Page 96 of Branded
But I was learning that sometimes the strongest thing I could do was to be still, be silent, be there.
And eventually, her shaking subsided.
Eventually, her gaze met mine. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” I asked, stroking my fingers through her hair.
“I-I—” A breath, her lids sliding closed then opened. “Every time he’s like that, I can’t say anything. I just stand there and?—”
“Baby,” I said, hating to interrupt her, but she needed to know.
“What?” Her eyes drifted away, shame in those emerald depths.
“You participated in that conversation. You held him accountable—or tried to, anyway. Did he listen? Fuck no, he didn’t.” I tilted her head back. “But you weren’t silent, little bird. You were strong, and you communicated your thoughts and?—”
“I didn’t tell him to leave, didn’t get him to go out the door.”
Ah.
That was what this was about.
“That’s my job, little bird,” I said. “I’m big and strong and good at scaring people and hitting shit”—her brows dragged together—“I’m good at being the one doing the enforcing, and I don’t mind taking your back when you need it.”
Still. Her body went still.
Then it relaxed, her hand coming to my cheek, my jaw.
“Big and strong,” she murmured, and hell if I didn’t feel that right in my cock. “But what happens when you’re not strong, baby?” she asked. “What happens when you need me to be the enforcer, and I struggle to step up in the same way?”
First, that would never happen.
Second, that would never happen.
But…
“You helped me with Hazel’s shit,” I said. “And you made the plug-in for me. You found ways to care for me and”—I smiled, really wanting to lighten the mood so that I could either get my woman the rest she needed, or to get my woman off—“I doubt that you’ll stop finding them. Plus,” I added, “I think we both know that strength doesn’t always pair with size or the ability to make a scene.”
“Oliver,” she whispered.
I nodded.
My friend, who’d lost his leg and rebuilt his life without seeing it as a loss.
“And Pru,” she added.
Another nod. The scout had experienced her share of childhood trauma, but she’d made a great life for herself.
“And others.”
I pressed my lips to her forehead.
“And you, little bird. You’re the strongest person I know.”
Twenty-Six
Kailey
“Another cheese stick, madame?” Beth asked, two weeks later, on what was becoming our bimonthly Cheese Night Extravaganza.
