Page 25 of Rivals & Revenge

Her naked vulnerability was something I still couldn’t wrap my mind around. She was an efficient, calculating assassin. I had witnessed it with my own eyes. Two things that seemed so at odds with each other, yet somehow existed in a tiny blonde with soulful blue eyes.

My mind was a tangled mess, a storm swirling in every direction. One thought settled over me, bringing calm and clarity I’d been lacking until this moment. She’s mine.

“Hey,” she murmured softly, drawing my attention.

“Hey.”

“I guess I owe you a thank you. More than one, actually.” She said, twisting her fingers nervously.

A slow smile spread across my lips, and I gave my head a hard shake. “No. You don’t owe me a thing.”

Chapter 15

TIERNEY

I’d been sitting here alone most of the day. Rossdale moved me to a bedroom on the second floor, making it clear I was a guest and not a prisoner. Even so, a small part of me, maybe the inner petty queen who would have done the same, wonders if he didn’t move me upstairs to make my escape harder than it had been on the first floor.

The room was beautiful. Cream walls accented the warmth of the surrounding hardwoods, and a deep blue sofa and chairs matched the bedding. Beauty might work for other girls, but for me—it was a little plain.

I needed decorations and—ok, weapons. I needed weapons. The truth was, I felt more than a little naked without having at least a small arsenal within reach. At least he had left my knives on the nightstand—my emotional support knives.

At home, I had hundreds of knives and daggers, a few pistols—and my trusty scout and I felt exposed without them.

Still, Rossdale wasn’t wrong. Going home would have been suicide. Any hitter worth their salt, even the amateurs looking to make a name for themselves, would be staking out my house. Hell, they might have even set traps or rigged the whole thing to blow.

Apparently, he had extra security here. He was pretty tight-lipped about it, only offering that we were safe as long as we remained within the confines of his property.

He sent Connor to shop for some new clothes for me and I almost asked her to grab me a pretty dagger while she was out. But the half smirk playing at the edge of her lips told me she had known Ahren long enough to know exactly what I was going to ask, so I let it go.

I may not be a prisoner, but I wasn’t comfortable traipsing around his house—not yet, anyway. So that left me confined to the bedroom.

He said he wanted to talk later, to plan the next step in our strategy. I had to admire his optimism. I hadn’t reached that point yet—hell; I was still struggling with the fact that I’d survived the night.

When I walked into that room and saw the broker lying in a pool of blood, I knew I was dead. Then Rossdale appeared like the reaper coming to take me home. I knew then my time was up.

But somehow, and I still don’t understand how—he spared me. Even though it meant painting a target on his own back. I never pegged Rossdale as the altruistic type, yet I couldn’t figure out how saving me served him at all.

I think that is what I had been struggling with since that night in the grove. He saved me. I had been completely at his mercy. He could have asked for money, or any number of concessions, and I would have had no choice but to acquiesce.

Instead, he repeatedly raised his own shield in front of me. None of it made any sense. He was a heartless bastard who didn’t care about anyone, except his mutts. If he was showing concern, there had to be a reason, one I was too close to see.

I fell back against the mountain of downy soft pillows, using one as a poor man’s silencer as I screamed my frustration.

A soft chuckle brought me up short, and I threw the pillow off, bolting upright.

“Ah! Fuck!” I swore, wrapping my arms around me, hoping to ease the sharp ache of my broken ribs.

Rossdale stood in the doorway wearing an amused smirk I longed to wipe from his lips. “Please, continue. Believe me, I understand the sentiment.”

Despite his permission, I couldn’t bring myself to make another sound, instead I offered him a tight smile.

He dragged a chair over next to the bed, nearly spilling his drink as he dropped down carelessly beside me.

“We should talk. As I’m sure you know, there is a lot we need to discuss. But it occurs to me that even though we know each other’s names, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Ahren Rossdale.” he said, reaching his hand out as if this were just some droll formality. No epic rivalry, no life or death crisis, no, just, ‘hi, nice to meet you.’

I took his hand and gave it a firm shake, meeting his heavy gaze with my own.

"Tierney. Just Tierney. Last names are like tattletales. They spill all your secrets, Rossdale." I cocked my head to the side, doing my best to look innocent, something I hadn't been in a very long time.

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