Page 31 of Crash’s Secret

He studies me, and whatever he’s looking for, he finds it.

“You’re the closest thing I have to a blood brother,” he says. “Always have been. I spent yesterday wanting to kill you. But the whole time, some part of me kept thinking, if it had to be somebody, there’s only one man I’d trust with her.” He stands, comes around the table, and puts his hand out. “I’m glad it’s you, Crash.”

I stand and take it. Then I pull him into a hug.

“Go on,” he says. “She’s waiting on you, and we both know it.”

I’m at the door when he adds, “Crash.”

I turn.

“Welcome to the family. Officially.” A beat. “It’s a nightmare. You’ll fit right in.”

Her door is locked again.

Good girl.

I knock twice. “It’s me,” I call out.

She opens it within seconds.

She’s showered. Wet hair, an old T-shirt, the seatbelt bruise coming up along her collarbone, the cut at her temple cleaned up. She looks like she went through a war, because she did.

And even with all the injuries, she’s still fucking beautiful.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi.”

She steps back to let me in, and I shut the door and lock it, and then I just stand there looking at her. I rehearsed what I wanted to say, but I can’t remember a thing.

“You’re staring,” she says.

I shrug. “I’m allowed.”

“Oh, yeah? With whose permission?”

“Your brother, as of a few minutes ago.”

Her lips part, but for once she’s got nothing. This woman is never at a loss for words.

“Sit down,” I say. “Before you fall down.”

She sits on the edge of the bed. I crouch in front of her, take her hands, and turn them over in mine. Zip-tie marks around both wrists, raw and red. I run my thumb beside them, not on them, and the rage comes up my spine again. I breathe it back down. The men who did it are dead. There’s nobody left to hurt for her.

There’s only this.

“He gave us his blessing,” I say.

She pulls one hand free and puts it against my face, careful of the bruise her brother left there. Her thumb moves along the swollen edge of it.

“You let him hit you,” she says. “You didn’t fight back.”

“I had it coming.”

“You didn’t.”

“I betrayed his trust. I had it coming.” I catch her hand and press my mouth to her palm, soft as I know how. “I said it wrong yesterday. So I’m saying it again, the way I wanted to.”