Chapter 77 Aspen
Aspen
The Tavern is quieter now.
Not safe.
Not really.
But calmer.
I made sure Dylan and Grandpa were sleeping.
Everyone gave us space.
Not on purpose.
Just instinct.
And now it’s just us.
Havoc sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head slightly bowed like he’s trying to gather himself back together.
Like that’s even possible after what just happened.
I lean against the wall across from him.
Watching.
Waiting.
Neither of us speaks right away.
Because what do you even say after that?
“That was a bad idea,” he finally says.
I let out a small breath.
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
There it is.
The real question.
I push off the wall slowly.
Walk toward him.
“No,” I say.
His head lifts.
Our eyes meet.
“Do you?” I ask.
He exhales.
Runs a hand through his hair.
“No,” he admits.
And something in my chest settles.
Because I needed to hear that.
More than I wanted to.
“This doesn’t make things easier,” he says.
“I know.”
“It makes them harder.”
“I know that too.”
I step closer.
Stopping just in front of him.
“But I’m not walking away from it,” I add quietly.
His gaze sharpens.
“You should,” he says.
“Are you?”
That stops him.
Because he can’t say yes.
Because we both know the truth now.
He stands slowly.
Careful of his ribs.
But still too close when he straightens.
“This isn’t just about us,” he says.
“I know,” I reply.
“There’s danger.”
“I know.”
“Your son—”
“I know.”
My voice softens, but it doesn’t break.
“I’ve spent so much of my life being careful… being afraid of what could go wrong.”
I swallow. “And I still lost everything anyway.”
His expression shifts.
Not pity.
Something deeper.
Understanding.
I reach out before I can stop myself.
Rest my hand lightly against his chest.
His heartbeat is steady beneath my palm.
“And I still choose this,” I whisper.
Silence.
His hand comes up.
Covers mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Like he’s anchoring me instead of the other way around.
“You don’t make this easy,” he mutters.
I almost smile.
“Good.”
Something in his eyes breaks open at that.
Not control.
Not restraint.
Something real.
He pulls me in again.
But this time… it’s different.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Certain.
His hands come up slower, like he’s giving me time to stop him.
Like he needs to know I won’t.
I don’t.
I step closer instead.
He leans down, and his forehead rests against mine.
“We take this one step at a time,” he says.
“Okay.”
“No promises we can’t keep.”
“Okay.”
“But I don’t walk away from you,” he adds.
My breath catches.
“Okay,” I whisper.
And then he kisses me.
Soft.
So soft it almost hurts.
Not the kind of kiss that steals breath—
the kind that gives it back.
I feel it everywhere.
In my chest.
In my hands.
In the way I lean into him without thinking.
His fingers brush along my jaw, slower this time.
Reverent.
Like he’s memorizing me.
Like this matters.
Like I matter.
And something inside me…feels like I might just cry.
Because I feel like he sees me, without Tank standing in our way.
He touches me like I’m something to hold onto instead of something to survive.
My hands slide up his chest, careful of his ribs, feeling the strength beneath the pain.
Feeling him.
Real.
Here.
Mine.
He pulls back just enough to look at me.
Search my face.
“You sure?” he asks quietly.
Not about the moment.
About everything.
The risk.
The fear.
Him.
I nod.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
That’s when his control gives.
Not in a rush—
but in surrender.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, but still slow.
Still careful.
Like we have all the time in the world…
even though we don’t.
We move together toward the bed without breaking apart.
Every touch is deliberate.
Every breath shared.
No urgency.
Just… closeness.
His hand finds mine, fingers threading through like he needs that connection just as much as I do.
And when he lowers me back—
he doesn’t hover.
He stays close.
Forehead to mine.
Breath against my lips.
“Aspen…” he murmurs.
Just my name.
But it sounds like everything.
I touch his face.
Trace the line of his jaw.
The edge of the man who fights everything and still chose me.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
And I am.
Completely.
When we finally come together again… it’s not rushed.
Not wild.
It’s slow.
Careful.
Like we’re both afraid to break something fragile.
Like we both know this moment will change everything.
I feel it in the way he holds me—
not just with strength,
but with gentleness.
Like I’m something worth protecting.
My fingers tighten on his shoulders as emotion rises too fast, too full.
Because this isn’t just physical.
This is trust.
This is choosing someone when you know it could destroy you.
And as that truth settles in—
a tear slips free.
Warm.
Silent.
He feels it immediately.
Stills.
Pulls back just enough to see my face.
“Hey…” his voice softens. “Did I—”
“No,” I whisper quickly, shaking my head.
My hand cups his cheek, grounding him.
Grounding me.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
I smile through the emotion.
“It’s… you.”
His brow furrows.
I let out a shaky breath.
“I didn’t think I’d ever feel something like this again,” I admit.
“Safe… and terrified… all at the same time.”
His eyes soften.
And that’s when I see it.
Not the fighter.
Not the man everyone fears.
Just him.
And he leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of my eye—
catching the tear before it can fall.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs.
Not a promise.
Not forever.
But right now.
And right now is enough.
We move together again, slower this time.
More certain.
No walls.
No holding back.
Just us.
And when we finally come to stillness, he doesn’t pull away.
He stays.
Wrapped around me.
Holding me like letting go isn’t an option.
My head rests against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Outside, the world is still dangerous.
Still uncertain.
But here…
In his arms…
For the first time in a long time—
I feel something close to peace.
And I hold onto it.
Because I know…
This is only the beginning.