CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE RONAN
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
RONAN
NOW
Half an hour passes, and I still haven’t heard from Ryker.
I have to get off the highway because by now there’s no way my father’s men aren’t looking for this car, even if Damon is doing everything he can to distract them.
My brother’s defiance confuses the hell out of me, but I don’t have time to think too hard about it when the woman I’ve loved for as long as I can remember lies unconscious and covered in blood beside me.
I spot a rest stop and pull in without allowing myself to think too hard about it.
The parking lot is completely empty, and aside from a few overhead lights, the darkness will allow us to hide out here long enough to get her cleaned up.
I park the car in a dark corner of the parking lot and tuck my gun into my pants before climbing out.
Rounding the car, I keep my head on a swivel, but as soon as I reach the passenger side, all my attention is on Chloe.
My sparrow.
I unbuckle her seat belt and lift her against my chest, once again reveling in the feel of her in my arms.
All those years without her, I almost forgot how perfectly she fits. Through every age, she was always the perfect size to fit against me, and nothing has changed in the decade we spent apart.
I carry her toward the restroom block and hold my breath expecting to be faced with filth, but I’m quietly relieved to find the women’s toilets clean and bright.
Placing Chloe down on the bench beside the sinks, I gather a bunch of paper towels and run them under water before turning my attention back to my girl.
She’s slumped against the mirror, her head dropped forward and her body limp.
It’s been too long since she lost consciousness, and every minute that ticks by brings a fresh wave of anxiety with it.
Because what if she doesn’t wake up?
What if she has a brain injury and it’s taken me too long to get her to a doctor?
Shaking off the thoughts, I carefully wipe the stained blood from her face and chest. She’s still dressed in my shirt, and I curse myself for not finding more clothes for her. There might be some in my go bag I keep stashed in the car, but she deserves more.
She deserves everything.
Far more than I can ever offer her.
I swallow down my own self-pity and use a fresh wad of paper towel to wipe away the blood on her thighs, uncovering the hand-shaped bruises Ralph left behind, and I want to drag him back from hell just so I can kill him all over again.
This time slower, make him feel every ounce of pain he inflicted on what doesn’t belong to him.
She doesn’t belong to me anymore, I remind myself. But even as I think it, I shake off the thought.
Chloe Weaver will always be mine. No amount of time or distance will ever change that.
I toss the bloody towels into the toilet and flush them until they’re gone. It’s shitty for the pipes, but they’re the least of my worries right now.
A soft groan pulls my attention back to Chloe, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks.
I reach for the light switch and flick most of the overheads off, only leaving the ones above the showers at the far end so we’re not in complete darkness.
“Sparrow?” I breathe, cupping her cheek in my hand so she knows I’m here.
That I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again.
I’ve known too much of my life without her, I refuse to live another day without her by my side. To hell with the consequences.
“Ronan?” she mumbles, leaning into my palm.
“Yeah, baby. It’s me. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
“Never safe,” she whispers. “Always running. Never safe.”
Her words break me. Because she’s lived so many years on the run from my family.
From me.
“Not anymore, Chloe. I’ll take care of everything. I promise.”
I know I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep, but I mean every word.
Because if I have to kill every single person in my bloodline to keep her safe, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
No legacy is worth losing the heart that beats outside my body.