Chapter 75 Morgan
Morgan
Time stretched into something unbearable.
Every creak of the cabin made me flinch, every brush of wind against the walls set my nerves on fire.
Ruby dozed with her head on my shoulder, but even in sleep, her body twitched, restless with fear.
I kept the pistol resting in my lap, my finger brushing the trigger guard, unwilling to set it down.
I told myself I was ready—that if the man came back, I’d stop him. But the truth was, the longer the silence dragged on, the more fragile my resolve felt.
Headlights cut through the blackout curtains.
I froze, heart lodged in my throat. An engine rumbled closer, then died. Boots crunched on gravel.
This time, I didn’t move toward the door. I stood my ground, gun steady, my voice sharp. “Damian?”
A pause. Then his answer, deep and sure: “It’s me.”
The sound unraveled me. I fumbled with the locks, my hands trembling so hard I almost dropped the gun. The door swung open, and there he was—broad shoulders, eyes sharp, the scent of gunpowder and cold night air clinging to him.
The weapon slipped from my grip, landing harmlessly on the rug, and I was in his arms before I could think. He crushed me to his chest, one hand burying in my hair, the other anchoring me against him. For the first time all night, I let myself cry, the sob tearing loose from somewhere deep.
His voice rumbled against my ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I clung tighter, my fists knotted in the fabric of his shirt. “He was here. At the door. He knew my name, Damian. He knew about Ruby.”
His arms tightened like iron bands. For a long beat, he didn’t speak. Then, low and dangerous: “I should have been here.”
“No,” I whispered fiercely, pulling back enough to look at him. “You were doing what had to be done. I just… I just needed you to come back.”
He searched my face, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something raw and unguarded. Then he bent and kissed me—hard, unrestrained, nothing like the careful touch in front of the others. This was a promise, a vow, a fire that lit up everything I’d been holding in.
When we finally broke apart, his forehead pressed to mine, he whispered, “I’ll never let him get near you again. Either of you.”
Behind me, Ruby stirred, her sleepy voice soft but certain. “I believe him.”
Damian’s gaze flicked over my shoulder to her, then back to me. He kissed my temple and eased me closer, his hand steady at the small of my back. “Get some rest, both of you. Tomorrow we move. Tonight, no one touches this door but me.”
And for the first time in days, I believed it.