Page 11 of Vengeful Guard

I remain seated at the table and slowly eat a few more berries while Gray’s in the kitchen. I do have to admit, the smells coming from the cracked open door make my stomach rumble.

I really haven’t been taking care of myself.

Maybe Gray’s right. Maybe I do need to be protected. It just makes me feel small and weak.

I’m a Burke, dammit. I shouldn’t be so messed up over one attempted kidnapping. I mean, look at Bree! She was actually kidnapped, and she’s not falling apart at the seams. Hell, she was even forced to marry my brother. The son of her father’s worst enemy.

Granted, she came out winning in the end, got the love of her life. And she’s now away from the monster that is Niall Murphy. Her father.

Gray returns, having made me a breakfast sandwich with mayo, bacon, and a fried egg, and I start to salivate just looking at it.

He grins. “You’re lucky you had eggs, because this is the only thing I know how to cook.”

I chuckle. “Thank you, big brother.”

Gray’s eyes go soft, and he sits the plate down in front of me, leaning over to kiss my forehead.

“Eat up.”

“So, who’s going to be my bodyguard?” I take a big bite.

I close my eyes at the taste—the fat of the bacon mixed with the runny egg is absolutely delicious.

Gray shrugs. “I don’t know yet. We have a couple of people in mind, but it’ll be someone we trust.”

I nod, chewing slowly so that my stomach, unused to heavy meals, won’t revolt.

By the time I’m finished with the sandwich, I feel about ten times better.

“Thank you,” I murmur as Gray starts to clear the table.

“You’re welcome, mo stóirín.” Gray grins. “And if you have more nightmares, you know that you can always call me.”

I smile back, grateful for his presence in my life, and I can’t help myself from standing up and hugging him tightly before he leaves.

Gray seems surprised by the affection, stiffening before putting his arms around me. Gray has never been one for hugs, so it means a lot to me that he hugs me back.

Tears stand in my eyes as he leaves the room, and I look away, not wanting to start crying in the dining room.

I take a shaky breath and head back up to my room. I need to decompress.

I call Sophie, as I do most days, and she answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Soph,” I murmur. “Did I wake you?”

“No.”

But she then yawns so loudly it makes me chuckle.

“Fine, maybe. What’s up? Did you have another nightmare?”

Sophie’s my best friend, and I tell her everything, so she knows that I’ve been having a hard time. She knows more than my family does, honestly.

There’s something about a childhood best friend. They know you the way that no one else does.

Besides, she doesn’t pity me, doesn’t coddle me. She just lets me be myself, good and bad.

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