Page 117 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One
That’s when I realize I’ve tensed up.
Aside from the phone call earlier and me telling her what to do to Elliot, we haven’t talked since I dropped off those pain meds for her yesterday morning.
One second, I was fine, and the next, everything felt like it was moving too fast. The way Wren looked at me after I handed her the pills was too caring, toointimate.My skin felt like it was on fire, and it took everything in me not to bolt out of there.
Now, I look between Elliot and Wren, working my jaw. This isnotthe time to freeze up. Underneath his collected exterior, Elliot is exhausted. I can’t dump Wren’s reaction to tonight on him. He needs to rest.
“Come with me,” I say as gently as I can. Then I turn and walk out of the room and down the hallway.
The kitchen is dark, so I flip a light on. My guess is Wren is hungry, considering she puked up most of her dinner.
Was I worried about her all night? Yes. Ever since I laid eyes on her in the restaurant and saw that deer in the headlights look on her face, I’ve been nothing butconsumedwith worry.
But how do I tell her that? How do I tell her that she means much more to me than she should? And how do I say that she’s handling this shitshow like a champ?
“Are you hungry?”
She grimaces, wrapping her arms around her waist. “No. But I should probably eat.”
“How about something light?”
She nods, watching me cautiously.
Just tell her how you feel. Say something. Anything.
But I don’t. I turn, rummaging through the cabinets, until I find some canned soup. When I hold it up, she nods.
I dump the soup into a pan and light the stove.
The silence between us is so uncomfortable, it’s making my skin crawl. Which is exactly what I was trying toavoid.
Hearing her yell at Adam earlier sent a spike of fear through me. I was so afraid he was hurting her, or worse. And it caused me literal pain to not immediately rush to her side.
I trust Oliver—of course I trust Oliver. But it didn’t stop me from worrying. And now, knowing how close Tyler got to her… Things could’ve gone so differently tonight. For all of us.
Fuck. I have to do something.
I spin around to look at her, and she’s standing exactly how she was a minute ago, frozen, still hugging herself. She looks so small, so scared, so overwhelmed.
What would’ve happened if we hadn’t been there to intervene when Adam came after her? What would’ve happened if she hadn’t been in the hunter’s stand with Oliver? Or if she hadn’t been watching the ladder?
Stop. Stop with the what ifs. She’s safe. Everyone is safe.
I step toward her.
Fuck this.
“Rhett—”
Before she can get another word out, I take her face in my hands, tilting her head upward, and press a kiss to her forehead. “You have no idea how fucking worried I was about you.”
She throws her arms around me and buries her head in my chest. Like this, with her completely enveloped in me, she feels so small. I suppose, in comparison to me, she is.
She doesn’t say anything. Just breathes me in, her body quivering as she tries to collect herself.
“Tell me what you need, Wren. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you. Anything.”
“I don’t know.” She clutches my shirt in her hands and looks up at me with watery eyes. “So much happened. I—you—I’ve never seen someone die like that before. There was blood everywhere. And it was so dark, and Oliver was so upset, and I didn’t know where to go. I was so scared, Rhett.”
