Page 21 of Bolt's Flame
I didn’t answer right away, just kept kneading the dough in front of me, my fingers digging into it harder than they should’ve. Finally, I sighed, wiping my flour-covered hands on a towel before leaning back against the counter. “Not really.”
Josie’s smile faded, and he turned fully to face me, concern in his eyes. “What’s going on?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up. Talking about Bolt to Josie felt strange, like crossing some invisible line between the club brothers. But at the same time, I couldn’t keep it inside any longer. It was eating away at me and I need to talk this out. I wouldn’t say his name.
“Someone said something,” I admitted quietly, staring down at the countertop. “Something... hurtful.”
Josie’s brow furrowed, and he took a few steps closer, setting his spoon down. “What didsomeonesay?”
I took a deep breath, the words heavy in my throat. “I was asked why I didn’t just leave since I had opportunities. That I was weak for staying with James as long as I did, and could have left anytime. That I chose to let him beat me.” My voice cracked at the end, and I hated how small I felt saying it out loud.
For a moment, Josie didn’t say anything. His expression shifted, something dark flickering behind his eyes. “Who said that?”
“I’d rather not say.”
Josie stared at me hard, his eyes probing in a way that made me fidget. “Thissomeonedoesn’t know shit.”
“It’s so hard to explain to someone what it was like, you know? He was right. I was weak, beaten down, and a coward.”
“He?”
“It’s not important who. It doesn’t matter and what was said is partly true. I think I’m just overly emotional.”
Josie’s jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought he would insist I tell him who‘he’was, but instead, he turned back to the stove, stirring the pan with a measured, steady hand. “He doesn’t get it, and had no right saying shit like that,” Josie said after a long pause, his voice quieter now. “Unless you’ve been trapped like that, it’s hard to understand.”
I watched him, waiting for him to say more, but when he didn’t, I pushed. “Have you ever dealt with something like that?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Josie turned back to me, his eyes heavy with something I could see still hurt him. “Yeah. I have.”
I blinked, surprised by the weight in his tone. “What happened?”
Josie leaned against the counter across from me, folding his arms over his chest. His expression softened, but there wasstill something raw beneath it. “My sister,” he said quietly. “Her husband was... a lot like James. Controlling. Abusive. We all knew it, but she didn’t leave. She didn’t feel like she could.”
My heart clenched as he spoke, and suddenly, the kitchen felt much smaller, the air between us heavy. “What happened to her?”
“She didn’t make it out,” he said, his voice thick with the pain of the memory. “She stayed with him, kept thinking she could handle it. But one night... one night he went too far.”
My breath caught in my throat, the weight of his words hitting me deep inside. “Josie, I’m so sorry.”
He nodded, but his eyes were distant, lost in the past. “I tried to get her out, but she wouldn’t go. Said she was afraid for herself and us. And then... it was too late.”
The silence between us was thick, the unspoken grief hanging in the air. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I understood that fear, that paralyzing feeling of being trapped, but hearing Josie’s story made it feel even more real. More terrifying because I knew James was close to silencing me forever.
“That’s why those words hurt so much,” I admitted quietly. “Unless you live it, you don’t know how hard it is to leave. How much it messes with your head, the way he broke me down, isolated me and killed any self-worth I had.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Josie said, his voice low and angry. “He’s got no right to judge you for that. No one does. People think it’s easy, but it’s not. Leaving someone like that... it’s one of the hardest things a woman can do.”
I nodded, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes but refusing to let them fall. I didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not in front of Josie. “I just... I thought I was past blaming myself. But when Bo—hesaid those things, it made me feel like I’m the woman James claimed, and I deserved his abuse.”
Josie reached out, gently placing a hand on my arm. “No one fucking deserves to be abused, Fiona. You got out, that’s all that matters. And that’s more than a lot of women can say.”
I looked up at him, grateful for the steady, calming presence he always brought. “Thank you, Josie. For listening. For understanding.”
He gave me a small, sad smile. “Anytime. And if thissomeonegives you shit about this again, you let me know. I’ll take care of it or better yet, let Brenda know, just not Horse, because he’ll kill him. Brenda will just make him suffer.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me. He just... doesn’t understand.”
Josie sighed, his eyes softening. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean he can say things like that.”