Page 59 of Rescue Me

I narrow my eyes, frustration bubbling up. “That’s exactly what it looks like,” I snap. “You told them you’d back off. That’s what you said.”

She laughs softly, the sound cutting through the tension in a way that somehow makes me feel both comforted and infuriated. “Oh, Reid,” she murmurs, stepping closer until I can feel the warmth of her body against mine. “My word is my bond, baby. But there’s always a loophole.”

I blink, my mind struggling to catch up. “What the hell does that mean?”

Her smile widens, and she leans in, her nose brushing against my cheek as she speaks. “I said I’d back off,” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with steel. “But I only meant from fighting for your contract to be nullified. I never said I wouldn’t go after them for everything else.”

It takes me a second to process what she’s saying, but when it clicks, a laugh bursts out of me—sharp and incredulous. “You’re really going to sue them?”

“Reid,” she purrs, her fingers brushing along the side of my neck, tracing the edge of the bond mark that ties me to her, “I’ve already started filing.”

My breath catches as her touch lingers, the heat of her fingers against my skin grounding me in a way I didn’t think was possible after everything that’s happened. “You’re... you’re serious?” I ask, my voice quieter now, tinged with disbelief.

“Dead serious,” she says, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes are fierce, burning with determination. “They’re not walking away from this unscathed. Not after what they did to you.”

Something in her tone, in the way she looks at me like I’m worth fighting for like I’m worth everything, breaks something loose inside me. The anger, the frustration, the doubt—it all starts to dissipate, replaced by something softer, something I’m still learning how to hold onto. Hope.

I let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through my hair as I glance at the car parked a few feet away. “So, what? You’re going to drag them through court for what? Assault? Emotional abuse?”

“All of it,” she says without hesitation. “And more. I’ve got a list, baby. A long, detailed list. They think they’re untouchable, but they’re about to learn just how wrong they are.”

I shake my head, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth despite the lingering ache in my chest. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I know,” she says, her smile softening as she cups my cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against my skin. “And you’re worth every damn second of it.”

For a moment, the world fades away—the precinct, the Wilhelms, the weight of everything that’s happened. It’s just us, standing in the cold, her touch anchoring me. I lean into her hand, closing my eyes as a sigh escapes me.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Her grip tightens and when I open my eyes, she’s staring at me with a fire that takes my breath away. “Don’t you ever say that,” she says fiercely. “You deserve everything, Reid. And I’m going to make damn sure you get it.”

Chapter thirty-five

ETHAN

Reid’s home. He’s really home.

I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since Reid climbed into the car from the Wilhelm’s house. It’s been days now—three? Four? I don’t even care because every second has felt like some kind of dream I never want to wake up from. My Beta, our Beta, is here where he belongs, and for the first time, everything feels... solid. Real.

That first night was fantastic as we fell together, Zana bonding him with the three of us. It was a lazy day as I fed my mates, watching them smile up at me and tell me how perfect I was. The following day was overwhelming. Reid barely spoke, just let me curl around him in the nest, my fingers mapping every bruise, every scar. Zana stayed close, watching us like a hawk, but even she couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes when Reid finally fell asleep with his head on my chest. I stayed awake, too full of energy to settle, tracing patterns on his skin and whispering little promises he probably didn’t even hear.

Now? Things are starting to settle into something like a routine. Reid’s figuring us out and we’re figuring him out. He’s a little awkward about it—like he doesn’t know where he fits yet—but we’re showing him, step by step, that he’s ours now. Ours to keep. Ours to love.

He’s also started calling me Tahn more often and I fucking love when it says it in a whine or when he’s yelling it because I’m just a little too much. Hell, I just like when he says my name in general.

I glance over at the couch, where Reid is sitting, his long legs stretched out and his hands methodically folding one of the blankets I threw over the arm earlier. He’s got this way of tidying up that looks almost meditative like he’s trying to scrub the chaos out of his own mind by putting everything else in its place. It makes my heart ache a little, watching him find comfort in cleaning like he’s still trying to earn his keep even though he doesn’t have to. Not here. Not with us.

I don’t let him go too long before gesturing for him to join me in my makeshift nest on the floor. “Reid,” I call, grinning as I set my laptop aside. “That blanket’s fine where it is. Come here.”

He looks up, his brows furrowed slightly like he’s not sure if I’m serious. “It’s crooked,” he says, holding up the offending fabric like it’s personally insulted him.

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re crooked. Now get over here.”

He rolls his eyes but tosses the blanket onto the couch before crossing the room. When he sits, I waste no time crawling into his lap, before grabbing my laptop and settling in.

“You’re ridiculous, Tahn,” he mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his hands finding my waist like they belong there.

“Ridiculouslyadorable,” I counter, sticking my tongue out as I pull up the latest project I’m working on. “You’re just jealous.”

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