Dirty Delivery (Bound & Delivered #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Savannah

The house is quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of old wood settling. I’ve never been comfortable with silence; the irony of living alone is not unknown to me. Too much silence gives my mind room to wander. And right now, my thoughts are like a storm, relentless and unforgiving.

I curl up on the couch, a blanket pulled tightly around me, and stare out of the window into the inky blackness of the night. Somewhere out there, people are looking for me—people who think I had something to do with Vinny’s disappearance. It feels surreal, like I’m living someone else’s nightmare.

My gaze drifts to the kitchen, where Rylan disappeared to after telling me about the bounty on my head. He looked so calm, so sure of himself. But I saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. He’s scared, I just know it, even if he won’t admit it.

And the worst part, I don’t know if he’s scared for me or because of me.

The door to the kitchen opens, and Rylan steps back into the room. He’s changed into a black t-shirt and jeans, the tattoos on his arms visible now. They’re intricate, swirling designs that I’ve only ever seen glimpses of. They suit him, somehow—dark and captivating just like the man himself.

“You should try to get some rest.”

I shake my head. “Too much on my mind.”

He nods and settles into the armchair across from me. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until I can’t take it anymore.

“Why are you doing this?” I blurt out. “Why are you putting yourself in danger for me?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because I can’t not do this, Savannah. You don’t deserve to be caught in the middle of this mess. And . . .” He hesitates, eyes locking with mine. “Because I’ve cared about you longer than I want to admit.”

My breath catches. “What?”

“I’ve been into you for months,” he says, his voice softer now. “Since the first time I delivered one of your packages. You always looked at me like I was just some nosy delivery guy, but every time you smiled at me or gave me shit for asking too many questions, it . . . stuck with me. I should’ve said something, but . . .” His expression darkens. “I knew my life wasn’t something I could drag you into. And now here we are—you’re in it anyway.”

I’m not sure what to say. Part of me wants to be angry that he kept this from me, but another part—a much larger part—feels something else entirely. Gratitude? Relief? Something deeper I’m not ready to name?

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replies. “Just know that I’ll do what it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means destroying my own life in the process.”

The intensity of his voice sends shivers down my spine. This man—this infuriating, complicated man—is willing to destroy everything for me. And I don’t know if I should be flattered or terrified.

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. I glance away, my gaze falling to the blanket tangled around my legs. “I am not used to this,” I say softly. “Being the reason someone cares so much.”

Rylan shifts slightly, finally leaning back in the chair. “Get used to it, mo stóirín,” he says simply. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“What does that mean? Why do you call me that: mo stóirín?” I ask, in my best attempt at an Irish accent but I am pretty sure I butchered it.

Rylan chuckles softly at my clearly awful pronunciation. “I’ll tell you when you’re ready to know.”

The quiet confidence in his voice makes my heart stutter. I pull the blanket tighter around me, clutching it like a shield against his presence. It’s not just the warmth I’m seeking—it’s a way to steady myself, to hide the shivers that ripple through me every time his eyes linger just a moment too long.

“You really should get some rest,” he says after a moment, his tone softer now. “It’s been a long day.”

“What about you?” I look up at him. “When do you sleep?”

He smirks, a faint glimmer of amusement lighting his eyes. “I’ll sleep when I’m sure you’re safe.”

It’s a sweet answer, but it only makes the knot in my chest tighten. “You can’t do everything, Rylan. You’re only human.”

“Yeah, well.” He stands and stretches. “You’re worth it.”

I’m frozen, caught in the weight of his words. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he walks back toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with thoughts I’m not sure how to process.

I should go upstairs. I should try to sleep. But instead, I stay curled up on the couch, staring at the empty chair he left behind. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions, each one pulling me in a different direction. Gratitude. Guilt. Fear. And something else—something warm and unfamiliar that makes my chest ache.

For the first time in weeks, I feel something close to hope. It’s fragile and tentative, but it’s there. And maybe, just maybe, it’s enough to keep me going.

Rylan

I retreat to the kitchen after leaving Savannah in the living room. I need the space to clear my head. Every moment with her feels like a knife twisting in my chest. Seeing her curled up like that, vulnerable and scared, makes me want to destroy every single person who’s put her in this position.

But I can’t. Not yet.

I grip the edge of the counter and bow my head, letting out a long, controlled breath. It’s been months since the first time I saw her, and she’s consumed me ever since. I tried to play it cool, tried to convince myself that she was just a passing interest. But every delivery, every smile, every annoyed look she gave me stuck with me like a brand.

And now, she’s here. In my house. In my life. It should feel like a victory, but instead, it feels like a slow march to war. Because no matter how hard I fight, I know this situation is a powder keg waiting to explode.

I glance at the security monitors mounted discreetly on the wall, quickly scanning the feed from the cameras placed around the property. The guards are stationed at their posts and the perimeter is clear. Still, it doesn’t ease the tension in my gut.

The Castillos won’t stop. Not until they find her or I give them something else to take their focus off her. And I’m not sure I have enough left to give.

My thoughts are interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps. Savannah stands in the doorway, her blanket draped over her shoulders like a shield.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I push back from the counter, straightening to my full height as I assess her.

She shakes her head. “No. My mind still can’t seem to turn off long enough for me to fall asleep.”

I gesture to the counter. “Want some tea? It might help.”

She hesitates but eventually nods and steps closer. I busy myself with the kettle, trying to ignore the way her presence seems to light up the room. When I set the mug in front of her, she offers me a small, tired smile.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic.

I watch her for a moment, the way her auburn hair catches the light and the way her eyes seem to hold a thousand unspoken emotions. And I know, without a doubt, that I’d do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Every decision, every move I make from here on out, is for her.

“You’re not alone in this,” I say quietly. “You never have to be.”

She looks up at me, her gaze softening. “I’m starting to believe that.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself hope too.