Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
IAN
I can’t stop touching her.
Not in a sexual way, but to remind myself that Rose is okay.
That she’s here. Beside me. That I wasn’t too late.
Although. She’s not really okay. How could she be?
Attacked again, and this time at home. Right behind her apartment. She was just taking the trash out; a normal activity she shouldn’t have had to think twice about. But afterwards, Rose told me in this achingly tiny voice, “I should have looked around before I went outside. I should have been more careful.”
No. She shouldn’t have to worry about something like that.
Rose shouldn’t have to worry about walking out her back door and being grabbed, terrorized, hurt ? —
Last night, once I got her to my house—no way was she staying at her apartment—I saw the bruises that fucker left on her.
The large one on her back from being slammed up against the garage. Fingertip-shaped marks on her cheeks and jaw. And when I saw the bruises on her breast—a violent purple against her creamy skin—it took everything in me not to break things.
He touched her. Violated her. My sweet Rose.
I’m so fucking angry, but I have to lock it down. She needs me to be gentle and patient, not angry and raging.
But it’s hard, because I can’t stop seeing it. My beautiful girlfriend pinned to the wall, a man touching her, hurting her… and the terrified look on her face.
It makes me sick to my stomach.
I should have been there to stop it. If I’d only cut the meeting short and come over fifteen minutes earlier. Or if I’d just let Baxter out in the backyard instead of taking him for a walk around the block. I would have been the one taking the trash out, and Rose wouldn’t be traumatized and scared all over again.
But with those questions comes an even worse one. What if I’d been too late? What if I’d stayed at work to chat with Chris for another ten minutes? Or I’d stopped at the florist to pick up flowers instead of coming straight here from my house?
What else would that fucker have done to her?
Every time I think about it, I’m struck with a desperate need to touch Rose. To hug her. Kiss her cheek. Hold her hand. Anything to reassure myself that she’s here. That she might not be okay right now, but in time, she will be.
I’ll make sure of it. Whatever Rose needs, I’ll give it to her. Protection. Comfort. Reassurance. Anything .
I’ve never felt this protective before. Like I’d slay dragons to keep Rose safe.
Is this how Cash felt when Ari was in danger? And Ben, when Thea was hurt?
It’s terrifying. But it also puts something in stark relief. The feelings I have for Rose are more than just affection. They run so much deeper than that.
Before, I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, hesitating. My past still had its claws in me.
But now? I think I’ve leaped over the edge. I’m falling, and I’m not afraid of it.
“Ian?” Rose stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at me with a worried expression. “I forgot my phone at the apartment. I didn’t even think about it last night. Is there time to go over there before Zane gets here?”
It looks like going back to her apartment is the absolute last thing she wants to do, and I can’t blame her.
“I’ll take care of it, hun.” I hop off the stool and cross the kitchen, gathering her into my arms. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
Rose tilts her head back to look at me. “Are you going over there? Leaving?” Her voice rises on the last word; a small tell that lets me know she doesn’t want me going anywhere.
“No, I’m not leaving you.” I brush her still-damp hair back from her face, noticing the bluish shadows beneath her eyes that weren’t there yesterday. “I can have Zane do it. He won’t mind stopping over there after our meeting.”
“Okay.” She sags a little. “When is he coming over again?”
“Ten.” I guide Rose over to the island and settle her on a stool, then kiss her on the cheek. “It’ll be Zane and Finn—you haven’t met Finn yet, but he’s a great guy.”
As I fix a cup of coffee for her—extra cream, brown sugar, the only way she drinks it—Rose asks, “So… what are they going to do? If the police are already involved… What can Blade and Arrow Security do that the police can’t?”
I set the coffee in front of Rose and slide onto the stool next to her. “They can help with surveillance. Added protection. And focusing on the investigation—the police are good, but they have a lot of cases. Blade and Arrow will make yours a priority.”
“But—” She frowns. “What about the cost? I’m not sure…”
“It’s fine, hun. First off, these guys are friends. They want to help. And remember I told you they do pro-bono work? They’re not going to charge for this.”
Although I might offer to pay something. But Rose doesn’t have to know that.
After a brief hesitation, she nods. “Okay. Maybe I can donate a painting? They could sell it or keep it or… just something.”
“That’s a good idea, hun.” I lean over to kiss her. “I think they’d appreciate that.”
“Okay. Good.” Then she takes a sip of her coffee and sighs. A tiny smile tugs at her lips. “Ian. This is even better than at the diner. Thank you.”
My chest loosens a little. It’s just a small thing, but to see Rose smiling after everything—it’s a relief.
Last night I was really worried.
Not just that she couldn’t stop shaking, or that she barely touched the food I made her, or that she resolutely refused to cry… But the nightmares .
Once an hour, at least, she woke me with her screams. Begging to be left alone. Making these terrible sounds like she was in pain. And each time I’d hug her close and soothe her back to sleep, but the nightmares came right back again.
It was horrible. And I felt so helpless.
I’ve imagined Rose in my bed a hundred times—snuggled in my arms, her hair spilling across my shoulder, her legs tangled with mine—but I didn’t want it to happen like this .
“Can I get you something to eat, hun?” She’s still much too pale, and after picking at her dinner last night, she needs to eat something. “Eggs? Bacon? Muffins? A breakfast sandwich?”
Her brows pull into a little V. “I’m not really hungry. I’m sorry.”
“Just something before Zane and Finn come over.” Reaching over, I cup her cheek, stroking my thumb across her soft skin. “I’ll make you anything you want.”
