Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Reese
A broken cry tears from my throat as pain jolts up my arm, sharp and hot. “Ow?—”
Griffin’s gaze drops, and the instant he sees the bruises, his whole body stiffens. His shoulders coil tight, tension snapping through him. “What the hell happened to you?”
I try to pull back. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” His jaw tightens. His nostrils flare, his chest rising in harsh bursts. Then his hand shoots up, tugging at my sunglasses. “I hate these damn things. Get them off your face. I can’t see your eyes.”
“Griffin—”
He’s already slipped them away, and the moment he sees the cut near my eye, his expression shatters. His breath saws in and out, and he drags a hand down his face, over his beard, like he can’t stand being in his own skin.
“Fuck.” His voice is low, gutted. He grabs my other hand, shoving the sleeve back. The bruises bloom ugly in the light, and he swears under his breath. “Oh, my God.” His hand trembles as it hovers near my scarf. “Take it off.”
I shake my head as tears continue their silent descent. “No.”
His voice thunders in the narrow space between us, the porch boards vibrating under my feet. “Take it off, Reese. Now.”
I rip the knot loose with shaking fingers, the scarf sliding to the floor, the purple splotches around my neck now on full display in the fading light.
“Christ,” he breathes, his knees nearly buckling like he might vomit right there. He stumbles back a half-step until his shoulders hit the doorframe. “That piece of shit did this to you?”
“Yes.” The word is barely audible, jagged on my tongue. “But it’s getting better?—”
“Better?” His voice cracks, fury spiking. His fist slams into the doorframe so hard the wood splinters, fragments scattering. He doesn’t even flinch. “Why the hell would you go back to a man like that?”
“I never wanted to go back to him.” The denial rips out of me, fierce and broken. My hands fly up, waving in the air like I could erase the memory, erase the marks he left behind. “You think I chose this?”
Griffin’s chest heaves, his eyes blazing. He takes a stumbling step across the porch, raking a hand over his head. “Then why? Why would you leave me?”
“Because—” My voice shatters, hysteria clawing up my throat. “Because he was going to hurt you!”
The words rip out of me, tangled with sobs, and I can’t stop them now.
My whole body shakes, tears streaming unchecked.
“He was going to hurt you, Griffin. And Pearl. He knew things—things no one should know unless they were watching. He knew about this cabin, how remote it is. He knew Pearl didn’t have cameras on her back patio. Do you understand?”
Griffin staggers back, his spine hitting the porch rail with a dull thud. He goes frighteningly still, gripping it so hard the wood groans. Rage, grief, disbelief—all of it twists his face. “What do you mean he threatened me and Pearl?”
“He said if I didn’t go back with him, he’d destroy you. Kill you. But he’d start with Pearl, so it would hurt worse.” My chest heaves, my voice breaking. “Do you understand now? I couldn’t let him touch her. I couldn’t let him touch you.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” His eyes lift to mine, glassy. “That night—why didn’t you tell me what he said?”
“Because he warned me not to.” I press my fingers to the spot throbbing on my temple. “He told me if he suspected I’d told anyone, he’d kill you for fun. Slowly. And make me watch.” My body convulses with a sob, my voice cracking on every word. “I couldn’t, Griffin. I couldn’t risk it.”
“Jesus, Reese.”
I meet his eyes, my throat raw, my soul scraped bare. “He wanted his pound of flesh. I let him have it. And I’d do it again. Every day. If it kept you safe.”
Griffin’s face crumples. One second he’s across from me, the next his arms are crushing me to his chest, pulling me in so hard my ribs protest.
He holds me like he’s drowning, then jerks away, cracking his knuckles as his fists clench tight. “I’m flying to New York right now. I’m going to hunt that motherfucker down?—”
“No.” I claw at his shirt, desperate to calm him. “No. Hold me. Please just hold me.”
His body shudders against mine, tight as a bowstring, his voice ragged against my hair. “I’m going to fucking kill him. They’ll never find his body.”
I tilt my face up, the world dropping away until all I see is him. My fingers trace his beard. “No, you’re not. Promise me, Griffin. You’re going to live the most beautiful life, because you deserve it.”
His eyes search mine, fierce and tormented. “He can’t get away with this, Reese.”
“You know as well as I do what it’s like among the rich and entitled.
They get away with worse than this every damn day.
” A mirthless laugh slips past my lips. “His mother handed me a check—half a million dollars. Said I could use it however I wanted. New start, hush money, blood money, whatever label makes it easier to swallow.”
