Chapter 19
Nineteen
Thorn
“River!” we hear as we walk down the flight of steps and head for the car.
She’s packed a large suitcase and I’m carrying several heavy bags full of kitchen stuff.
Kitchen stuff I’ll hopefully enjoy the spoils of soon.
So, I’m not in the mood for us to be stopped.
My stomach aside, there’s the small concern of the Lyons and us standing unprotected in the open, and now, the strange woman bustling up the sidewalk.
Maybe she doesn’t look like a threat, but I’ve seen the havoc Angela Rousseau has wrecked on so many lives.
Women can be dangerous too.
Especially women who are pushed to the edge.
I step in front of River, intercepting the woman as she gets close. “Can I help you?” I ask, flicking my eyes over her shoulder.
The driver of the black SUV nods at me.
Good. Pascal’s crew is watching.
“Uh, hi, Stephanie,” River says, gently brushing her fingers along the outside of my arm and stepping to my side. “How’s it going?”
The woman—Stephanie—glances at me then back at River. “Are you moving out?”
I don’t like how she asks that.
Too casually…but her eyes are shrewd. As though she’s intent on River’s answer.
I frown.
River answers before I can move her along. “No,” she says, “just going on a short vacation.”
“Short?” Stephanie asks, her tone disbelieving, her gaze tracing over the suitcase and bags.
“Yup,” I mutter, shifting my grip and nudging River forward. “Let’s get the car loaded, little hen.”
“I—”
“We’re running late,” River says brightly. “I’ll see you around!”
We start walking, heading for my car. I pop the trunk, put the bags in, then snag the suitcase from River and shove that in too.
She moves to the passenger’s side door, climbs in.
“Do you know her?” I ask, standing in the opening.
“Barely,” she says as she buckles in. “We’ve talked once.”
I slam the door and round the hood, sitting in my own seat, starting up the engine, and backing out. River’s gaze shifts as I do, pointing out the window.
Stephanie is standing there, watching us drive away.
“That was really freaking weird,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Do you think she’s part of the—” River nibbles at her bottom lip.
I focus back on the road. “Could be.”
But something about that doesn’t feel quite right.
It’s too clumsy. The Lyons wouldn’t be that stupid, right?
Or maybe it’s some sort of elaborate bait and switch, and—
River’s new phone rings.
“Briar?” she says. “No, I’m good. We were at my apartment picking up some things. You’re where?”
Her mouth drops open.
“What?” I ask.
“You can’t just storm into Thorn’s place!
” She scowls. “You already did? Yeah, well, I’m getting that.
But it’s wrong and—oh my God, tell me that isn’t Chrissy and Rory in the background.
Marie too?” A groan as she presses her fingertips to her forehead.
“I don’t care if she wants to see what her former apartment looks like now.
It’s invasive and you should have asked Thorn first, and—”
I slow at a signal, debating, and—
Fuck it.
I snag the phone from her grip.
“Thorn!” she protests.
“Briar,” I say, putting it up to my ear.
A beat and then Briar says, rather guiltily, “Uh, hey, Thorn. I hope you don’t mind but Pascal let us up.”
I bet he did.
The man can kill you in a heartbeat but a good woman flutters her eyes at him…and now my apartment is infested with women.
And…hell, I can’t even be pissed.
Because I’m just as bad.
It’s why I say what I say next, “I’ll drop River off, order you all in some food, then make myself scarce so you can cackle and fuss and drink wine and talk about those smutty books you guys like.”
Smutty books it turns out I like. But that’s beside the point.
“You what?” River exclaims.
“Girl’s night,” I tell Briar and her both, “starts now.”
Then I pass back the phone and drive us to my place.
“Have fun at work Thorny Thorn!” Rory calls, bouncing baby Mia on her lap.
Violet’s beside her on the couch, watching the little girl’s pigtails bounce and taking the occasional gentle swipe.
Marie’s busy inspecting the apartments new layout—I bought hers and Jace’s places and combined them into one last year.
Chrissy is talking on the phone, likely with her husband, Rome, considering how soft her face is.
And Briar’s watching me.
Or rather, watching River and me.
River, who’s shifting from foot-to-foot beside me. “You don’t have to let us run you out of your house,” she says uncomfortably.
I ignore those watchful eyes and touch River’s cheek. “Have fun,” I say. “I’ll be back later.”
“Thorn,” she says as I reach for the button to call the elevator.
“Little hen”—I spin back, cup her cheek—“have fun.”
She leans into my touch and I’d let myself get kicked out of my home a hundred times over if only she continues to look at me like that, continues to lean into my touch, continues to be here.
“I…” She closes her eyes for a beat. “Well, thanks,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome.” The elevator chimes and I turn for it, the sound of laughter following me onto the car.
And as the doors close, I hear the best thing of all—River’s laughter joining in.
Fuck, I love that.
Love her.
Which means I go from being relaxed and happy and in fucking love to scared to fucking death in a fraction of a second.
Fuck. Fuck.
Head spinning, heart twisting, bile burning the back of my throat, I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and call Pascal.
“I need you to beef up security at my place,” I tell him the moment he answers.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing,” I say instantly. “Except that River was fucking kidnapped and that woman approached her at her apartment and all the women are at my place, and River—” I suck in a breath. “River,” I rasp, trying again. “I—”
He curses. “You love her.”
“I—” The doors open, and I stalk through the lobby, wanting to deny it, almost desperate to. But I can’t force myself to say the words. “What I am doesn’t matter. I need you to—”
Help me protect her. Help me keep her safe.
Because River is everything the Lyons would love to destroy.
“You know the security we have in place is more than sufficient,” he says as I climb into my car.
I want to tell him fuck that, tell him to double everything, to triple it.
But he’s right.
Even now Pascal’s men are watching. I can feel their stares burning into me.
Gritting my teeth together, I hit the button to start up the engine, start backing out of my spot.
“But you need to think about something else,” Pascal says.
“What?” I ask quickly. What angle have I missed? What risk am I not protecting her from?
“Protecting her isn’t just physical.”
I frown.
“Her heart, Thorn,” he murmurs when I don’t ask. “You need to take care with her heart.”
God, I’ve been nothing but careful.
Except, I don’t get to tell him that. Because the fuck is still talking, still speaking, saying words that tear through me.
“You can’t protect her by shutting her out.”
I grit my teeth together. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
He sighs heavily. “She’s not stupid, son.”
No, she’s not. Because she already knows I’m keeping things from her, already knows they’re heavy and painful.
But if she knows everything…
No.
She can’t know everything, can’t know what I’ve done to survive, the horrible things, the manipulative things, the things that will make her look at me like I’m a monster far worse than her asshole of an ex.
“I know she’s not stupid,” I hedge.
“Well, she’s also stronger than you think.”
“I know that too.”
Pascal is quiet for a long moment. Then he sighs, says, “Then think about what it will mean to her if you trust her with every part of you.”
I suck in a breath, but he’s not done destroying me.
“And what it will mean if you don’t.”