Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Briar
E aston’s house is a mansion with a massive gate and long driveway. It’s more of a haunted house than a friendly modern mansion. It does have a porch, but that doesn’t seem particularly welcoming either. Unlike the few houses we passed coming down the road to his, Easton’s home lacks any Christmas decorations.
That tracks with Easton as a person.
Being in a vehicle with all three of their scents makes my nose twitch. It’s quite the potent combination, and I don’t even mind Keir’s hand on my thigh. It hasn’t moved during the entire drive, but it manages to ground me in a way that’s hard to explain.
I should probably be more heartbroken about Jameson, but I saw this coming.
Well, not the cheating part.
I thought he was a different kind of guy than my father and deceased fiancé, but I know all about how wives are supposed to pretend they don’t see anything.
I just have no interest in that lifestyle.
I didn’t survive an all-out massacre to end up married to someone like my fucking dad.
Maybe I didn’t run far enough? I knew I needed to get away from NYC and that I couldn’t go back to Boston.
Vermont seemed picturesque, but I could try the south or make a huge change and go for the West Coast.
Calder parks in the garage and the trapped feeling starts to set in.
“Come on,” Keir says, opening his door. “I’ll help you get set up in the guest room.”
This is a nightmare.
They’re going to ask all sorts of questions that I don’t have answers for.
Keir shows me to a beautiful bedroom that feels very much like the gilded cage I grew up in. Sure, it’s luxurious, but the implication is that I can’t leave—even if I want to—and that makes my skin itch.
The massive alpha drops my bags next to an armoire that I won’t be using, since I won’t be staying long enough to unpack.
“Here’s the bathroom; it’s attached.” Keir aims a thumb toward one of the doors. “It’s stocked. Towels, washcloths, and hand towels are in the double set of cabinets to the right of the vanity. Extra toothbrushes, bodywash, shampoo, and conditioner—it’s all under the sink. There should be bottles in the shower too.” He turns around, leaning back against the wall. There’s a weird look on his face as he studies me, and I take a step back.
Dammit.
He’s going to ask me about Bianca.
I didn’t want anyone to know about that.
Okay, initially, I did.
My whole goal was to get them to protect me from Titus. But then we got to know each other, and I already look pathetic enough with the whole Jameson thing.
“You can’t just leave,” Keir says, shaking his head. “Running never solves anything. Once you start, you can’t stop. You’ll always feel the need to look over your shoulder. It’s exhausting.”
My gaze falls to the floor as my chest gets tight. I don’t even know what to say. I’m upset about Jameson, but I also liked knowing the people at work saw me as this completely different person. Having them find out who I really am and what I’ve been through…sucks.
I hate that it makes me feel so vulnerable, but it does.
I’ve gotten braver since working at Shadow Security, and this whole thing makes me look terrible. The first guy I chose for myself ended up being a royal ass. The guy my family set me up with ended up murdered on our wedding day.
I’m a mess.
Not to mention, being associated with me gets people killed.
It’s like a curse.
“I don’t want to run,” I admit with a weird hitch to my voice. “I’m just really freaking tired, Keir.”
The massive alpha crosses the room in two long strides. He wraps his hand around my lower back, pulling me into his chest. “You’ve got support. All you need to do is trust me.”
Holy shit.
I’m the most cliché omega in existence because my knees wobble with just those few words.
The way his hazelnut scent floods my nose and his huge hand smooths up and down my spine doesn’t make me want to step back. If anything, it causes my whole body to yearn to melt even farther into him and never let go.
“Listen to me, Briar. You don’t have to run anymore. Take a few hours and relax, maybe change out of your work clothes and come down to eat dinner with us.” Keir nuzzles his cheek to the top of my head. “All you have to do is point us at the problem, and we’ll handle it.”
Can he read my mind?
It’s like he knows exactly what I need to hear to feel safe, and my lower lip wobbles. I’m not sure I deserve his kindness. I purposely snaked my way into their lives to try to manipulate them into doing that very thing.
I’m going to have to come clean about that at some point, but when I do, he might stop touching me.
That risk is too great.
I bite my cheek to keep the truth from spewing out and wrap my arms around his lower back.
My eyes ache, and I sniffle against Keir’s soft shirt. He pulls me closer, and his other forearm circles the back of my head. Combined with his hand on my back, it makes me feel surrounded and protected in a way that’s hard to explain.
Omegas like feeling safely confined.
Every alpha knows that.
An embarrassing sob rattles out of my lips as my face wallows around his chest.
Today was such a shitty day.
And I’ve had a lot of them in my life.
Visions of the way Jameson walked out of Steffanie’s apartment replay over and over in my mind, which spills into the way he spoke to me and how he grabbed me.
The sad part is…it was nothing unusual compared to my life before the massacre. The bullshit arrangement my father forced me into with Avan Barrett would have been a thousand times worse.
The more I think about it, the more Jameson reminds me of Avan.
Avan laid it on thick in the beginning, likely to ensure I stayed compliant and willing to go through with the wedding—like I had a choice. But in the few days leading up to the ceremony, the cracks started to show.
One of his men mentioned someone named Brooklyn. I knew better than to ask, but I did, and my husband-to-be backhanded me for it. I had a busted lip on our wedding day, and both my parents knew who was responsible for it.
They did nothing to stop the union.
Not that a conversation would have put an end to his bad behavior, but at least it would have made it feel like they gave a shit about my well-being.
Then again, I never had any illusions of that.
“Okay,” Keir says softly. “You need to rest.”
I scoff.
It can’t be later than four or five p.m.
I still let Keir guide me to the bed. He tugs back the blanket before bending to help me out of my shoes and kicking them away. Once that’s done, he helps me out of my coat.
“In you go,” he says, holding up the blanket.
My chest gets tight. He’s going to tell me to get some sleep, and he’s going to leave.
But I don’t want to rest.
I want to snuggle with Keir.
Even his presence convinces my system that I’m safe. And I should know better than to trust any man, but something inside me says that logic doesn’t apply to this man.
“Lie down, Briar.” That wasn’t a bark, but it rolls through my system like one. I scramble onto the bed, rolling until my head hits the pillow. Keir’s head tilts. “Are you going to make room for me, or do you want some privacy?”
I scoot over faster than I ever have. He drops the blanket, kicks off his shoes, and climbs onto the edge of the mattress. He’s so tall that his feet hang to nearly the end of the bed, even though he’s leaning against the headboard. He stretches an arm around the top of my head and teases his fingers through my hair.
“You are safe here. Don’t let fear tell you otherwise,” he murmurs in his thick accent. “I’ve got you. You have my word, nothing will hurt you on my watch.”
My heart thumps against my rib cage.
Why, exactly, did I waste years of my life dating guys my age? Sexy older Scottish men are obviously the way to go.
There’s basically no chance I’ll fall asleep with everything I’ve got running through my mind.
It takes a few minutes, but I find myself gravitating toward Keir’s smoky hazelnut scent, and when his chest begins to vibrate with a steady purr, I don’t even try to keep my distance. I snuggle right over until my face rests on his chest.
Now that I’m closer, it makes it harder for him to work his fingers through my hair, but his hand lands on my hip.
I shudder out a breath at the feeling of safety that comes from being wrapped up in his warmth.
Goddamn.
Keir is dangerous as fuck, mostly because he’s so easy to trust. That means the fall will hurt a thousand times worse when he drops me.