18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Wrenley
The first thing I feel is warmth.
Max’s chest at my back, Liam’s legs tangled with mine, the room filled with the quiet rhythm of shared breathing. It’s mid-morning, light is just starting to creep in through the curtains, soft and golden. My body aches all over, but the feeling of safety holds me still.
Until Liam twitches. At first, it’s subtle.
A tightening of the thigh resting beneath mine.
A shift in his breathing. Then it escalates.
His arm jerks. His jaw clenches. A strangled sound escapes his throat like he’s being choked.
I lift my head from his shoulder and place my hand gently on his chest.
“Liam,” I whisper, trying not to startle him.
Before I can say it again, Max is already moving. He grabs me and rolls, dragging me across his body and pushing me behind him just as Liam explodes off the mattress, fists swinging, wild and panicked. Max throws his weight onto him, trying to pin him down.
“TORQUE! WRECK!” Max yells, one hand clamping Liam’s wrist. The other pressed against his chest.
The door slams open.
“Oh shit!” Torque barks, rushing in. He climbs onto the bed behind Liam, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, yanking him close, pressing their heads together, trying to steady him.
“I’ve got his legs,” Wrecker grunts, grabbing hold as Liam thrashes.
Hugo leaps onto the bed, planting himself between me and the chaos, ears flat and protective.
“Liam!” Torque says again, his voice sharp but steady. “Brother, you’re home. You’re safe. Stop fighting us.”
Hugo barks, loud and piercing. The sound seems to slice through whatever hell he’s trapped in. Liam’s body goes rigid. His chest stills, then rises in a shuddering breath. Torque doesn’t let go.
“Liam,” he repeats softly this time. “Lee, we’re here.”
Liam blinks rapidly, like he is trying to see. “Wrenley?”
“She’s fine,” Max says, still holding him steady. “She’s right here.”
I crawl out from behind Max and sit next to Liam on the bed, cupping his face with both hands. “I’m here, love,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m right here.”
His eyes lock on mine and something inside him breaks. Max and Wrecker slowly ease their grip, still watching for signs he’s going to snap again.
Torque stays close, arms still around Liam.
“We’ve got you,” I whisper.
Liam nods, breath catching, his voice hoarse. “You’re alright?”
I shake my head, wrapping my arms around him, pressing my forehead to his. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. We’re good.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, over and over. “I’m so sorry.”
They let him go, completely. His hands find my face, thumbs trembling as he wipes the tears off my cheeks. His own are falling now, silent and slow.
“It’s okay Liam. Everything’s okay.”
And at this moment, I think we both believe it.
The trees cast wide shadows across the garden, the sun just starting to rise enough to warm the stone path beneath my bare feet. I sit under the oak tree in the grass, knees tucked up, Liam’s hoodie swallowing me whole. The air smells like dew and the blooms of last night's roses.
Torque walks out carrying two mugs of coffee. He doesn’t say anything at first, just hands me one and lowers himself near me. I wrap both hands around the warmth.
“Are you alright?” he asks eventually, his voice soft like he’s afraid I’ll lie to him.
I nod, exhaling through my nose. “Yeah… I mean, that was terrifying. Watching him like that. Not being able to stop it.”
Torque watches the steam rise from his cup. “He hasn’t had one that bad in years. After he got home… they were constant. Night after night. Thought he’d rip the walls down. He’d come out swinging, like he was still over there. That’s why we couldn’t let him stand up.”
I glance over, my chest tightening. “T, what happened to him over there? I’ve never asked and he doesn’t talk about it.”
Torque shakes his head. “None of us really know. Just pieces from different things. He keeps it locked down so tight, I think sometimes he forgets he’s allowed to let it out.”
Before I can respond, the door creaks open behind us. I turn to see Liam walk out, hair still damp from the shower. Torque stands, brushing his hands on his jeans.
“Just be there for him,” he murmurs low to me. “He’s still in there.”
I nod as Liam approaches. Torque claps him on the shoulder in silent understanding before heading back inside.
Liam sits on the grass beside me, folding one knee up and resting his mug on it. He doesn’t speak for a minute, just stares at the sky like he’s bracing himself.