The horror on his face guts me. “Hush money.”
I swallow hard. “I guess if nothing else, it proves they had to pay me off for something, right?”
He grips my arms like he’s anchoring me. “And you’re okay with that?”
I bury my head against his chest, gripping like I might dissolve without him. “I’m standing here in your arms when I thought I’d be dead by now. So yes, I’m okay with it. I’m with you. And that’s all that matters.”
His voice breaks on a loud exhale. “When you handed me that check and told me goodbye… Christ, Reese. I thought I was nothing to you.”
I shake my head so hard it hurts. “Don’t you get it? You’re everything to me. I love you, Griffin Topete. Even if it doesn’t matter anymore, even if it’s too late. I love you.”
The words hang between us, foreign and familiar all at once. I’d dreamed of saying them while curled in his arms, or whispered against his ear while we danced. Not like this—quivering, broken, covered in marks. But the truth demands its freedom.
“I’ve loved you for so long.”
Something softens—his eyes shuttering for a breath, his chest lifting like he’s trying to hold himself together. A faint, almost disbelieving smile tugs at his lips, gone as quickly as it comes. “You love me, or you’re in love with me? Because it sure as hell does matter.”
“Well, let’s see. I’ll fly to Vegas tonight to marry you. I’ll give you four kids, or five, or ten. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night. We can stay in Oregon or move anywhere. I don’t care. I just want you.”
But it might not be that easy now, and I need to accept that fact.
I swipe at my eyes, useless against the flood of tears. “Sabine said you’d been in Portland. So I thought you had gone back to Lauren. To accept her proposal. To get married.”
His brow furrows, like the words don’t register. “What? I wasn’t with Lauren.”
“But Sabine said?—”
“I was in Portland because my dad died.” His voice cracks on the last word, hoarse with grief and exhaustion.
My hands fly to my mouth. “Oh, my God.” The sob rips out of me before I can stop it, and I bury my head in his chest, clinging like I can hold all the broken pieces of us together. “Griffin, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been here. How are you holding up? How’s Pearl?”
“I’m exhausted.” Griffin strokes my hair, his touch so gentle against my torn skin. “Between losing you and losing him, it’s been too much.”
“You haven’t lost me, but I will give you space. Eat something, get some sleep—there’s plenty of food in that basket. Call me when you’re ready, whenever you want, okay? I’m here whenever you need me. Now go rest.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes fierce through the fog of grief and fatigue. “No.”
I blink. “No?”
“You’re not leaving.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “You’re coming in.”
A tiny, disbelieving laugh slips past my sorrow. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, firm and certain, like it’s the only thing in the world that makes sense. “Come on.”
We step inside, Griffin setting the basket down on the counter with a dull thud.
“When was the last time you ate?” I ask, glancing around the kitchen.
He frowns, like he has to dig through the memories. “Yesterday, maybe? I had coffee this morning, if that counts.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think it does.”
Pulling the basket open, I start unloading—cheese, meat, crackers. Something simple. Something to ground us. I open the wine and pour two glasses, sliding one toward him.
He takes a slow sip, his eyes cast downward, before setting it aside. Then he takes mine too, placing both glasses on the counter. Griffin closes the small distance between us and slides his hands along my jaw, his thumbs drifting like satin over my cheeks. “You’re here.”
“For as long as you want me. And beyond, because I’m never leaving you again.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll give you everything.”
And then he kisses me.
Soft at first. Tender. His lips brush mine with a hesitation that nearly undoes me, coaxing instead of demanding, like he’s afraid I’ll splinter beneath the weight of him.
The faint taste of wine lingers on his mouth—dark and rich, mingling with the clean, almost wild scent of him. Pine and soap. Man and earth. It seeps into me with every inhale until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
His beard grazes my skin, rough against the delicate cut near my cheekbone, and the contrast makes me shiver. It lights a spark low in my belly, and I can’t stop the broken sound that slips out of me. A whimper—need tangled with relief.
Griffin answers with a low, guttural sound, vibrating straight into my core. His hands bracket my ribs, firm but careful, as though even his touch could be too much. Still, I lean in harder, chasing the heat of his kiss like oxygen.
Tears burn, blur everything, but his lips keep moving against mine, slow and sure, pulling me deeper, gentler, until I’m drowning in him. The wet slide of his tongue grazes mine, tentative at first, then surer when I respond, and the taste of him fills me, overwhelms me.