Rose stares at me for a second, weariness darkening her gaze. Then she takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Okay. How about some eggs? And toast.” She pauses, and that tiny smile reappears. “But I’d better help you, so you don’t set any kitchen appliances on fire again.”
Emotion swells inside me. She’s so damn strong, but I wish she didn’t have to be.
I want to say so many things to her, but I’m afraid of messing things up. Of telling Rose something she’s not ready to hear.
You don’t have to be strong around me.
You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.
I’m falling for you.
Any of the levity we achieved over breakfast disappeared the instant Zane rang the doorbell.
As soon as my phone buzzed, alerting me to his arrival, Rose’s smile dropped.
We had actually been laughing; she told me about that awful Diem’s new series, the one with paintings of sewers and hot dog rolls. And we were coming up with other ridiculous things to add to the collection—pigeon poop and discarded parking tickets and crumpled coffee cups—and snickering at each one of them.
“But they’re so poignant ,” Rose added with a straight face before dissolving into giggles. “Imagine someone buying a painting of a half-eaten hot dog roll and displaying it in their house. How will they explain it to their guests? That's not meaningful. It’s just silly.”
So breakfast ended up being okay. Rose actually ate something. The lines of worry on her face smoothed out a bit. She was more like herself again.
But now we’re sitting in the living room with Zane and Finn, and the mood is significantly less cheerful.
It’s not their fault. Zane came in with a smile and he held out a small tote bag to Rose. “This is from Elle. She wanted to send over some gifts to help you feel better. And she’s going to call tomorrow. Once you’ve gotten your feet under you.”
And Finn shook her hand, saying kindly, “I’m Finn Taylor. It’s nice to meet you. We’ll figure this out for you, Rose.”
Everything was pleasant and Rose smiled at all the right times, but it didn’t negate the undercurrent of tension in the room. Or how her hand trembled in mine as we took a seat on the couch.
I wish she didn’t have to be here for this meeting at all. I wish I could shield her from all of it.
But instead, Zane is very gently asking Rose about the events from last night, and I’m swallowing back the urge to tell him to stop. That it’s upsetting her. That she’s already been through it with the police, and she shouldn’t have to talk about it again.
Except I know it’s his job, and Blade and Arrow really are the best. And while I know I can protect Rose, it’s not enough. We need to figure out who’s behind this, and I’m not willing to put all my trust in the police to do it.
I listen with gritted teeth as Rose describes the man who hurt her. A growl rumbles in my chest as she repeats what he said.
That he’d kill her. That it would be fun.
I’ve never wanted to hurt someone more.
When Rose says, “I punched him. In the throat. Like Ian taught me. But it was my left hand, so it wasn’t strong enough,” I’m caught between pride and horror. Pride that she used what I showed her, that she didn’t let her fear take over, but horror that she was in that position to begin with.
Zane gives her an approving nod. “Most people would panic in that situation. But you kept your head. That’s really impressive.”
“It really is,” adds Finn. “And with your left hand, no less.”
A faint flush of pleasure tinges her cheeks. “I was so scared.” She glances over at me. “But I tried to focus on the things you showed me. To remind myself I wasn’t helpless.”
I rub Rose’s shoulders, massaging at the knots of muscle there. “You’re definitely not helpless, hun. Not at all.”
“So. The next thing.” Zane exhales, hesitating. His mouth flattens into an unhappy line. “We heard from the police—Oliver Kingston called us first thing this morning—and they got some information from the man who attacked you.”
The color in her face fades. “They did?”
“Yes.” He glances down at his phone for a second, then back up to meet her gaze. “His name is Jasper Black. He’s been arrested on drug charges, one count of assault against his roommate, but he’s never served any serious time.”
Rose frowns. “I’ve never heard of him. And I’ve definitely never met him before.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.” Zane hesitates again, and that’s when I know this news is not going to be good. “He’s claiming he was hired to come after you.”
My heart stutters. What?
“ What ?” Rose clutches my hand, her nails digging in. “Hired? By who? Why ?”
“He doesn’t know.” Frustration laces his words. “Black claims he was approached at a bar in Brooklyn. He was paid five hundred up front and promised another grand after to wait for you at your apartment and scare you. Rough you up a little.”
“A little ?” I bite out. “The fucker slammed her against the wall. The bruises?—”
“We know,” Finn soothes. “Obviously, this guy is being charged with assault. Regardless of what he claims to have been told to do.”
“But it brings another question to light,” adds Zane. “After this, we need to look at what happened at the studio differently.”
“It wasn’t random.” Rose’s tone is flat. “Was it?”
Finn sighs. “It could be. But… chances are the two incidents are connected.”
Rose shivers, and I wrap my arm around her, drawing her into my side. “I should have been more careful,” she says quietly, repeating the same thing she told me before.
“No.” I touch her chin, turning her head to look at me. “The police told you it was random. There was no reason to think otherwise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Ian is right.” Zane lifts his chin at me before turning his attention back to Rose. “You couldn’t have anticipated this. Don’t blame yourself.”
She stares at him for a moment before giving him a tiny nod. But from her expression, I don’t think she’s entirely convinced.
“What next, then?” I glance between Zane and Finn. “Protecting Rose, obviously.”
“Of course,” Zane agrees. “And looking into possible suspects. We’re going to get Leo—he’s our tech guy—on this. Once we have a list of possibles, he’ll find everything there is to know about them.”
Rose sucks in a breath and blows it out shakily. “But no one has ever threatened me. I’ve never gotten weird mail or anything. I can’t even begin to think of who might want to hurt me.”
A shadow moves across Finn’s face. “A lot of times, it’s the last person you’d expect.” After a pause, he adds apologetically, “It’s not pleasant, but we have to consider everyone .”