Chapter 15 #2
She sobbed against my chest. Great, shaking sobs that tore through her whole body, each one feeling like it was ripping something vital out of her.
I held her through it, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other pressed against her spine.
Keeping her together. Letting her fall apart because she needed to and I was strong enough to hold the pieces.
"I've got you," I murmured into her hair. "I've got you, Tammy. You're safe."
The words felt inadequate. Too small for what I was feeling. This overwhelming need to destroy whatever had hurt her, to wrap myself around her like armor and never let anything touch her again.
It took a long time for the crying to stop. When it finally did, she stayed pressed against me, her face buried in my shirt, her breathing ragged and uneven. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. Too fast, fluttering like a trapped bird.
"What happened?" I asked quietly.
She pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were devastated, haunted in a way that made rage start to build in my gut.
"Craig." Her voice was hoarse, wrecked from crying. "The pharmacist. I confronted him today about the medications."
Ice flooded my veins, followed immediately by white-hot fury. "You what?"
"I had to know." She was shaking now, trembling like a leaf in a storm. "After what happened with Seth, with you and the snake bite, after John's wound, I had to know if something was wrong with the drugs."
"And?" The word came out like gravel.
"He basically admitted it." The words tumbled out broken, jagged. "He tampered with them, Ripplan. Deliberately. He knew people would die. He wanted Orcs to die."
The rage that swept through me was so intense I had to close my eyes and breathe through it. My hands tightened on her shoulders. Not enough to hurt, but enough that she'd feel my fury, my absolute need to tear Craig Broussard apart with my bare hands.
When I opened my eyes again, Tammy was watching me with something like fear flickering across her face.
Not fear of me. Fear for me.
"Seth," I said. My voice didn't sound like my own. It was too low, too rough, barely human. "Seth would have survived if the medicine had been good."
"Yes." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "Craig as much as murdered Seth. And he tried to murder you. And if you hadn't saved me from that snake, if I'd been bitten instead, I would have died. The anti-venom wouldn't have worked. Nothing would have worked."
I pulled her back against me, needing to feel her alive and whole in my arms. Needing to know she was here, safe, breathing. "Tell me everything. Every word he said."
She did. The whole conversation spilled out of her in fits and starts.
Craig's smug comments about the snake bite, his thinly veiled threats about her reputation, the way he'd all but confessed to tampering with the medications.
By the time she finished, I was shaking with the effort of controlling my rage.
"I called Jordan," Tammy continued, her voice steadier now. "And Kelsey. They're going to help. But I need to send them samples of all the medications Craig gave me. They'll test them, prove they were tampered with."
"Good." I forced my voice to stay calm, controlled. "We'll send them first thing tomorrow morning."
"I can't mail them from Leadville. Craig will know. I need to drive them to Denver—"
"No." The word came out harder than I intended, sharp enough to make her flinch. I gentled my tone. "You're not going anywhere near that town. Not alone. Not ever again."
"Ripplan—"
"I'll have Adam take them." Adam was our most trusted ranch hand. Former military, completely loyal, smart enough to handle this without drawing attention. "He can drive to Denver tonight, stay over and ship them in the morning. But you're staying here. On the ranch. Where I can protect you."
"Do you really think Craig would try to hurt me?" Her voice was so small, so uncertain.
"The Broussards think they're untouchable in Leadville.
" I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my eyes.
"They've owned that town for generations.
They think they can do whatever they want without consequences.
They think their money and their name put them above the law.
" I stroked my thumbs across her cheekbones, wiping away tears.
"Craig has already committed murder. So yes, I think he'd try to hurt you if he thought you were a threat. "
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"I know." I pressed my forehead against hers, breathing her in. "But I promise you, I will never let anything hurt you. Never. I'll protect you with everything I have. Do you understand?"
"I understand." Her hands came up to grip my wrists, holding on like I was the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly become unstable. "I trust you, Ripplan."
Trust.
