Brynleigh
I stared at the fire, the thick blanket wrapped around me, my hair still damp from the bath. I was shaking a little bit, the coldness seeping right down to my bones even with the warmth and blanket around me.
I lifted my legs and bent them at the knees, resting my feet on the cushion of the chair.
I’d been sitting here since I’d gotten out of the bath, long enough that Rooney had stoked the fire several times.
The light touch on my shoulder had me looking over, seeing Rooney smiling softly at me. Although Rooney wasn’t classically handsome, he was rugged and beautiful in a brutal way.
He held a plate in one hand, and a cup in the other. On the plate was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a pickle slice, and some chips. And in his hand was a hot cup of tea.
“Milk and sugar, just the way you like it,” he said softly.
I smiled in thanks.
During my bath, he’d gone into town and gotten supplies. I hadn’t wanted to be alone, had even started to freak out a little, but I needed to be strong for him. He had risked a lot—his very life—to make sure I was safe and rescued. Even going into town, taking a chance of being spotted, was risky and dangerous.
But he’d done all this to make sure we were safe. If I couldn’t hold it together for him then I was no good to anyone.
I placed my feet on the ground and straightened, taking the plate and cup from him and giving him a grateful smile. For the next ten minutes we ate in silence, staring at the fire, thinking about what would happen next, how our lives would be changed forever.
Before I could get up and put the plates and cups away, Rooney was right there doing it for me. He was taking care of me, probably thinking I was fragile. And I was, to a point. But I had to be strong, not only for myself, but for him as well.
We were in this together, and there was no changing that, no going back.
He sat in the chair beside me, neither of us speaking for long moments. But it was a comfortable silence, at least for the time being.
I could feel this tenseness in him, could see in his face that his mind was working, that he was plotting how to fix this. I wanted to ask him a million different questions about Venom, the club, and what we are going to do about Vincenzo. He’d come for us. He’d make us pay.
Although he said this place was safe, I wanted to know for how long.
I turned toward him, watching as the shadows from the flickering light played over his masculine face. He had a couple days’ worth of stubble covering his jaw and cheeks, his focus trained in front of him, his expression telling me he was thinking deeply.
“Rooney?” I said his name softly and instantly he turned and looked at me, his focus trained right on me, his attention solely on me.
“How deep are we in this?” Rooney didn’t answer for long moments, but I could see in his expression he was trying to word this correctly, safely.
He looked back at the fire for a moment and I could see him playing over my words in his head. He finally exhaled, lifted his hand to rub his eyes, and looked exhausted for the first time since we’d come here.
I thought about Rebekah and if he’d had to … take her out as well. He must have seen that worry in my face because he exhaled slowly and shook his head.
“Rebekah is fine.”
I felt a breath of relief leave me, but as I stared at him I saw the weight of the world crash down around him.
He’d been so damn strong this entire time, but I could see he was barely hanging on, that the rope that kept him together was starting to unwind as the reality of all of this came full circle.
I saw him inhale deeply. He looked at me then, sorrow in his eyes.
“I’m in deep, Bryn, so deep that I don’t know if I can actually get myself out of it.”
My heart started beating painfully.
“But I will not let anything happen to you. No matter what, I will make sure you’re safe.”
I knew without a doubt he’d keep me safe, but what about him? Who would keep him safe? I knew he’d die for me, risk his life to protect me, would give it up to make sure I was happy, and nothing harmed me. But I wanted him to be okay.
I wanted him … with me.
His focus on me was intense, severe. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again, Bryn. That I fucking guarantee.”
Before I could respond, three rapid knocks on the front door had both of us going still, silent.
My throat tightened, and fear set in. I tried to be rational, to tell myself that if it was the club or Vincenzo they certainly wouldn’t have knocked, right?
Rooney was already standing and reaching for the gun that he had at the small of his back. He picked up another handgun that had been lying on the table. He walked toward the front door and moved to the side. When he looked over at me, I saw his concentration was in place. He gestured for me to get to the ground, which I did instantly.
The only sound that could be heard in those tense moments was of the fire crackling.
It was only seconds that ticked by but felt like hours had passed.
“Rooney, it’s me, Rebekah. Open up.”
I felt my eyes widen as I looked between Rooney and the door.
She sounded frantic, almost crazed. Neither of us said anything for long moments, but I could see how tense Rooney had become.
There was only one reason Rebekah was here.
She either needed help because she was in trouble, or she was going to take out Rooney because he’d killed Venom.