strangers over to your house?”

“Never,” he says in all seriousness. “You’d be the first.” His gaze is so intense I have no choice but to believe him. “I’m Diesel,” he announces, shaking my hand that’s already all wrapped up in his. The gesture has me smiling ever so much, but I don’t want him to see that.

“Odette,” I whisper, locking eyes with him.

“Odette,” he repeats to himself. “You really are a Disney princess.”

My eyes widen at his words, but Diesel clears his throat and stands from where he is kneeling in front of me. I must not have heard him correctly. A Disney princess? Me? Yeah, right.

“We’re not strangers anymore,” he points out, lifting an eyebrow at me as if to say the next move is mine.

“Fine, acquaintances. That still doesn’t mean we should move in together.” I stand from where I was seated on the couch and cross my arms over my chest while giving Diesel a stern look.

“No one said anything about this being a permanent solution.” Diesel sounds like he’s almost growling, but that can’t be right. He seems to be struggling with something but I have no idea what. “We can take it day by day. Starting right now.”

“I appreciate your kindness and the meal and water,” I start, trying to think of a way to decline. “But I can’t accept your invitation to couch surf. It’s not you, it’s me,” I finish lamely.

Diesel shakes his head, though he has a grin on his handsome face. He's enjoying our back-and-forth. I can tell he knows he's going to win.

“First off, it’s not couch surfing if you have your own room. And secondly, where are you planning to spend the night tonight?” he asks, calling my bluff.

I nibble my bottom lip, trying to stall until I come up with a satisfactory answer. “Well, since my car isn’t going anywhere, I thought I’d stretch out in the backseat and figure out my life from there.”

“I can’t let you do that,” he says firmly.

“You can’t let me?” I repeat, emphasizing the word he messed up on. “I don’t need your permission to live my life,” I snap. “Sorry,” I immediately apologize. My response was disproportionate to what he said.

“It’s okay. I understand more than you know,” Diesel informs me. I wonder what he means by that. One look at his somber features tells me he sees the pain I’ve spent my whole life hiding.

The frustrating man is right about my lack of options. He knows he’s right, and what’s even more annoying is that he knows I know he’s right. I look around his office, noticing a stack of invoices I assume haven’t been sent out yet, along with a half- finished tax form for employee payroll. A plan forms, a real one this time.

“I’ll stay with you under one condition,” I inform him.

“Anything,” he doesn’t hesitate to reply.

“I want to help out around here. Some light organizing, completing unfinished tasks, that kind of stuff. You can show me how to work the front desk, too.” Diesel opens his mouth, I’m guessing to protest, but I hold up my hand to silence him. “End of discussion. My new life, my new rules.”

The man grins and holds out his hand for me to shake. “Yes, ma’am. You drive a hard bargain and I respect that.”

I don’t think anyone has ever said they respect me before. And to hear it for the first time from this Greek god of a man? Yeah, I’ll admit to some butterflies in my tummy.

I take his hand in mine and we shake on our deal. When our palms touch, an electric charge ripples outward, shaking me to my core. His dark emerald eyes flash at the exact same time, and I know he felt it, too.

What the hell did I just agree to?