“That hasn’t happened in a long time,” he says eventually. “I don’t know why it hit me so hard. Everything’s just… stacking. I wasn’t ready for it.”
I reach over and brush a hand through his hair. “Do you want to tell me what happened over there?”
He’s quiet, for so long, I think maybe he won’t answer. I don’t push.
He exhales, the sound rough in his chest. “We were on patrol. Third rotation. The Humvee behind us hit an IED. Our rig flipped, rolled once, maybe twice, I don’t even remember landing.”
He rubs his jaw, and I see his hands trembling just slightly. I reach over and thread my fingers through his.
“I was trying to pull Cruz out of the wreckage. The fire was already spreading. I had the radio in one hand, my other arm under him, but he was bleeding so much my grip kept slipping. There were bullets flying, snaps and whistles so loud I couldn’t think straight.
I stood up, no cover, nothing. Dumbest fucking move.
Got hit in the side. Here—” he presses my hand to his ribs, the same place I’d been shot.
“Dropped like a stone. Couldn’t breathe.
Blood, sand. Just choking on all of it. I remember knowing I was about to die.
I started praying. And I didn’t even believe in that shit anymore. I’m not sure I still do today.”
My eyes sting. I shift, laying my head in his lap. He sets his coffee aside and runs his fingers gently through my hair.
“Then the second unit showed up. Lit up everything that moved. Pulled what was left of us out, what was left of me. I still didn’t think I would make it home.”
“You did,” I whisper. “You came home. You found me.”
“I did,” he says voice low. “And I’d do it again.”
I tilt my face up to him. “I’m not going to let that war steal any more pieces of you, Liam. You hear me? You survived it. Now you get to live.”
He leans down and kisses me, slow and soft.
The house feels cooler when we step inside, the air laced with tension and the low hum of voices coming from the war room.
I glance up at Liam beside me, his jaw still tight, but his hands find mine as we make our way down the hallway.
Torque peels off toward the kitchen, and when we push through the glass door, the room is in chaos.
Elias and Margot are both hunched over their respective computers, finger flying across keys like they’re possessed.
Maps and documents overlaid with tracking software are pulled up on the screens.
There’s coffee, cold food, half-drunk water bottles littering the table, and not one person looks up when we enter.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, my voice sharp enough to cut through the chatter.
Margot looks up first, eyes wide with adrenaline. “Sebastian’s been making a mess.”
Elias doesn’t stop typing. “We found more records. More files. Fake invoices. Ghosted payments. It’s like he’s trying to rewrite history and frame all of us as part of the Ashford machine. There are documents that say Max ran drugs, that Reaper ran security for the estate—”
“I was in fucking Germany,” Liam mutters, jaw clenching. I reach out and squeeze his hand again.
Margot spins her laptop around to show me a map. “But the good news? He’s been sloppy. He’s leaving a paper trail.”
My brows lift. “So where is he?”
Elias leans back in his chair and exhales hard through his nose.
“Lisbon. He flew into Portugal last night, must have left after he attacked you. He’s using the alias, Julian Marek.
We have him coming and going from a low-rent apartment and a few public sightings, but he’s off-grid most of the day. Still no pattern.”
I nod sharply, already moving toward the table. “Then get two Serpents on the next flight. The ones we trust most. I want eyes on him by the end of the day. We cover whatever they need.”
Elias is already typing.
Liam’s phone buzzes against the table. He glances at the screen and answers, putting it on speaker. “Hunter. You’re on.”
His voice crackles over the line, graveled and steady. “Boss. We’ve got visitors.”
Liam stiffens beside me. “What kind of visitors?”
“One of them is the man who was here with Sebastian,” Hunter says. “The other one says she wants to talk. Says you’ll know her name. I don’t think she’s wrong.”
I step forward, my voice cold steel. “Put them in the basement. Secure them. No one else gets access.”
“Yes, Miss Wrenley,” Hunter says. “See you soon.”
The line goes dead. Liam pockets the phone. Elias is already closing laptops, Margot muttering something sharp under her breath as she pulls up security feeds.
I glance around the room at my people, my family. “We leave in twenty minutes.”