Chapter 16 #2
He was close enough to see the tremor in her hands and the way her breath came too fast and shallow. “You climbed our gate, didn’t you?”
Her chin jerked in a tight, almost imperceptible nod.
“Hurt?”
She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the ground before meeting his again. Then she whispered, “I twisted my ankle on the way down.”
Rowan exhaled, slow and controlled, the breath curling in the cold air. Of course, she had. “Then let’s get you inside so I can look at it and strap it up for you.”
The night seemed to hold its breath with them, the only sound the distant call of a nightbird and the faint rustle of the team adjusting their positions in the dark. Then her shoulders sagged slightly as if the fight leaked out of her.
Rowan closed the last stretch between them, “Come on.” He reached for her elbow, his grip gentle but firm, giving her the option to pull away if she needed to. “Before Gael starts whining about his beauty sleep.”
Behind them, the team melted back into the dark, their silhouettes blending into the night as seamlessly as they’d disappeared.
Only Gael lingered, watching them with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
He shook his head once, muttering under his breath, “Jesus, Rowan,” before turning toward the house.
No doubt he was going to call his man to tell him the whole story.
Half of the spec ops world will know I’ve gone soft by fucking dawn.
Enya’s weight leaned into his side as he guided her forward.
Her limp was subtle, but he felt it in the way her steps were off-kilter and the way her breath hitched with each one they took, followed by a quiet hiss of pain she wasn’t quite able to hide.
If he didn’t think she’d have a complete meltdown, he would carry her to the house.
Finally, they made it to the house. He adjusted his grip, steadying her as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen.
The scent of fresh coffee greeted them, but there was no sign of Gael, the dogs, or the damn cat.
The floorboards creaked under their weight, the sound swallowed by the hum of the refrigerator and the distant tick of the grandfather clock in the hall.
“Have a seat. You want some water or some coffee while I go grab the med kit from the bathroom?”
Enya’s fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve, just lightly, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she was allowed to hold on.
Rowan didn’t shake her off as he led her toward the table, where the overhead light cast long shadows.
He pulled out a chair and guided her into it with a hand on her shoulder.
Rowan crouched beside her, just low enough to meet her eyes. “You want to tell me what happened?”
“I didn’t know where else to go. You have Rain, so I came here.” She’d said that already.
“So coffee? Water?”
“Um, coffee, please. With sugar and milk.”
“You got it.” He studied her for a long moment before he went to pour her drink from the pot.
Her fingers were digging into the worn wood of the chair.
She had huge dark smudges under her eyes like bruises.
Her jaw clenched every time she shifted her weight off that twisted ankle.
He decided that she wasn’t just exhausted; much like Rain, she was running on fumes.
“Here you go.” He placed the mug on the table, then doctored it with a couple of spoons of sugar and some milk, then pushed it across the table to her before turning to pour his own.
“Thanks.”
“Do your folks know you’re here?”
Enya studied the coffee as if it held tomorrow night’s lottery numbers and she needed to memorize them, then shook her head. “No.”
Well shit. They’re gonna freak the hell out come morning.
He exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled, silently counting to ten.
When he was sure he had his temper under control, he stood and reached for the landline mounted on the wall.
The cordless handset felt cold in his palm, and the buttons were worn smooth from years of use.
He reached for the notepad with Camden’s number scribbled on it and punched it in, then pressed the phone to his ear.
Camden answered on the second ring, his voice rough with sleep. “Moore.”
“Camden, it’s Rowan Salieri.” He didn’t want him to think he had something to do with her showing up here. “Enya’s here.”
A beat of silence filtered down the phone, swiftly followed by the creak of a bedspring and the rustle of sheets. “What?”
“She climbed over my front gates and twisted her ankle doing it.” Rowan turned slightly, keeping Enya in his periphery. She’d gone still, her shoulders tensed like she was bracing for impact. “She can’t drive back tonight.”
Camden’s breath hissed through the line, sharp and disbelieving. “You’re telling me my daughter broke into your ranch in the middle of the night, and you’re just keeping her there?”
Rowan could already feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to try to relieve the pressure. “I’m telling you she’s safe, and she’s staying until she’s not a hazard to herself on the road.”
There was a longer pause where Rowan could practically hear Camden’s molars grinding. “I’ll come get her.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
Rowan refused to allow the other man’s anger draw his temper to the fore.
“She’s not going anywhere tonight. Let her sleep.
Let her breathe for five damn minutes without someone hovering.
” He glanced at Enya again. She’d wrapped her arms around herself, but he could see her knuckles white where she gripped her own elbows.
“She’s safer here than anywhere else. You know that. ”
Camden exhaled on a growl. “And if I say no?”
“Then you’re an idiot.” They’d had three months to help her, and even with spending barely half an hour in her presence, he could see she was worse off than when he’d brought her back from Colombia. “She’s not a prisoner. But she’s not leaving until she’s steady on her feet. That’s non-negotiable.”
The line hummed with the tension of two men used to being in charge and neither willing to yield. Then, finally, Camden’s voice, gruff and reluctant: “Fine. But I want updates. Daily.”
“Done.”
“And if she—”
Rowan cut him off. “She’s fine. I’ll keep her that way.” He didn’t wait for a response. He ended the call with a quiet click and made sure the dial tone buzzed in his ear before he set the handset back in its cradle.
When he turned around, Enya had slumped forward, her forehead resting on her arms where they lay folded on the table. Her breath came slow, and even, the rise and fall of her shoulders was steady.
Well, that’s a fine place to fall asleep.
Rowan stood there for a long moment, watching the overhead light catch the dark strands of her hair, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Like this, she looked younger, softer, less broken by a world that hadn’t been kind to her.
“I can’t leave you sleeping like that, because your neck will be pissed with you tomorrow if I do.”
He cautiously ran a hand down her back. When she murmured but didn’t pull away from him, he scooped her up into his arms. For a second, she went rigid, and he braced for her to come up swinging.
But instead, she blindsided him for the second time tonight and snuggled against his chest with her face pressed into the side of his neck.
“Rowan.”
The breathy sigh that was his name sent a ripple of heat through his veins. Determined to ignore it, he carried her toward his room and tucked her into his bed before stepping back. He settled into the recliner in the corner of the room.
If watching her sleep makes me a creep, then I’m sure the guys can figure out an appropriate nickname for that, too.