Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SADIE
I woke to the sound of metal scraping against concrete from somewhere outside. I patted the mattress beside me, but there was no warm body where one should have been. The mattress was cool to the touch. Had Rowan even stepped foot inside the house since he’d left me earlier to take care of Marcus?
The alarm clock on the nightstand told me it was just after three in the morning. I’d fought to stay awake, knowing what Rowan, Bear and Scout were out there doing.
The guilt should have gnawed at me, should have made me just as complicit in anything that had been done to Marcus. And maybe I was complicit. I’d wanted him to pay for what he’d done to me. But the guilt? I couldn’t even bring myself to feel an ounce of it.
Just knowing he was no longer breathing was enough, even as the phantom pain of his fists still lingered.
In time, I’d heal. But at that moment, it didn’t matter if I was whole.
I had Rowan, and everything else seemed to take a backseat as we navigated around the chaos we’d found ourselves in between Marcus and Snake.
I had hoped my father would put my mind at ease, then at least I’d have the truth about my mother.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and planted my bare feet on the worn carpet. The floorboards creaked under my weight as I made my way down the staircase. The cool breeze danced over my skin as I headed outside into the garage in the backyard.
As kids, Logan and I had been banned from stepping foot inside it. It had been off-limits, purely for adults. Still, it hadn’t stopped Logan and I from sneaking in there when Troy had been out, and stealing a few buds of weed to smoke in our treehouse.
Now, it was Rowan’s sanctuary.
The hammering sounds grew louder the closer I got, punctuated by the occasional muffled curse. I pushed open the heavy door, the hinges squealing like nails down a chalkboard.
Rowan didn’t even glance up. He remained hunched over the engine of the rusted-out car, grease staining his hands as he worked methodically in the dim light.
The blue Falcon had been Logan’s next obsession. He’d wanted to fix it up when we eventually got back from our summer trip. Now, it seemed Rowan had now taken over the project. It should have been a symbol of hope but was now another reminder of everything we’d lost.
It was as if Rowan was trying to resurrect something Logan had left behind, but the engine wasn’t the only thing in need of repair.
“Hey,” I said softly, hoping he would finally acknowledge me. Still, he didn’t look up. Didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Had he not heard me? Or was he ignoring me on purpose? I took a step closer, the concrete cold against my bare feet. “Rowan?”
He finally responded, but it was nothing more than a grunt, as he aggressively tightened a bolt. The muscles in his forearms flexed with each turn of the wrench.
“Ro? Talk to me. Please.” I reached out, my fingers brushing his forearm.
His body stiffened immediately, a muscle in his jaw twitching as if my touch had shocked him. He flinched away, eyes avoiding mine. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he muttered, continuing to pretend that the engine was all that mattered. “Go back to bed.”
I forced myself to stand firm, crossing my arms, but the tremor in my hands betrayed me. “Not until you talk to me, Rowan. What’s going on in your head?”
His knuckles went white as he gripped the wrench tighter. “Nothing’s going on. I’m working on the car.”
I arched a brow. “At three in the morning?”
I took another step closer, but Rowan backed away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this right now, Sadie. I need . . . I need space.”
Tears stung my eyes. Rowan was lashing out, and it was all because of me. The guilt finally flooded in, and the weight of it almost crushed me. My knees trembled, and I wrapped my arms around my waist. What the hell had I done?
“I . . . I’m sorry, Ro.” I swiped at my tears. “I’ll leave.”
“Goddamn it.” He slammed the wrench against the side of the car, the clang reverberating in the garage.
“I’m not angry at you, Sades,” he growled, his voice cracking.
“What do you want me to say? That I fucked up? That I failed you? Fuck, Snake’s out there somewhere doing God-knows-what and all I can do is just sit here and wait for him to strike. ”
His words hung heavy in the air between us .
“Rowan,” I said, my bottom lip trembling. “What happened with Marcus, it wasn't your fault. You can’t?—”
“Don’t.” He cut me off sharply, turning back to the car. “Just don’t.” He buried himself in the engine once again, his movements jerky and agitated.
