CHAPTER 14 - BRYNN
“That doesn’t look good,” I whisper, sitting forward in the front seat of Grizz’s truck. Large, ominous clouds roll across the sky in the distance like white wash from a crashing wave, dangerous and deadly, and swallowing everything within its wake.
The mountain, the trees—they’re all slowly disappearing in the distance as the storm moves closer and closer.
It’s breathtaking in the most frightening way possible to see just how fast things can change.
This morning had been magnificent, with stunning blue skies that made the snow and the pools we visited sparkle magically and glitter like glass. Even Victoria had been tolerable, her more holier than thou attitude softened by the way she spoke about the town and its history.
The passion in her voice was genuine and I couldn’t help but be sucked in, wanting to hear more.
She loves Hallowed Springs.
This town is her life—her reason for breathing.
Which is why I’m not surprised at the way she usually looks at Grizz and the club. In her mind, they taint her vision of how things should be and have always been, but surely if she just opens her eyes a little, she could realize how much value they add to this place.
And if she opens them a little wider, she might also see how much value her daughter adds to.
“Brynn?”
I whip my head around, startled by Grizz’s voice.
“Sorry,” I say, pressing a hand to my racing heart. “I was lost in the clouds.”
He nods toward the sky, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, there’s something heavy coming in. One of the boys from the fire station mentioned they’ve been tracking it on the comms. Hopefully it will run out of steam, but we need to get inside and get everything locked down just in case.”
I follow his lead, leaping out of the truck.
Even in the few minutes it took to get from The Gallows to Grizz’s cabin, the temperature had dropped dramatically. Small gusts of wind whip at my hair, bringing with them the lingering smell of smoke that I’m sure is going to take days to wash away.
Grizz beats me to the back door of the truck, placing his hand on the handle. “Jon Bon’s asleep,” he announces, peering through the window. “I’ll carry her in and put her on the bed.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Wasn’t asking.” He already has the door open, scooping Jovie up and cradling her in his arms as if she weighs nothing at all—and I’ve tried to carry this kid myself.
My heart thuds harder inside my chest as I watch him carry her effortlessly up the porch steps, her soot-streaked face tucked into his shoulder. She doesn’t stir, doesn’t flinch. Not even when he shuffles her to reach for the front door.
That’s how comfortable she is with him, and I can’t say that about many people.
My kid is like a radar for bad intentions.
Her instincts are sharp—sharper than most adults I know.
Jovie likes who she likes, and stays away from those she doesn’t, and the way Grizz has connected with her since the moment we met… there’s something so special about that.
There’s something deeply intimate about watching someone else care for your child—to see someone go out of their way to protect the most important person in your world.
When they don’t have to.
Swallowing back my racing thoughts, I grab mine and Jovie’s things—the few we could salvage—and hurry into the cabin behind them.
Being in Grizz’s space for the second day in a row brings a smile to my lips, my eyes floating toward the small kitchen counter.
I swear I could feel him for hours after I left, his hands on my thighs, the way he spread them and pressed his hips forward.
“Jesus,” I whisper, pressing my lips together and turning away, forcing myself to move across to the fireplace. To a place that didn’t have any little memories attached to it.
Yet.
I’m going to hell.
A handful of embers glow in the bottom of the old fireplace, just enough to hit my face with some heat—at least that’s what I’ll say if he asks.
Sure, it’s the warmth from the fire, not my entire body burning up at the thought of Grizz’s hands on my body, or the smell of cedar and leather in the air.
And it’s especially not the sight of him stripping his shirt over his head as he steps silently out of the bedroom and pulls the door closed behind him.
“She’s out,” he says, his voice low as he takes a few steps to the bathroom door and tosses the shirt inside. “Though she is in the center, so you might have to fight a little for some space.”
What is breathing exactly?
Because my body instantly forgets how.
I knew Grizz had tattoos, and I knew he was strong as fucking hell, but there was nothing that could have prepared me for the finely tuned, god-like body that lives beneath his clothes, or the amount of ink decorating each inch of skin.
I can’t tear my eyes away. I’m lost in the patterns and pictures that twist and swirl across his abdomen with what seems like no rhyme or reason.
Though I’m not even sure it matters, because there is something so quintessentially Grizz within the chaos of colors.
