Chapter Seventeen
WAKING UP IN my parents’ house feels like slipping into a memory that doesn’t quite fit anymore.
Everything smells the same–cedar floors, salt from the sea, that faint trace of chamomile that lives in my mother’s hair–but it feels smaller somehow.
Maybe it’s because there are more people here than ever before.
Maybe it’s because I’m not alone this time.
The giant man beside me changes the whole gravity of this place.
Brenden looks completely out of place in my childhood bed, yet he belongs here more than anyone ever has.
He’s in nothing but his boxers since he has no clothes here, and he’s bigger than my dad or Sam.
The morning light turns his skin gold, his hair sticking up in ten different directions.
He’s propped up against the headboard, phone in his hands, that furrow between his brows deep enough to drown in.
He doesn’t even notice me watching him.
“What time is it?” My voice is scratchy, still heavy with sleep.
He doesn’t look up. “Little after nine-thirty.” His voice is rough, lower than usual–the sound of bad news wearing human clothes.
I sit up, pulling the blanket with me. I am wearing nothing, having gone to sleep completely naked.
I didn’t even put any underwear on before sleep.
We tangled up together, legs wound and arms around necks, before we drifted off.
Nothing happened but as much as I wanted it to this morning, his tone has cut that dream short. “What happened?”
He finally drags his eyes away from the screen. The small, soft smile he gives me is the kind that tries to hide the weight behind it. His thumb traces the line of my cheekbone, gentle, almost apologetic.
“Answer me, Brenden.”
He exhales, long and hard. “Got some news. Corver texted. They got wind of her–Natasha. The Russian boss’s daughter. Remember?”
The image flashes–the video, the screaming, the silence after. I nod. “I remember. I didn’t watch the whole thing. But … I know what that feels like. I hope she’s …” I stop when a phone rings, loud enough to jolt us both.
“My phone?”
He nods toward my desk. “Plugged it in for you last night. Was dead. Figured you’d want it charged. Though, honestly, I think your dad’s gonna have all of ours destroyed before lunch.”
He’s probably right.
I pad across the cold floor, arms wrapped around myself as goosebumps explode over my naked body, and grab the phone. My dad’s name flashes on the screen. Why is he calling when he’s downstairs?
“Hi, Papa.”
“Ah, me sweet Surry,” his voice hums through the speaker, thick and warm with that Irish rasp. “Would ye come down fer breakfast, aye?”
I grab one of Sam’s old Mariners shirts–two sizes too big, soft as sin–and nothing else. I crawl back into bed, wedge my icy feet under Brenden’s legs. He yelps, and I grin.
“Yes, we’ll be down soon. But why call? We’re literally in the same house.”
“I didn’t wanna intrude, lass,” he says, amusement in every word.
That’s my father–a warlord who doesn’t want to intrude.
“Brenden is just keeping an eye on me Papa, don’t go putting a hit out on him for being in your daughters room."
He chuckles, a low, warm sound. “Ah, me girl, ye’ve finally found a man worthy o’ ye. I’m glad he’s here. Don’t care where he sleeps so long as he treats ye right.”
I smile at Brenden, who’s half-listening, one hand scrolling, the other drawing lazy circles on my bare thigh drawing ever closer to my bare center with each swipe. “I did, huh,” I murmur, mostly to myself. “Finally found a good one.”
He looks up, curious. I shake my head. Later. His hand moves up several inches and grazes the junction between hip and thigh. He smiles evilly at me while I swat at his hand.
“We’ll be down in ten, Papa.”
Brenden mouths fifteen at me, then wiggles his eye brows. I roll my own eyes.
“Fifteen tops, Papa.”
“Grand so. See ye then.”
I hang up. “Welp, my dad loves you.”
Brenden stares like I’ve just told him gravity’s optional. “He does? I figured he’d be pissed I’m in here with you.”
“Nope. He’s thrilled. Said you’re worthy. Which I guess is a good thing since you say you aren’t leaving me.”
He puts his phone aside, rolls toward me, wraps me up until I can’t tell where I end and he begins. His breath brushes my ear when he whispers, “I’m happy I’m here too.” He shifts me so we’re face-to-face, noses brushing, eyes locked. “I can’t keep it in anymore, Surry.”
My heart stutters. I notice then at some point he has removed his boxers and I can feel his erection rubbing against my center. My blood begins to boil with need.