The silence stretched between us, broken only by the clink of tools and Rowan’s ragged breathing.
I wanted to touch him, ground him somehow, and reassure him that Marcus was no longer a threat to me because of him.
How could he not see that what he’d done to protect me was more than anyone had ever done for me in my entire life?
His brother had been too selfish to stay, to live his life with me. But Rowan? He was willing to kill for me. Willing to risk his soul for me. He couldn’t see what I saw. Couldn’t see that I was still standing—still breathing—because of him.
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us until the heat radiating from his body seared against my skin. “Don’t push me away, Rowan,” I pleaded. “Let me carry some of it.”
His jaw tightened. “I could have lost you,” he choked out, his voice raw and strained.
“I can’t get the image of that bastard—Fuck.
” He threw the wrench at the wall. It lodged itself into the plaster before clambering to the concrete, leaving behind a gaping hole.
His chest heaved, hands tugging at his hair as though he wasn’t quite in control of his movements.
“I should have been there, Sades. I’m sorry, baby.
I’m so fucking sorry.” His shoulders slumped, the rage in him giving way to something far heavier—guilt, maybe. Or grief.
“But you didn’t lose me,” I whispered, stepping up to him and cupping his face in my hands. “I’m right here, Ro. You don’t get to push me away. I’ve done enough running. I’m not going anywhere. Never.” My fingers trembled as I gently turned his face toward mine.
His eyes searched my face with an intensity that made my breath catch. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Sadie. The things I’ve done, the man I’ve become—you deserve better than this. Better than me.”
I shook my head, desperate to break him out of the prison of self-loathing he’d built around himself. “That’s not for you to decide,” I said, brushing my thumbs across his cheeks. “I know exactly who you are, Rowan Knight. The good, the bad—all of it. And I’m still here.”
His hands came up slowly, almost unsure, until his fingers wrapped around my wrists.
For a moment I thought he might push me away again, but he leaned into my touch, eyes closing as a single tear escaped from the inner corner of his eye and settled on the tip of his nose.
I kissed it away, the sweetness of his skin mingling with the saltiness of his pain.
His hands tightened around my wrists, not painfully, but with a desperation that spoke volumes. The war behind his eyes was raging—the need to push me away warring with the desire to pull me closer.
“Firefly,” he breathed, my nickname a prayer and a plea all at once. “I don’t want to push you too hard. Just tell me what I can do.”
I pressed my forehead to his. The scent of motor oil and sweat filled my nostrils, achingly familiar.
The rusted-out frame of Logan’s old car caught the light.
It had become a shadow from the past neither of us could outrun.
So, we just stood there, breathing each other in, our silence louder than any words.
“I just need you, Ro,” I murmured, finally breaking the silence.
And that was the truth. Marcus was no longer breathing. He’d never lay a hand on me again, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to glance over my shoulder. I was free. Rowan had set me free .
Ever so slowly, he leaned in, pausing barely a breath away from my lips. “You make me fucking crazy. I don’t know which way is up anymore, Sades.”
My fingers tangled in his hair at the back of his neck. “I’m here, baby. I’m safe because of you. Whatever comes next, we’ll deal with it together.”
With that, he nodded and closed the distance as though that was all the permission he needed to breathe again.
Rowan’s lips found mine, hard and insistent.
He tasted of salt and longing and years of unspoken words, all pouring out in a clash of teeth and tongues.
He slid his hands from my wrists, down my forearms, then to my waist, pulling me flush against him.
Everywhere his skin touched mine, left a trail of goosebumps.
Our kiss deepened, desperate and searching, each of us trying to make up for all the lost time in that one moment.
Rowan backed me up against the workbench, tools and—what sounded like—cans crashing onto the concrete floor.
He lifted me onto the bench, shoving items out of the way without breaking the kiss.
His rough hands skimmed up my sides, leaving trails of grease on my skin.