She trusted me. This brave, fierce woman who'd been hurt before, who'd run from a man who tried to control her, who'd built walls around herself to stay safe. She trusted me to keep her safe. She was giving me something precious and fragile, and I felt the weight of it settle into my bones.
And I would. Gods help me, I would die before I let anyone hurt her.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For coming. For being here. For everything."
I kissed her. Gently at first, just a brush of lips. A promise, a reassurance. But then she made a small sound, need and relief and something deeper, something that sounded like home, and the kiss changed.
Deepened.
Became something more.
I lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist without hesitation. Her hands tangled in my hair as I carried her toward the stairs leading to her apartment. We didn't make it.
Halfway up, I pressed her against the wall, my mouth on her neck, her jaw, her lips. She gasped my name, and it sounded like a prayer, like a plea, like the only word that mattered.
"I need you," she whispered against my mouth. "Please, Ripplan. I need—"
"I know." I did know. I could smell it on her. The fear transforming into need, the desperate desire to feel alive, to feel safe, to feel something other than terror. "I've got you."
We made it to her bedroom. I laid her on the bed and followed her down, covering her body with mine.
She pulled at my shirt, and I helped her, yanking it over my head.
Her hands were on my chest immediately, my shoulders, my back.
Touching everywhere she could reach, like she needed to confirm I was real, solid, here.
"You're shaking," I said, catching one of her hands and pressing it flat against my chest, right over my heart.
"I can't stop." Her voice broke. "I keep thinking about what could have happened. What Craig did. What he tried to do."
"He can't hurt you now." I kissed her palm, then her wrist, feeling her pulse flutter against my lips. "I won't let him. I won't let anyone."
She pulled me down to her mouth, kissing me with a desperation that made my chest ache.
I could taste the salt of her tears, feel the trembling in her body as she wrapped herself around me.
This wasn't just desire. This was need, raw and primal, the kind that came from staring into darkness and needing someone to pull you back into the light.
I broke the kiss long enough to reach for the hem of her shirt. "Can I?"
"Yes." She lifted her arms, helping me pull it over her head. "Please, Ripplan. I need you."
I tossed the shirt aside and looked at her.
Really looked at her. The lamplight caught the curve of her breasts in the simple cotton bra, the rise and fall of her breathing, the way her skin flushed pink across her chest and throat.
Beautiful. She was so damn beautiful it made something in my chest twist painfully.
I traced my fingers along her collarbone, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. "I'm going to take my time with you."
"I don't want slow right now." Her hands found my belt, fumbling with the buckle. "I need to feel you. I need to know this is real."
"It's real." I caught her hands gently, stilling them. "But you've been through hell today, and I'm not going to rush this. I'm going to worship every inch of you until you forget everything except how good I can make you feel."
Her breath hitched. "Ripplan."
"Trust me." I kissed her again, softer this time, coaxing rather than demanding. "Let me take care of you."
She nodded, her eyes dark and trusting, and something in me settled. This was what she needed. Not just release, but tenderness. Proof that someone could touch her with gentleness instead of violence, with reverence instead of control.
I unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms, then bent to kiss the hollow of her throat.
She gasped, her hands tangling in my hair as I worked my way lower.
I took my time with her breasts, learning what made her arch into my touch, what made her moan.
Her nipples were sensitive, pebbling under my tongue, and when I sucked gently she cried out, her hips lifting off the bed.
"God, Ripplan." Her voice was breathless, wrecked. "That feels so good."
"You taste like heaven." I moved lower, kissing down her ribs, her stomach, pausing to trace my tongue around her navel.
Her skin was soft and warm, and underneath her usual scent of soap and herbs was something sweeter, headier.
Arousal. It made my mouth water and my cock throb painfully against my jeans.
I unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs along with her underwear, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her laid out before me. Bare and flushed and trembling with need. Mine. Every beautiful inch of her was mine.
"You're staring," she said, her voice shy but pleased.
"Can't help it." I ran my hands up her thighs, feeling the muscles quiver under my palms. "You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."
She reached for me, pulling me back up to kiss her. "I want to see you too. All of you."