Page 28 of Splintered Security
That fucker thought she was worth so little that he’d not only share her, but force her to share herself.
The roar that pours out of me is a wrath I’ve never known. Not when facing down terrorists on a mountainside in Pakistan. Not when I watched my brothers on the battlefield cut down before my eyes. I seethe until the swarm inside me calms into a focus I haven’t felt since those incursions. Live and fight—or die trying.
“Never again.” My words are a vehement whisper. It’s all I can get past my throat after the snarl before it. “Never.”
I wait for my pulse to calm, sitting as still as I can, holding Anni’s feet where they rest.
At some point as I wait for my breathing to calm, she sits up, nestles into my lap, and buries her face in my chest. “I’m sorry, Ren.”
“Don’t.” I squeeze my arms around her, cutting off that trainof thought. “Don’t ever apologize again for something you didn’t do.”
“I mean for upsetting you.”
“You didn’t. He did. And he’ll pay. He’ll pay for Aug. And he’ll pay for what he did to you.”
“I chose—” Another squeeze cuts her off. This time she doesn’t continue.
I sit, holding her, allowing her warmth to seep into me, her body to soothe me, and her presence to ground me.
When I’m calm, I stand, carrying her in my arms to our bed and set her down on the edge. I strip off her shirt and pants before doing the same to my own, and settle us under the covers.
Once she’s tucked into me, I stroke her hair until her breathing lulls and she softens into me in sleep. I stare at the beauty in my arms. At her stunning features and her vulnerability. I study her eyelashes resting on her cheeks and her rosy lips popped open in sleep. I listen to her breathing and feel her body rise and fall into my own.
What I do not do is sleep. I focus on my wife, and I plot the murder of Heath Giltenhouse in the most brutal ways. Cruel and vicious ways that publicly humiliate him and assure his legacy is laughable until it’s totally and completely forgotten. If I have to take out the whole club, so be it.
Sometime long after midnight, I slide out of bed and throw the dishes in the dishwasher, put the bourbon away, and shut down the house. I also send a text to someone I never expected to contact.
Me: I need a favor. Can you get me everything you know on the Lost Mountain Rebels, especially Heath Giltenhouse, Troy Smith, Junior Conyers, and August Garver?
Liam Murphy: For my brother-in-law?
Of course he wants to know if it’s for Barone.
Me: No.
Liam Murphy: Roger that. Give me a bit.
Me: I need it as quickly as possible.
Liam Murphy: I’m on it.
Me: Thank you.
I return to my bedroom, and for the third night in a row, I slide in next to a woman I never expected to see here—not in my wildest dreams.
Or in my dirtiest fantasies.
I pull her into my body and bury my nose in her hair, breathing deeply. “Never again,” I whisper into the crown of her head.
When the sun pushes above the horizon, I let myselfrest.
Anni
I wake on Saturday morning feeling fundamentally different.
Maybe it’s being unburdened of all the things I’ve been holding inside for years now. Pieces were known by some, but now everything is out there for Ren. The release was therapeutic in ways I didn’t expect.
Maybe it’s being married —even if this one is a sham just like my one to Heath. Though, somehow, it feels more real than anything else in my life.
