Chapter 37
For the first time in years, I wake up without alarms, gunfire, or the nightmares of my memories tearing me from the dark. The world is quiet—too quiet—but the soft weight in my arms reminds me I’m not dreaming.
Reese’s head rests against my chest, her breath blowing against my skin. One of her arms is draped across me and the other is tucked beneath her. I stay perfectly still, afraid to disturb her. She’s bruised and battered, but breathing. And that’s more than I dared to hope for forty-eight hours ago.
She stirs a little, murmuring something in her sleep before going still again.
I trace my thumb along her arm, and her hand curls into my ribs.
It hurts a little, but I don’t care. The sunlight spills through the curtains, painting her face gold.
Her lashes flutter when she starts to wake, and the smallest, sleepiest sound leaves her throat when she shifts closer to me.
God help me, I never stood a chance with her.
Not the first time. Not this time. The truth is, she’s owned my heart since the first night I met her.
I press a kiss to her head and gently slide out from beneath her.
She mumbles something incoherent and rolls onto her side, reaching for the empty space I left behind.
I pause, hand on the edge of the mattress, and watch her for another second before pushing from the bed.
After grabbing a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor, I pull them on as I walk.
The floorboards creak as I head into the kitchen, my body reminding me I’m not exactly unscathed. Last night might’ve been too much exertion. Every step accentuates the dull throb in my ribs.
I fill a carafe with water and press the button to start the coffee pot. The bean grinder fires up, and I immediately regret the loud buzzing. Hoping it doesn’t wake her, I open the fridge to see what I can throw together for breakfast. I’m surprised to find it fully stocked.
Abby… She probably deserves a raise.
Filling my hands, I grab eggs, bacon, and butter before nudging the door shut with my elbow. I place it all on the counter beside the stove and note the loaf of bread beside the toaster.
She definitely deserves a raise.
On the stove, I warm a pan to make Reese’s breakfast. The sizzle of bacon fills the air, mixing with the rich, woody scent of coffee. I take a sip from my cup, resting it back on the counter to flip the eggs.
“Since when do you cook breakfast?” I turn, spatula in hand, to find her leaning against the doorframe. My T-shirt hangs off her shoulder, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. She looks exhausted, but there’s color in her cheeks again, other than the bruising.
I smirk. “I had to learn when I didn’t have a beautiful co-ed to do it for me, because I stupidly left her.”
Her brow arches, and she pushes off the frame with a familiar playful glint in her eye. “Smooth… for an old man.”
“Old man?” I feign offense. “I’m still faster and stronger than you, baby.”
“You forgot cockier.”
I shrug, flipping the eggs. “That, too.”
She moves closer, perching on one of the stools at the counter, watching me with quiet amusement. “I can’t believe you actually know what you’re doing in the kitchen.”
“Survival,” I state matter-of-factly. “A man gets tired of protein bars and MREs after a year or two.”
She laughs softly, but it fades as her gaze drifts toward the window—the stretch of city beyond it. I set a plate in front of her and pour her a mug of coffee, adding a splash of milk to it. She lifts her fork, but her attention isn’t on the food. It’s out the window.
“You’re safe here,” I promise, taking the barstool beside her.
She nods, her eyes lifting to mine. “I know. But for how long?”
“Forever.”
She pushes her eggs around her plate with her fork. “I need to finish the story, Chris. Mattis said he traced the chain of command. That memo… If I can connect it to the authorization order, it’ll blow the whole thing open.”
I knew this was coming. Part of me has been dreading this conversation, hoping she would want a little more time to heal before getting right back to work. “You’re not working alone anymore,” I decide firmly. “Not after what happened.”
Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth. “I never said I was.”
“You don’t have to. I know that look, Reese. You’re already halfway out the door in your mind, planning your next move.”
She leans back, exhaling sharply as her fingers aimlessly play with the bracelet around her wrist. “You think I want to go through that again? You think I want to risk everything? I have to, Chris. Those men killed innocent people. They killed Adeya’s daughter. If I don’t tell the world, who will?”
I run a hand down my face, fighting the instinct to shake sense into her. “You can tell their story. You will. But not from some motel room with a target on your back. You’ll do it from here, or from Aegis headquarters, where I know you’re protected.”
Her eyes flash. “So you’re just going to dictate what I can and can’t do now?”
My jaw tightens, and I gruff, “As your Daddy? Yes.”
Then she laughs. It’s a soft, incredulous sound that makes my chest ache and agitates me all at once. “You really just said that?”
“Yeah,” I say, meeting her eyes. “And I meant it.”
Her lips part, and she pauses for a moment, her brain fumbling to find words. “You think you can just step back into my life, and—”
“No,” I cut in, my voice gentler. “I don’t think I can just step back in. I know I already have. Because the second I thought I lost you, Reese… I’m done pretending I can keep my distance.”
“I don’t want you to keep your distance.”
“Then you get Daddy in the bedroom and out. I might have fucked up once, but you’ll learn to trust that I know what’s best for you.”
Her eyes are soft when she turns toward me, but there’s pain in them, too. “You left me, Chris.”
“I know.” The words scrape my throat raw. “And I’ve regretted doing it every damn day since.”
She looks down, tracing the rim of her mug with her fingers. “Don’t ever hurt me like that again.”
I reach across the counter and gently take her hand from the mug, cupping it in mine.
Her fingers tremble, but she doesn’t pull away.
I drag my thumb across her knuckles, guilt bubbling over the pain I caused.
“I won’t,” I promise, meaning the two words with every fiber of my being.
“But I need you to meet me halfway, baby. You want justice? We’ll get it.
You want to finish the story? We’ll make sure it gets out.
But you do it safely. You stay here, with me, until we know the people behind this can’t touch you. ”
Her gaze searches mine. “And if I don’t agree?”
“Then I’ll tie you to that damn bed if I have to,” I growl. “Because I’d rather have you pissed at me for the rest of your life than brave and buried.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she snarks, unable to hold back the tiny upward curl at the corners of her bruised lips.
“Maybe.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“But I’m yours.”
Her cheeks flush, and she squeezes my hand. “You’re still bossy as hell.”
“Occupational hazard.” I chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah,” she murmurs, and finally—finally—she takes a bite of her breakfast.
I sit back, watching her eat, a small smile playing at the corner of my mouth.
The world outside is still dangerous. There are men who’d kill us both before breakfast if they could.
But here, in this kitchen, with the morning sun spilling through the windows and the smell of coffee filling the air, this almost feels normal.
She looks up after a few bites, eyes catching mine. “So what now?”
“Now?” I say, leaning back in my chair. “We make a plan. You rest, I call Mattis and Jagger, and we start piecing together the rest of the trail. Once we know who’s behind this, we burn them down.”
“And my story?”
I nod. “You’ll finish it. You’ll tell the truth. And when I know you’re safe, you’ll publish it.”
Her expression softens, but there’s still the spark of defiance that made me fall in love with her. “You realize I don’t take orders easily.”
“Oh, I know.” I round the counter to stand beside her. “That’s why I give them.”
She looks up at me, eyes glinting with a challenge. “And what happens when I don’t listen?”
I lean down and rasp against her ear. “Then I get to remind you who’s in charge.”