Page 138 of Oathbreaker

“What? You want me next to Rio?”

“No, I’m driving now.” Her eyes roll in the direction of her eyebrows. Without a word, she gets into the passenger seat, and Rio closes the door.

Winter pipes up again when I’m in the driver’s seat and pulling into the traffic.

“Where is everyone?” She looks around.

I glance at her. “I told them to give us some space.”

“Is that safe?” She brings her hand to her mouth, biting a nail. I pull her hand down, lacing her fingers with mine.

“Of course, baby.”

Probably. In any event, I have at least forty men surrounding us, out of sight.

She visibly swallows and gives me a sharp nod.

We’re silent for a while, taking the long way to our destination. When we finally pull up to 110UWest, she speaks again.

“My apartment? I haven’t been here in months,” she says.

“Call it nostalgia,” I say, then I kiss her hand.

The guards are close by, but I told them to be invisible to her. I don’t know everything that’s happening—in fact, I don’t know shit.

But I know that what Winter does need is me, and she needs it to be only us, even if it’s just for a little while. We can enter our bubble and pretend the world isn’t spinning off its axis.

We walk to her door, and before she opens it, I spin her around, bracketing her against it with my arms. She closes her eyes against the intensity of my gaze.

“Look at me, baby,” I murmur.

She’s slow to open her eyes but does all the same.

“Something’s going on with you, and we’ll hash it all out later. But when we go inside, I want you to try to push out whatever it is that’s got you running scared. When we cross the door, it’s just you and me. Hunter and Winter. No one else. Nothing else. Okay?”

She looks into my eyes with as much intensity as I’m sure is in my gaze. Then she says, “Perfect.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

WINTER

The lock whirrs as I press my phone to the keypad.

It’s hard to believe it’s been months since I last visited my apartment. But when I open the door, I don’t see a condemnable mess.

Instead, everything is pristine. Someone even watered my plants.

I spin around to face Hunter. “This you?”

He smiles at me softly, and I take a moment to really see him. He looks so exhausted. Dark circles shadow his eyes and wrinkles mar his messy shirt.

“I knew you wouldn’t like it if I ended your apartment lease without your input, so I made sure the place was taken care of until you were ready to let it go.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. I hear the unspoken context: Let it go or run back to it.

“I see,” I murmur. I drop my bag on the leather sofa I was so proud of purchasing when I moved into this place.

I walk to my meditation corner. The crystals are still in the same spot next to my sound bowl.

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