I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the feel of him, solid and real, as he pressed in between my legs. When we finally came up for air, both panting, Rowan pressed his forehead to mine, his warm breath fanning my face.
“I love you,” he whispered, his words catching in his throat. “I’ve always fucking loved you, Firefly.” The words cracked him open.
Finally, he was giving me the parts of himself he’d spent a lifetime trying to bury.
I pulled him closer, pressing my mouth to his again, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders. Rowan’s calloused fingers slipped under my tank top, leaving a searing heat along my skin.
He yanked the thin fabric of my tank top over my head in one clean motion.
It landed somewhere in the cluttered garage.
My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the button on his jeans, my movements hurried and frantic.
The button popped, and I shoved his pants down over his toned arse, enough to pull his cock free.
Rowan slid a hand up the inner side of my thigh, shoving the flimsy cotton of my pyjama shorts to the side. He groaned as his fingers skimmed over my slick flesh.
“Fuck, you’re killing me, baby.”
“Oh god,” I murmured, barely able to get the word out as Rowan slid two fingers inside me.
He pushed me backward until I was lying flat against the bench. “I want to watch you while I fuck you. Be a good girl and stay still.”
My small whimpers were all the permission he needed, and he lined up the silky head of his cock against my pussy and shoved into me with surprising tenderness.
I gasped at the intense fullness—of rightness. Rowan slowly pulled out, just slightly, then drove back into me, his eyes never leaving mine.
He gripped my hips, his fingers vice like, marking me, branding me in the way only he could. We moved together, finding a rhythm as natural as breathing. It was slow, our bodies connected in ways not purely physical.
I clung to the edge of the bench, my nails digging into splintered wood. My skin heated, a flurry of emotions racing through me with each push and pull between our bodies. I barely contained myself, too caught up in the bubble Rowan and I had created to think about anything else.
He pulled me up and buried his face in my neck, his breath hot as he nipped and sucked at my damp skin. “Sadie,” he groaned, his voice rough.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging gently as waves of pleasure washed over me. The scent of motor oil and sweat filled my nostrils, uniquely Rowan, uniquely us. Our bodies moved in perfect sync, the garage filled with the sounds of our lovemaking.
It was more than just fucking. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t sweet. But it was ours—wild and raw, and exactly what we both needed.
The familiar tension of my orgasm built low in my stomach, my muscles clenching around him. Rowan’s movements became more urgent, more primal. His teeth grazed my collarbone, sending a shiver racing through my body.
“Ro, I’m close,” I murmured, tightening my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
He responded by sliding a hand between us, his thumb finding my most sensitive spot. The dual sensations of him inside me and his expert touch sent me spiralling over the edge. My back arched as my body convulsed, wave after wave gripping me, each one more intense than the last.
I cried out Rowan’s name over and over, clinging to him as my body shuddered with release. He held me through it all, his movements slowing to draw out my pleasure. Just when I thought it was over, another aftershock hit, and I moaned, clawing at his skin.
When the last tremors subsided, I let my head fall against Rowan’s shoulder. He ran his fingers through my hair, his breathing even and soft, his heartbeat steady, like he hadn’t just killed a man to protect me. Or fucked me within an inch of my life.
This was the life I was choosing. I knew what I was getting myself into with him. Rowan didn’t sugar coat any of it. If anything, he shoved it in front of my face and made me stare at it until I’d come to terms with the fact he wouldn’t hesitate to murder anyone, especially for me.
He sighed, and pulled me closer, his thumb brushing gently against the skin on the back of my neck. “You love me,” he said, kissing my forehead.
I frowned, not that he could see my face. “What?”
He hooked a finger under my chin, tilting my head up. “You love me.” The words contained so much conviction.
I nodded, my chin trembling. “I’ve always loved you, Ro,” I said softly, my eyes darting between his. “I was just waiting for you to notice.”
His mouth twitched with the faintest of smiles as he ran a thumb over my bottom lip. “I noticed, Firefly,” he said, bringing his lips to brush against mine. “I was just waiting for you to finally admit it.”