Page 23 of Falcon's Prey

I looked at Ren, still mad at him for what happened earlier, but a part of me wanted to ask for help. For what I had no idea. With everything going on—the nerves over seeing Silas, then the accident—I hadn’t gotten a good look at him. He was in a suit, and I supposed he looked handsome, but he didn’t look like himself; he looked more like every other guy I knew.

My gaze collided with his, and for the first time, there wasn’t disdain staring back at me.

“Ren.” I whispered his name like a prayer.

His nostrils flared, and his eyes swirled like a thunder in the day.

“Ember.” I heard my name.

My lip trembled, and I slowly turned toward Silas. He stood there looking between my bodyguard and me. I was aware we had eyes on us—not just that of our detail but staff. Doing what was expected, I ran to him. I reached him with tears in my eyes, not for him or my father, but for me.

“Fuck, baby. I’m right here. I’m okay,” Silas whispered in my ear as he comforted me.

I cried because, for a second, I wished he were dead. That was when I noticed my father was not with us.

“Where’s my dad?”

Silas pulled back and fixed his fucking tie. His jaw clenched a bit, and he looked anywhere but me.

“He’s in surgery. The fuckers who hit us ran.”

“What do you mean, ran?” Ren said, coming close to me again.

I closed my eyes when I felt his heat at my back.

“Exactly what I said. Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“I need a moment,” I said as I ran away to the women’s bathroom.

I sank behind the door, and I cried. It didn’t matter who I was or who I pretended to be; I was a spineless little piece of shit.

Moments like this, I wished I had real friends. Someone to share my burdens with. Truth be told, I never let anyone close for fear they would see all the ugly shit I hid. I was all about being on a surface level. Like the tip of an iceberg, you never knew how much damage it would do until you collided with them.

“Ember.” Ren’s voice sounded worried on the other side of the door.

“Just a second,” I called back.

I got up from the floor and fixed my makeup. Still, there was no hiding that I’d cried. When I pulled the door open, I was met with Ren’s chest.

“What have I told you about running out on your own?” he asked in a soft tone.

“So, just because my dad might be dying, you’re going to be nice to me?” I spat at him. I think he knew I needed a distraction.

A smile spread across his face, and my stomach dipped. I’d seen him angry, frustrated, but not happy. Well, not that he looked happy, but pleased.

“What?” I asked, touching my face.

“Nothing. Come on, let’s go.” He pulled me out of the bathroom and dragged me back to the hall where Silas now stood with a doctor.

We made it there in time to hear the doctor tell Silas my dad would pull through. That the internal damage was controlled, and he had high hopes. I felt so relieved that I leaned into Ren, letting myself grow slack in his arms.

“Your father’s going to be fine,” Ren said. “You can go back to being a thirsty little slut for my dick tomorrow.”

I pulled back from him and walked away to the room where my dad was lying unconscious.

* * *

Silas was fucking me,and I should have felt ashamed, repulsed. Instead, I was dripping wet. I’d had sex before, but not like this—not like him. He kept worshiping me and kissing me—he loved me.

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