He stares at me, his light blue eyes boring deep into my soul, his calloused thumb tucking my wild copper strands behind my ear.
I feel the rough pad of his finger trail down the sensitive skin of my chin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"I love you." The words fall from his full lips like they've been waiting years, suspended in time even before he knew me, hanging in the air between us like delicate crystal.
"I have since the first moment–you standing in my room, completely out of place but also looking like a storm that could wreck my whole world.
I know it hasn't been long, mere heartbeats compared to how long I want to be next to you, and it's been one hell of a hurricane since the second we met.
But it's true. I can feel it coursing through my veins every time I breathe, each time our skin grazes.” He shifts his pelvis forward a bit, nearly entering me, but not quite.
“You're it for me—my beginning and end."
Tears sting before I can stop them. This man, who could break mountains with his hands, is giving me his heart like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“People may call me crazy, because, well, I love you too,” I whisper.
“But I’m terrified. I’ve been hurt, Brenden.
Ruined. I can’t give you much–just my heart.
And someday, I’ll take over the family business, all of it.
That’s my life, whether I want it or not.
So if you want me, you are going to have to find a way to fit in with all this” I gesture loosely at the room around us.
” But also, you will have to be patient with me, while I learn to trust again, while I find comfort in giving pieces of myself away to another that I fought so hard to get back from the last. No matter how much I want to say all of me belongs to you, deep down, there are parts I am still working on, pieces that won't rest easy until the one who broke them pays.”
His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing away tears. “I know what I’m signing up for, Siren. And I’m not running. I want every part you’re willing to give, and I will patiently earn the rest. You’re everything, my everything..” He kisses my forehead, right where the scar splits my eyebrow.
“You need to tell me how you got this.”
“Later,” I whisper.
His mouth moves to mine, hot and possessive. I open slightly, letting his tongue entry. He shifts forward once again, and he enters me in one motion. The feeling of fullness he brings is everything I could want. As if I was covered in cracks, and he closes them.
He beings rocking slowly back and forth, thrusting in and out of me in the most intimate display. “I love you, Surry.” He thrusts again. “I will love you every day.” Again. “Until the day I die.” His speed picks up, not rough, just a little faster.
“I love you Brenden,” I say between silent breathy moans. “There is no one else I would rather be here with. Healing with. Learning with.”
Brenden lowers his forehead to mine, kissing my nose, before he once again picks up the pace.
We are short on time, but we don’t want to lose this moment.
Our mouths meet as he continues to claim me, just as I claim him with the stratching and little bites I place on his shoulder and neck.
I wrap my legs around his waist and lift my hips, allowing him better access.
“Fuck, Surry.” It’s all he has to say. He beings to grunt and I fall over the precipise. It is not a descent off the tallest mountian in the world, but it is warm. It’s comforting. It’s what my future will hold with him at my side.
Once finished, the both of us hop up and head to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick wash before we head downstairs.
“We’ve got a few minutes to get dressed before breakfast. So tell me what Corver said–that’s all the time you get.” He lightly pinches my nipple, while simultaneously kissing my ear, trying to redirect my thoughts, but I won’t let it.
While we wash, he tells me about what Corver has learned, and what he hopes to do. Just more issues and pain. Just more problems that I am at the root of.
We make it to breakfast barely on time. I’m in pajamas, Brenden’s in the same jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. Richie, Hazel, and Alisha look fresh, wearing the clothes we all keep stashed here for emergencies–our “last-minute vacation” drawers. Poor Josh, Juniper, and Brenden aren’t so lucky.
My dad stands when we walk in. “Mornin’, me loves,” he says, voice booming but warm. “Glad t’ have such a full table, even if the reason’s not a happy one. Bridget’s gone out fer clothes fer ye all–took a few o’ the guards with her. Our home’s yer home. Treat it like yer own, aye?”
His hand rests on Ma’s shoulder. She gazes up at him like she’s still half in love and half exasperated–that’s always been them.
“Thanks, Papa,” I say, kissing his cheek before taking my seat beside him, Brenden on my right. Across from us: Richie, Hazel, Alisha. Down the table, Josh and Juniper whisper about something, probably each other. Empty seats wait like ghosts of who’s missing.
Then–a familiar voice.
“SISSY!”
I whip around. Selene stands in the doorway, pale but smiling. For a heartbeat, I forget to breathe. Then I’m running, slippers silent on marble, heart slamming against my ribs.
I stop just short of touching her–scared she’s still too fragile.