Page 73 of Saved By My Buyers

“No,” I say vehemently, shaking my head.

“Then there’s nothing keeping you from us,” she says reasonably. “Jack and I know we’re a lot. I probably am going to be your shadow for, well, the rest of your life. Every time you’re out of my sight, I swear the breath leaves my body. There’s this clawing panic that I’m never going to see you again. Logically, I know that’s insane, but?—”

“Love isn’t logical, baby,” I murmur. “I’ve missed you every day for four long years. You and Jack were my port in the storm, and the only reason I’m still here at all. Those memories, even though they were painful, kept me going.”

Bronwyn is quiet as she thinks, but the silence doesn’t bother me. It never really has, because her presence has weight behind it. Having her near me is all I’ve ever needed, even when I knew Gareth was going to make me pay for it.

“You said before that you were protecting us,” she murmurs. “Will you tell me about that, please? When did this all start? I feel like I should have pushed you to talk back then, and I didn’t.”

“I should probably tell this story once,” I say, moving so she can lay next to me. “Maybe after we eat? Tell me something about you. How is school? I need to hear about normal things.”

“I love school,” Bronwyn says, her arm thrown around my waist.

“I went to public school after I left Gareth’s, and worked my ass off before applying to schools in Detroit. The undergraduate office’s interviewer was a prick, insisting on asking questions about why I decided to change schools. Jack had my records reflect that I had been to prep schools with great grades beforehand, so I wouldn’t lose the work I did.”

“How insulting was he about the fact that you went to school with the poor kids after years of attending prep schools?” I ask knowingly. If he works in the academic world, he knows how different those two worlds are.

“Oh, incredibly insulting. I told him my parents died and that financial imposition caused me to change schools,” she says. Snickering, I shake my head. I can only imagine how awful he must have felt afterward.

“Anyway, he made sure I was offered financial aid and I’m studying psychology as my major.”

“I’m proud of you,” I say honestly. “And you work at the Crisis Center, right?”

“I do. I was really depressed when I left Gareth’s, and Jack made sure I got help,” she says. “I didn’t know if you were alive or dead, and my thoughts got pretty dark. I still see my therapist for maintenance work. I can’t be a mental health professional without being willing to work on myself too.”

I remember my darker days, and the way I seriously thought about ending things when Gareth left me the knife. I hate that Bronwyn went through that too.

“I’m glad Jack helped you,” I say instead of what’s in my thoughts. I don’t need to say everything I think.

“When I walked out of that house, all I could think about was making sure Jack got you out too and getting as far away as possible. I felt dirty, I hurt, and a part of me knew it would piss him off.”

“Gareth used me for his charities and to elevate his social status,” she says. “I didn’t realize that then, but I do now. He always made sure I was too busy to spend time with you over the summer, and it was always something I couldn’t say no to.”

“Like the baking,” I remember, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “There was always something, and he made sure to announce it in a way that you had to follow through.”

“Dickhead,” she grumbles. Shocked she just said that, despite everything, my jaw drops.

“You can thank therapy for that, baby. Gareth isn’t my dad, he’s the man who donated sperm for my existence. The second he hurt you and used me as his leverage, he lost the privilege of being my father.”

The door lock turns over, and I cringe, an ingrained reaction in me now.

“The elevator is keyed to each person,” she explains quickly. “Any deliveries of food or packages have to be picked up downstairs. It’s Jack.”

The door swings open as I turn to look over my shoulder, and Jack is smiling as he walks through. He’s heartbreakingly beautiful as he closes and locks the door behind himself.

“Miss me?” he teases as he moves to the kitchen. The apartment isn’t overly large, with clean lines and open spaces. I can see why he’d choose this after selling the house.

“Yes,” I say as Bronwyn smiles and says, “Always.”

“It’s your fault if I can’t walk through doorways later,” he says with a grin, pulling out plates.

“We’ll find a way to ensure you can,” she replies, snagging my hand to pull me up. “Would it be safe to go somewhere out of the city tomorrow while you get Dahlia’s paperwork sorted?”

“Did we decide that was definitely happening?” I ask as I make my way to the island.

“I already called my team,” he says. “They’re working on getting paperwork changed over. I just need a name you want to go by. I don’t fuck around, and my team was over the moon to hear I found you. They’re very invested. I may need to loop in one of my business partners as well. He enjoys doing illegal shit with me.”

“Please don’t end up in jail,” I groan as he places my plate in front of me. It looks amazing, and Jack even plated it so it looks like we went to the restaurant

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