Page 70 of Unmask
Micah’s laughter rumbled up from his chest, deep and genuine. He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe the situation we’d found ourselves in. “Who the hell knows?” he said, dimples flashing as his grin transformed his entire face. “Maybe we’ll end up friends when this nightmare is over.”
“Don’t count on it,” Grayson muttered.
Fynn coughed and then cleared his throat.
“Well, regardless, this is going to be a hell of a team-up.” Micah smirked as he pressed the beer bottle to his lips.
The cocky grin reminded me too much of Mason’s. They had the same carefree, nothing-mattered playboy vibe. Having two of them on the same side seemed a reckless combination. “Is he always like this?”
“Yes,” three in-unison confirmations echoed in the kitchen.
Brock’s gaze didn’t leave mine. “I had my doubts about you after the shit at the warehouse. I still do, but you showing up here, putting in the effort to protect from not just a potential killer but your father, means something and hasn’t gone unnoticed by me. But…if you fuck up, fuck her over again, or hurt her, and I don’t just mean physically, we’ll end you.”
Four very intimidating guys smiled at me. Not in a friendly manner but in a way that said they would take pleasure in causing me pain. I understood the threat all too well.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about having Brock and the Elite watch me, but I was hardly surprised. “If I screw up again, I’ll offer myself to you on a fucking gold platter.”
Brock nodded, accepting my response.
It was time to add some ground rules of my own. “That being said, I want Kaylor involved as little as possible, and I don’t want to tell her about Rusty until I have proof. I don’t want to create any false hope or tip off the traitor by her being unable to control her emotions. She’s been through enough. And if I’m going to keep her from doing something reckless, I need to know she’s safe.”
“We all have people we want to protect, but from personal experience, the girls in our lives don’t like to be left out. We’ve learned the hard way about keeping them in the dark. You might want to rethink your strategy, mini boss,” Grayson said, giving me unsolicited advice.
I didn’t like the nickname or the advice.
The air had been cleared, and the Elite and Ravens knew exactly where they stood with each other. Now we’d just had to see how well we could work together. It should be interesting, to say the least.
Leaving the Elite in the kitchen, I headed upstairs, half expecting Brock to stop me or ask me where the hell I thought I was going. He didn’t. Perhaps he could see that I needed her as much as she needed me, especially tonight. Those nightmares of hers wouldn’t stay quiet for long. I knew from experience they always came crawling back when your guard was down, when the world went dark and silence made space for the shit you’d buried. Night didn’t forgive. It reminded.
It wouldn’t have made a difference if he tried to stop me. Lucifer himself couldn’t have kept me from her room.
The door to her bedroom was cracked just enough for a sliver of hallway light to slash across the floorboards. Quietly, I reached out, fingers brushing the cool handle, and nudged the door open with a slow push. The hinges didn’t creak. I slipped inside, the air faintly sweet with the scent of her, vanilla and something warmer underneath that made my lungs stutter if I breathed too deeply.
My eyes landed on her instantly. Kaylor was curled in on herself, limbs tangled in the blankets. Her face was half buried in the pillow, one hand clutching the edge, the barest crease between her brows. Even in sleep, she couldn’t let go of whatever hell still haunted her.
It hit me square in the chest, an ache that never fucking let up.
She deserved better. Better than this room that wasn’t hers. Better than watching shadows for movement. Better than having to count on a guy like me.
But she had me anyway.
No matter how many nights passed, how many plans we made to protect her, it wouldn’t erase the fact that she’d never be safe enough until the threat was extinguished.
I crossed the room on silent steps, lowering into the chair beside her bed. My elbows dropped to my knees, fingers laced, eyes locked on the shape of her. I could have slipped into the bed beside her. Could have pulled her close and kept the nightmares at bay with the weight of my body, but I didn’t want to risk waking her. If she could grab even a few hours of real sleep, I wasn’t going to screw it up.
So I sat.
And I watched.
And I waited.
At some point, maybe an hour in, her body shifted as a soft sound escaped her lips, barely more than breath.
“Kreed…” My name. So faint it almost didn’t feel real, but it was, and it wrecked me.
She said it like I was safety, like I was home.
Fuck.
