Chapter Ten
Trey
Beautiful Things – Benson Boone
Ifeel her shift against me under the covers, the heat of her body pressed close, her hair brushing my cheek, her breath warm against my neck.
My hands rest lightly at her waist.
Too lightly.
Like I’m afraid if I hold her properly, I’ll break something.
But I can’t stay still.
Not after everything.
The questions claw at me harder than anything I’ve ever felt.
“I need to know,” I murmur, voice rough from the fight, from everything still burning under my skin.
My thumb drifts over her hip.
“I need to know, Dove. My dad…did he. Did he hurt you?”
Her body tightens.
Just slightly.
But I feel it like a punch.
My arms instinctively pull her closer, holding her to me before she can retreat into herself.
“You can tell me,” I whisper, lips brushing her temple. “I’m right here. Nothing gets through me. Nothing touches you. Ever.”
Her breath catches.
I see it in her face before she speaks—whatever she’s holding isn’t just memory.
It’s weight.
It’s survival.
“I…” Her voice fractures halfway through the word.
Her fingers curl hard into the blanket.
I don’t move.
I don’t blink.
I just wait.
It feels like I’m fucking dying all over again.
“No,” she whispers at last.
My chest tightens.
“I was with you,” she says, voice breaking further now. “When you… when you died.”
The world goes quiet.
Not metaphorical.
Quiet.
Like everything in me stops obeying sound.
My arms lock around her without permission.
She continues, but it isn’t steady anymore. It’s breaking apart as she speaks.
“I didn’t understand it. It was so fast. I was on my knees—your blood was everywhere, Trey. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just kept staring at where you were.”
Her voice shakes harder.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches.
She swallows.
“And then your father came.”
Something cold spreads through my ribs.
“He helped me up,” she whispers. “He told me we had to leave. That everything would be okay.”
She pauses.
“When we got outside… there were sirens. Lights everywhere. Medics were shouting. They were rushing you into the ambulance.”
Her fingers tighten on me.
“I told the dogs to get in the SUV,” she says. “I followed. And he… he apologized.”
Her hand drifts to her throat without her noticing.
My body goes still.
“I didn’t feel anything after that,” she whispers. “Just a sharp pinch. And everything faded.”
She presses into my chest like she’s trying to disappear inside it.
“Before I went under,” she breathes, barely audible, “he told me his name. He said you couldn’t protect me.”
Rage detonates behind my ribs.
But I don’t let it reach her.
I kiss her hair instead.
“You’re safe now,” I murmur.
But her eyes don’t settle.
Not fully.
“What about Gideon?” I ask quietly, voice already turning darker. “Did he—”
“No,” she cuts in fast.
Too fast.
Like saying it out loud makes it real.
“But he wanted to.”
My grip tightens slightly at her waist.
Her fingers tremble against my chest.
“He told me what he planned,” she whispers. “After I said my vows… he said he would cut out my tongue so I could only be… receptive.”
Her breath stutters violently.
“He thinks I’m a vessel,” she says. “For him. For his sons. He believes it’s destiny.”
Her voice cracks completely now.
“He’s still out there, Trey.”
The room changes temperature.
I feel it happen.
“He’s going to come for me again.”
Something in me goes very still.
My hands frame her face before I even register moving.
Gentle.
But firm enough that she has to look at me.
“Listen to me,” I say, low and absolute. “He won’t touch you.”
Her breath trembles.
“He won’t come near you,” I continue. “He won’t breathe the same air as you without me knowing.”
Her eyes flicker.
Fear.
But underneath it—
Relief.
Because she believes me.
Even if she shouldn’t have to.
“I’ll deal with him,” I say quietly. “Not quickly. Not cleanly.”
My voice drops lower.
“I’m going to take everything from him until there’s nothing left. And then I’m going to make sure he understands exactly why.”
She exhales shakily.
And I pull her back into me.
“You are not a vessel,” I murmur into her hair. “You are my wife. You are mine. I will never let anyone take you from me again.”
Her arms tighten around me instantly.
Like she’s been holding that breath for days. Weeks.
A knock sounds at the door.
It snaps through her like a gunshot.
Her entire body locks in my arms.
I feel it instantly—panic, fear.
“Hey,” I murmur, tightening my hold. “It’s okay. It’s Chace.”
She doesn’t answer.
“I came here with him,” I say quietly. “His uncle too. We’ve got men everywhere. No one is getting near you. No one is separating us.”
Her forehead presses into my chest.
A slow nod.
Barely there.
I press a kiss to her hair, then carefully slide out of bed.
I open the door just enough.
Chace stands there, tension in his face, but he doesn’t speak at first.
He just looks at me.
Then nods.
I open the door wider.
He steps inside.
“Sera,” he says softly.
She stiffens.
Then breaks slightly at the sound of his voice.
He crosses the room immediately and sits on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should’ve protected you better.”
Her head lifts instantly.
“No,” she says firmly. “Don’t do that.”
Her voice steadies.
More than I expect.
“You saved Trey,” she says. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t.”
Chace goes still.
Something shifts between them.
Respect. Relief. Shared weight.
He exhales slowly and pulls her into a hug.
When he finally let’s go, his eyes flick to me.
“We’re ready when you are,” he says. “My uncle secured a hotel across town. Private floor. Full security.”
I nod once never taking my eyes off my wife.
He stands.
Moves closer.
Lower voice.
“Your father’s alive,” he says. “Doctor says he’ll recover.”
Sera’s head snaps up.
“What happened?”
I don’t look away from her when I answer.
“What happens,” I say quietly, “to anyone who tries to take what’s mine.”
Chace exhales under his breath like he understands exactly what I mean.
Sera doesn’t speak.
But she watches me differently now.
Like she’s starting to understand what I am and what I’ll do to protect what’s mine.