Page 147 of Wait For It

She gave a jerky nod in response, mashing her lips together to stop them from quivering. Something about seeing her frightened stoked my rage and made my blood pump harder and faster, urging me to eliminate the danger myself.

What are we willing to do to keep Colleen’s daughter safe?

I was willing to plow through a line of religious zealots using only my fists.

When we reached the curb, Noah hustled us into the backseat of the waiting SUV and slammed the doors. I slid across the middle seat and clutched Ari to the front of my body, close enough that I could feel her racing heart.

Just as fast as a jackrabbit’s.

“Hey. I’ve got you now,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “I’ve got you now.”

She tipped her chin up and patted my bicep with a weak smile. “I’m fine, really. It only hurts if you let it, and I won’t.”

“Yeah, well, I might,” I grumbled, glaring a hole in the back of Noah’s head. “Because, apparently, I’m the only one who sees a problem with what happened back there.”

Until now, my biggest concern had been the media attention. I never imagined that Tristan would still be calling the shots from the inside of a cell, and there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind his fingerprints were all over this.

“Freedom of assembly,” Noah sighed, lifting his eyes to the rearview mirror. “As long as they’re not obstructing traffic or attacking—”

“Did you hear them?” I blurted, immediately lowering my voice when Ari flinched in my arms. “They were threatening to stone her, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not big on the idea of waiting to see if they follow through. If even one of those assholes thinks about throwing a rock, I’m putting them down. End of story.”

My father cleared his throat from behind me. “He’s right, son. This is how these groups work. It’s going to be hard to prove a threat based on Bible verses and a badly photoshopped poster. Law enforcement can’t charge them with anything until they break the law.”

A shudder worked its way from the base of my skull down my spine. Every cell in my body was against the idea of waiting until she got hurt to do something.

“I want to go home now,” Ari mumbled against my chest. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused.

“Don’t you want to go see the tree, baby?” I asked, tucking her hair behind one ear. “You were so excited.”

She gave a subtle shake of her head and pulled away to look out the window. “I think I’d rather just go home.”

I debated over what to say, wanting to argue with the decision because I’d seen the way her entire face had lit up over that damn tree. In the end, I gave her what I thought she needed the most.

“We’ll go wherever you want to go.” I kept my voice calm and soothing. Inside, I was anything but.

“Home,” she said, covering my hand with hers.

Tristan might have been the one locked inside a cell, but she was the prisoner. My breath hitched with the realization that I’d been wrong before.

This was helplessness.

Just because she knows how to fight doesn’t mean she should have to keep doing it.

After exchanging another look with my dad, I was forced to accept that the city I loved had become a war zone. Ari was no longer safe here.

I sat in a chair near the bed with my chin resting against my fist, watching Ari sleep. She’d left the closet light on again and a sliver cut across the room, illuminating her relaxed features.

Her fear of the dark had never come from a monster who lived under the bed, but the one who slept down the hall.

My building had a doorman and security cameras. A keycard was required to access my floor. It was why I’d chosen to live here, knowing it would always be the one place I could go to escape the world. Right now, it was easy to believe there was no place safer for her than in my bed, tucked under the blankets.

Ari exhaled a soft sigh in her sleep. I leaned forward, still on high alert, prepared to do whatever necessary to protect my woman.

Maybe that was why my mind was such a mess. Because ‘whatever necessary’ didn’t exactly fit in with my future plans. It didn’t take into consideration my feelings and what I needed.

I would have given her anything she wanted, but she’d never ask for this. A woman who’d been brought up inside a cage would never ask for freedom. If I quarantined her to the condo under some guise of love, was I any better than the man who’d raised her? Did I want to be the reason her spark fizzled out? Become her keeper, instead of her lover?

My version of safety would ultimately destroy her.

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