Chapter 65
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
ROWAN
Every choked word is like a bullet to the chest.
The guns pointed at me outside the car are nothing compared to the agony in Hannah’s words.
I want to reassure her. I want to tell her everything will be okay, but I can’t lie to her.
I won’t.
Glancing over at Asher, I see he’s typing out a series of texts, but it’s too late.
It’s too late for plans.
It’s too late for anyone to help us.
It’s just too fucking late.
“Hannah,” I force her name to my lips like a prayer as I turn to face her.
I take in every inch of her face. The freckles across her nose, the dimple on her left cheek.
The way her eyes shine when she cries. She’s so fucking pretty.
And for a short time, she was mine. She was ours.
“I need you to be strong for us, okay? Don’t let them see you stumble. ”
“I can’t,” she chokes.
“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest woman I know. You’ve survived so much, and you can survive whatever comes next.”
Asher cuts me with a glare. His first instinct is to comfort her, to placate her with soft promises, but I can’t do it.
“We’re not going to let you go, Little Doe,” he says, his words steady and calm. “This isn’t over.”
I glance at him before dropping my gaze to my phone. Does he have a plan I don’t know about?
“We love you so much, Hannah. You’re our entire world,” I tell her honestly. I wish I’d said the words more, that I’d told her at every opportunity, just in case.
“You’re everything that’s good inside us,” Asher agrees, reaching a hand through the seats and squeezing her knee gently. His voice drops before he continues, “There’s pepper spray and a taser in your purse. Use them if you need to. If you feel threatened or scared, don’t hesitate.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but that asshole with the megaphone starts up again.
“You ready?” Asher asks, and she nods through another barrage of tears.
Fuck, I hate to see her cry like this.
Tears of pleasure are one thing, even tears of release, but this is something else entirely, and it’s something I can’t fix.
He’s the first to reach for the handle, and I follow his lead, hoping like hell he knows something I don’t because he’s exuding calm like he used to when he stepped into the octagon.
I used to think it was a show he put on for the crowd. A mask of indifference for his opponents. But after watching him for years, I realized he wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t afraid.
He was ready.
Hannah takes a little longer to climb out, and I wish like hell she’d been sitting behind me, because now there’s a whole SUV between me and the two people who make up my heart.
My son and my woman.
“Hands up,” someone shouts from behind the door of a police cruiser.
I grit my teeth as I follow the command, all the while my eyes track over every face in the sea of blue and red.
Every single one of them is loyal to Jeffrey Malone, which means they’re a threat, and I’ll make sure they all pay the price for this misstep.
It’s not until all three of us comply that I see him. The man responsible for my girl’s misery.
He stands at the back, his town car parked a few yards away, and when he meets my eye, he smirks.
The motherfucker smirks.
Forcing a calm breath into my lungs, I push all the calm I can muster into my words. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Officers descend on us, not providing any explanation as they slam me against the side of the car, stealing the air from my lungs.
“Careful with her,” Asher growls, and a fresh wave of rage rushes over me.
Death will be too kind a fate for whoever has their hands on my woman, and I fully intend to deliver the fucker to the Grim Reaper myself.