24. Chapter 24 #2
A week earlier, those two words would have been followed by a reason I should stop.
Today, he stayed where he was.
“You’re not going to tell me to quit?”
“Want to.”
I almost smiled. “But?”
His gaze moved toward the mat.
“But I remember our last argument.”
The admission softened something inside me.
Colt rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Every instinct I have says I should teach you myself somewhere controlled. No unfamiliar people. No unnecessary exposure.”
“That sounds very familiar.”
“Yeah.” His mouth twisted. “I hate that.”
I stepped closer.
He looked at me.
“I’m proud of you,” I said.
His eyebrows pulled together. “For standing against a wall?”
“For hating this and staying anyway.”
Something shifted in his expression.
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
The words came naturally.
This time, they did not mean I was excusing him.
They meant I saw the effort.
Colt’s gaze dropped to my wrist.
A red mark had formed where Mara grabbed me.
His entire body changed.
I watched it happen.
Shoulders tightening.
Jaw locking.
His hand flexing once at his side.
Then he looked at me.
“Do you want help?”
The question nearly broke my heart.
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
Colt crossed the remaining distance.
His fingers closed gently around my wrist, turning it so he could examine the mark.
His touch was careful.
Too careful.
“She didn’t hurt me.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to bruise.”
“I know.”
“You’re allowed to hate that.”
His thumb moved lightly beneath the red mark. “Good, because I really fucking do.”
I smiled.
Colt looked up.
The air changed.
It had been doing that more often lately.
A glance lasting too long.
A hand lingering.
The awareness that every argument we survived seemed to strip another layer of distance away.
“You’re sweaty,” he said.
I stared at him.
“That’s your contribution to the moment?”
“Just establishing facts.”
“I’ve been training for an hour.”
“Not complaining.”
His gaze moved over me.
Slowly.
Heat curled low in my stomach.
“Colt.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re in a clubhouse gym.”
“Also a fact.”
I pulled my wrist from his hand.
His smile widened.
“Behave.”
“Wasn’t doing anything.”
“Your face was.”
He followed me toward the bench.
I reached for my bag.
Colt got there first.
“I can carry my own bag.”
“I know.”
He slung it over his shoulder.
I stared at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re impossible.”
“Still letting you go to class.”
I narrowed my eyes.
He laughed.
I should have been irritated.
Instead, I followed him outside.
The sun was beginning to set, throwing long shadows across the lot. Two club members stood near the gate. Another checked a vehicle by the garage.
Security.
Always security.
The sight still tightened something inside me.
But it no longer felt like the whole world.
Colt stopped beside my car.
“Ghost says you spotted another tail yesterday.”
“I did.”
His face tightened. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I filed the report.”
“That’s not what I said.”
I felt the first spark of defensiveness.
Then I stopped.
He had not ordered.
Had not accused.
He had told me what bothered him.
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry.”
“I worry anyway.”
“I know.”
“And finding out later is worse.”
I leaned against the car.
“That’s fair.”
Colt blinked.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You expected a fight.”
“Little bit.”
I crossed my arms. “I can be reasonable.”
“Debatable.”
“Would you like me to reconsider?”
“Nope.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then his expression sobered.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The real question.
I looked toward the gate.
“Because I handled it.”
“I know.”
“I wanted that to be mine for a minute.”
Colt went quiet.
“I spotted the pattern,” I continued. “I changed direction. Confirmed it. Sent the alert. Moved toward a populated location. The detail intercepted before they got close.”
His eyes stayed on me.
“I did everything right.”
“Yeah.”
“And for the first time since this started, I didn’t feel helpless.”
Understanding moved across his face.
“I needed to feel that before I watched you become terrified for me.”
The honesty hurt.
I said it anyway.
Colt looked down.
For a moment, I wondered if I had damaged something.
Then he nodded.
“I get that.”
“You do?”
“Don’t like it.”
“I assumed.”
“But I get it.”
He stepped closer.
Not touching.
Waiting.
I closed the distance myself.
My arms wrapped around his waist, and his came around me immediately.
I pressed my face against his chest.
“I’m still scared,” I admitted.
His hand moved over my back. “Me too.”
“Sometimes I walk into the parking garage and I’m right back there.”
“With Marcus?”
I nodded.
Colt’s arms tightened.
“Then I remember I know what to look for now. I know where the exits are. I know what to do if a car follows me.” My throat tightened. “I know I can fight.”
He rested his cheek against my hair.
“You always could.”
“No.” I pulled back enough to see him. “I survived. That’s different.”
Colt’s expression shifted.