They decorate from up around his neck and face, down past his belt line—two haunting eyes across his abdomen.
There are several beats of silence before I manage to drag my eyes away. “Sorry, I… uh… It’s fine,” I stammer, my tongue struggling to get around my words. “I’m used to Jovie’s bed hogging ways.”
He crosses the room and crouches down beside the fireplace, reaching for another log and tossing it inside. His back is almost as covered in ink as his front, and his muscles ripple as he moves, highlighting the pure strength within his body.
A sharp whistling sound fills the room, and Grizz looks back over his shoulder. “Crap. Storm’s rolling in quick. I need to run out and get some more firewood before it gets covered in snow and soaked.”
I nod, taking a step toward the door. “I’ll help—”
“No, you won’t,” he growls, the air shifting in the room as he stands to full height, brushing his hands on his jeans. “This time, you’ll stay inside, out of danger.”
I shudder, the warmth I felt moments ago suddenly turning cold as we face off.
“You’re mad,” I murmur, my brow falling into a sharp frown.
I thought I’d felt a sharpness in his tone since shit had gone down at The Gallows, but I put it down to the stress of the situation. Turns out, it’s more.
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. “You ran into a fucking burning building,” he growls. “You didn’t even think, you just ran straight into the fire, not giving a shit what happens to you. You can’t do that!”
I cross my arms, fighting the lump forming in my throat. “What else am I supposed to do? Sit there? Hope that someone else cares enough to help?”
“I care!” The words feel like they’re coming from deep in his chest. “I fucking care.”
The room feels smaller now, the wind howling and rumbling around us as if the storm is coming from inside. From between us.
His chest rises and falls hard, his fists clenched at his sides.
“I had to get to her,” I shoot back, my voice cracking. “I had to get to Jovie.”
“I know that!” he snaps, stepping closer so there is less than a breath between us. “But what happens to her if you don’t make it out? You think about that? You just ran in there like you didn’t even care if you came back out.”
“I didn’t care,” I whisper, the truth falling out before I can stop it. “If something had happened to her… if I didn’t get to her in time… what the hell would’ve been the point of walking out?”
“And what about Jovie?” he says, exhaling and dragging a hand down his face. “What happens to her when you risk yourself next time and things don’t turn out so great?”
“You don’t get it—”
“I do get it!” Grizz’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I get what it feels like to have something that is so important, you would throw yourself on the fire just to keep it safe.”
The fight is draining as fast as it came, and for the first time since Grizz and I met, I see an emotion in his eyes that I would never expect.
Fear.
Fear for me.
“You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
I blink, unsure I heard right. “There’s never been anyone else.”
“Well, now there fucking is,” he declares, the fear in his eyes transforming into something else.
“Grizz,” I whisper as the space between us evaporates. I raise my hand to his chest, the heat sinking into my palm and instantly warming my body, this time, in a different way, in an exciting and delicious way.
He reaches for me, his hand curling around my jaw. It’s gentle, but firm enough to keep me from looking away, forcing my focus on him.
“Don’t do that again,” he orders gruffly, and before I can answer or even breathe, his mouth crashes against mine.
It’s not soft.
It’s desperate.
As if he wants me to feel and taste the fear and frustration he’s feeling so that he doesn’t have to say the words out loud. My hands slide up around his neck, pulling him closer like he’s the only solid thing in the room, and my legs at any moment might give way.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard and his forehead is pressed against mine, our lips still brushing with every heavy breath.
“Next time,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “You wait for me.”
I could argue, rant, and rave about being able to look after myself.
But I don’t.
Because it’s nice, for the first time, to know maybe I don’t have to.
“Okay,” I agree, my nails scratching at the back of his neck, neither of us moving despite the growing storm raging around us, the wind howling loudly as if it’s a warning alarm.
Grizz exhales hard, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before stepping back.
“Stay inside,” he mutters, grabbing his jacket from beside the door. “I need to hurry and grab that firewood before we’re buried in six feet of snow.”
I just nod, reaching up to touch my swollen lips as he steps outside.
He’s swallowed by the raging winds, the door slamming closed behind him.
Maybe I should be scared of the storm out there.
But all I can think about is the one he’s left right here.
Inside me.