(Edited 05/2026)
Sirens POV
The quiet of the house hit me immediately. Water dripped from my soaked clothes, leaving a dark trail across the hardwood floorboards as the adrenaline began to fade, leaving me shivering.
"Siren?"
I froze at the base of the stairs. Del stood at the end of the hallway, already holding a stack of clean towels. She took one look at my dripping hair, my bare, scratched feet, and the tear-stained mess of my face, and her eyes softened with instant understanding.
She didn't scold me for the tracking water inside. Instead, she stepped forward and draped a thick towel over my shivering shoulders.
"Go get changed into some dry clothes, honey," Del whispered gently, giving my arm a supportive squeeze. "I'll clean this up. We're still heading out to go shopping and get those biscuits and gravy, but take your time."
"Thanks, Del," I murmured, clutching the towel tightly around myself as I hurried back up the stairs.
Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I stripped out of the wet sweats and tee. I needed to find something clean and dry. After a quick search through my suitcase, I pulled out the simplest things I owned: a pair of dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I pulled my wet blonde braid over one shoulder, grabbed a pair of clean socks, and slipped into a dry pair of sneakers.
Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I walked back down the stairs and stepped through the back door.
Lucas was gone, but Tank was still there, leaning back against the passenger side of a dark SUV. He had changed out of his wet shirt into a fresh black tank top, exposing the full canvas of tattoos covering his chest and shoulders. He watched me approach, his unreadable eyes tracking my movements with that same quiet intensity.
Del was already sitting in the front passenger seat, waving at me through the rolled down window with a warm smile.
"Get in the back, honey!" she called out.
Tank didn't say a word as I walked up, but he stepped forward and pulled the heavy door open for me. His movements were slow and deliberate. As I climbed into the seat, the faint, masculine scent of cedar and leather drifted off him, cutting through the crisp air.
"Thanks," I muttered, not looking him in the eye.
He gave a single, tight nod, shut the door firmly behind me, and walked around to the driver's side.
Tank slid behind the wheel, his large frame easily filling the driver's seat. The engine roared to life with a deep, heavy rumble that vibrated right through the floorboards. My father was nowhere to be seen, thankfully, leaving just the three of us to navigate the sudden, heavy silence of the car.
The drive into the main part of Riverside was agonizingly quiet. Del tried her best to break the ice, turning around to point out local landmarks and chatting about the town's history. But every time she paused for a breath, the silence slammed back down like a physical weight.
Through the rearview mirror, I could see Tank's sharp stare occasionally shifting up to check on me. He didn't say a word, his large hands gripping the steering wheel loosely, effortlessly navigating the winding roads. I kept my face pressed against the cool glass of the window, watching the thick trees slowly thin out into sun-bleached asphalt, strip malls, and palm trees. The transition from the isolated forest to the bright, buzzing reality of civilization felt jarring. My mind was still stuck back in that quiet, honest room, but the world was forcing me to move forward anyway.
By the time Tank finally pulled the SUV into the crowded parking lot of a massive outdoor shopping center, my stomach was in knots.
"Here we are, sweetie," Del said, unbuckling her seatbelt with an eager smile. "Fresh start, fresh clothes."
YOU ARE READING
Her Broken Wings
Non-Fiction"Remember the ocean baby, always remember it" And it was like, I don't know. It was like a light went out and left me in complete darkness. I knew exactly what she meant at that moment. And it rendered me speechless, it made my heart hammer in my c...