“I’m learning to fight now.”
For several seconds, he only looked at me.
Then his hand rose to my cheek.
“You know what scares the shit out of me?”
“Long list.”
His mouth twitched.
“That you’re going to get so good at protecting yourself you realize you don’t need me.”
The admission stunned me.
“Colt.”
“I know it’s fucked up.”
“No.”
“It is.”
I placed my hand over his.
“I don’t want to need you because I’m helpless.”
His gaze dropped.
“I want to choose you because I’m not.”
His eyes came back to mine.
The words settled between us.
Something raw moved across his face.
“That’s worse,” he muttered.
I blinked. “Worse?”
“Way fucking scarier.”
A laugh escaped me.
Colt smiled.
Then I kissed him.
Slowly.
Not because I needed reassurance.
Not because he needed to be forgiven.
Because I wanted to.
His hand slid into my hair, and the kiss deepened until the sounds of the clubhouse faded around us.
When we separated, his forehead rested against mine.
“I’m still going Thursday,” I whispered.
A groan rumbled through his chest.
I smiled.
“Had to ruin it.”
“Partnership.”
“Starting to hate that word.”
“No, you’re not.”
His thumb moved across my cheek.
“No,” he admitted. “I’m not.”
***
That evening, we sat on my living room floor with security maps spread across the coffee table.
Not because Colt had ordered me to review them.
Because I had asked.
Ghost had marked known surveillance locations. Prime added emergency routes. I had added my own notes in blue ink.
Colt studied one of them.
“You changed the secondary route.”
“The original puts me through a construction bottleneck.”
He looked closer.
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
His mouth curved.
I nudged his knee with mine.
Four weeks ago, this would have been Colt’s plan.
I would have been the person expected to follow it.
Now my handwriting covered half the page.
The difference mattered more than I could explain.
Colt reached over and took my hand.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at him. “For what?”
“For treating you like you were breakable.”
The words settled heavily.
I turned my hand beneath his until our fingers linked.
“You were scared.”
“Not an excuse.”
“No.” I held his gaze. “But it is a reason.”
His thumb moved over my knuckles.
“I spent my whole life controlling what I could because everything else got taken away,” he said. “My body in that black site. My head when I came home. People I thought would stay.” His jaw tightened. “Then you happened, and suddenly I had something I couldn’t stand to lose.”
My chest ached.
“I thought if I planned enough, watched enough, controlled enough, I could guarantee nothing happened to you.”
“You can’t.”
“I know.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
Colt almost smiled.
“I’m learning.”
“That I believe.”
He looked at the maps covering the table.
“You’re good at this.”
The simple statement warmed something inside me.
“I have a good teacher.”
“Ghost is an asshole.”
“He says the same thing about you.”
“Yeah, but when I say it, it’s accurate.”
I laughed.
Colt watched me.
The humor faded slowly from his face.
Not into fear.
Something warmer.
He lifted our joined hands and pressed his mouth against my knuckles.
My breath caught.
The gesture was so unexpectedly tender that I forgot every clever thing I might have said.
“I don’t want to protect you from your own life,” he said.
I swallowed.
“I want to be beside you in it.”
My eyes burned.
“That,” I whispered, “I can work with.”
Colt leaned closer.
Stopped.
Waited.
Even now.
Especially now.
I closed the distance.
The kiss began softly.
No desperation.
No anger.
His hand settled against my waist as mine slid around the back of his neck. When he pulled me closer, I went willingly, shifting until my knees bracketed his hips on the living room floor.
Colt broke the kiss.
His eyes searched mine.
“Caroline.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been training.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re probably sore.”
I stared at him.
His mouth twitched.
“Was trying to be considerate.”
“Try less.”
The laugh that left him was low and warm.
His hands settled on my hips.
This was not surrender.
Not gratitude for protection.
Not an apology accepted because I was afraid to lose him.
It was choice.
Mine.
His.
Two people learning that safety did not require one of us to become smaller.
I kissed him again.
I kissed him again, our lips sliding together with a slow, deliberate pressure that made my breath hitch.
His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me flush against him until I could feel the hard length of his cock pressing through his jeans, right against the soft mound of my pussy.
I shifted, letting my knees open wider, and felt the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.
I broke the kiss just enough to look into his eyes, seeing the same mixture of desire and reverence that had been building between us for weeks.
My fingers traced the line of his jaw, then slipped down to the buttons of his shirt.
I worked them open one by one, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest, the faint trail of hair leading down to his navel.
When the last button came undone, I pushed the shirt aside, exposing his hard nipples and the defined ridges of his abdomen.