Page 152 of Edge of Unbroken

“Yeah, I’m going to go hang out with Zack for a while,” he says, then looks at his dad. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Frank sighs. “It’s been a day.” He runs his hand over his scruffy jaw. “Darren has really tried to demystify this whole thing for Ran. He warned us again that he’s going to show the surveillance footage I have of every time Rica hurt Ran, no matter how small the incident, and he’s going to ask Ronan to recollect every single one of them.” Frank makes a pained face.

“The defense attorney knows about the surveillance footage, right?” my mom asks.

Frank nods.

“I guess I don’t understand why they’d want to go through with the trial at all,” my mom says. “Seems dangerous to face a jury when there’s such damning evidence, or is it just me?”

“That’s what I thought.” Frank takes a seat in the armchair, running his hand across his face again. “The defense is going to assert that Rica had her own pervasive childhood trauma, which I know to be true.” I listen intently to this conversation. “Her father is a high-ranking military official; really strict, no-nonsense type, and he apparently very much believed in corporal punishment. I don’t really know the details, but from what I’ve learned, the abuse mirrored what Rica did to Ran. Very similar M.O.”

“So really,” my mom says, “she was continuing the cycle of abuse. She parented the way she was parented, is that what they’re going to say?”

“Yes. They’re going to argue that she suffered from mental health issues, that she was physically abused by her father, which caused her to do the same to her own son.”

Penny moves to Frank, caressing the back of his neck. “Darren said he doesn’t think it’ll get Rica completely off the hook, but it may sway a jury a little bit and might affect her sentencing if she’s found guilty. Darren was trying to make a deal with the defense, to spare Ran from having to testify, but the defense attorney thinks he can get a better outcome at trial.”

I sigh deeply. “I’m so anxious for Ran. I wish I could be up there with him tomorrow.”

Frank smiles at me appreciatively and stands. “Thank you for being good to my boy,” he says, and pulls me in for a one-armed hug.

“He’s good to me, too.”

“Well, he said he’s not really up for going out to dinner tonight. Maybe we should just eat in?” Frank asks. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone right now.”

I’m not surprised Frank is hesitant, given Ronan’s history and dark thoughts. He’s only been back a month, and I can understand why Frank is still trying to gauge Ronan’s mental state, especially as Ronan’s testimony approaches.

“Why don’t I stay behind and hang out with him here?” I ask sheepishly, trying hard to maintain a neutral expression. “Maybe just bring us back some dinner?”

I’d love to spend some alone time with Ronan; it’s still a rarity. We’re usually surrounded by one or more of our friends or at each other’s homes where parents are always lurking. Those moments when it’s truly just him and me are a stolen few, though we definitely take advantage of them.

“I mean, that would be great,” Frank says, raising his dark eyebrows at me. “Are you sure?”

“You’re asking me if I’m sure I want to hang out with Ran? Um, let me think about that for a second. Yes, of course I’m sure.”

Frank chuckles. “Of course you are. Why did I think you would choose food over your boyfriend,” he laughs. “Ran’s upstairs. He should be right back down.”

I wait until my mom, Penny, and Frank drive off in Frank’s Tahoe, then make my way up the stairs and to Ronan’s room. It’s empty, though I notice the door to the Jack-and-Jill bathroom Ronan shares with Steve is closed. I can hear the shower running.

I stand for a second, unsure of what to do and if he even knows I’m here.

There’s something tantalizing about the knowledge that he’s under the shower right now, naked. My pulse increases with images of his hands and mouth roaming my body, feeling and tasting me. It would be a shame to let this unsupervised hour go to waste.

A split-second decision later, I pull off my shirt, then undo my bra, dropping both to the floor by Ronan’s bed before kicking off my shoes and unbuttoning my jeans. My heart positively gallops in my chest at what I’m about to do. I’ve never walked in on a boy, nevereverput myself out there like that. But I want this; I want Ronan. Right now.

I walk to the bathroom and turn the doorknob. My throat is dry, and I swallow hard as I slowly pull the door open. I’m hyper-aware of my near-complete nakedness, and even though Ronan has seen, tasted, felt all of me, I nonetheless feel exposed and vulnerable.

I almost back out of my seductive little plan, close the door, and put my clothes back on, but then I spot him. My eyes are glued to his perfect body, dripping wet, beads of water running down his neck, his back, his legs. His head is dipped down, eyes closed, the palms of his hands resting against the wall, supporting him.

I stand for a few seconds, admiring him. It’s clear that Ronan has regained every ounce of strength he lost after waking from his coma, not only from the manual labor he performed in Montana but the daily workouts he’s been putting himself through since coming home. Bless that muscle memory of his. Ronan’s lean muscles are beautifully contoured, the ridges deep and well-defined. I watch him reach for his bodywash, the scent of which always mingles so perfectly with his natural masculine scent.

“Can I help you with that?” I ask more confidently than I feel.

His head snaps in my direction. “Cat! What are you…” His eyes instantly darken at my state of undress, and I start to walk toward the shower. He watches my every move intently. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice husky. His breathing is already picking up.

I drop my panties, pull open the glass shower door and step close to him, letting the warm water run over my body. “Surprise,” I breathe.

Ronan looks around as though expecting to see our parents walk in on us any second now.

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