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A bark of harsh laughter escaped me. "For putting your life in danger. For the inconvenience? For the expense?"
Aidan grunted. "I told you you weren’t ready for this world. They’re all costs of doing business, Savannah. It’s a first that anyone’s gotten into one of our buildings and done this, but people fuck with us all the time. Today’s no different other than the elevator was carrying precious cargo."
I swallowed. "Your father would have been so mad at me—"
He released another grunt as he dipped forward and pressed a kiss to my temple. "Wasn’t talking about me, little one."
A shaken sigh escaped me as I pressed into him, sliding my arms around his waist again and huddling into him. He immediately facilitated the move, holding me close, and as I pressed my ear to his chest, I heard the steady beat of his heart and knew that he really wasn’t scared, knew that he really meant what he said.
To him, I was precious cargo.
Which settled me, somehow.
Deep inside, where all the shit was riled up, all the fear from yesterday and now this, all the adrenaline from the initial release of the exposés, the rush of writing the articles, it seemed to settle down.
Which was ironic because nobody rattled me more than he did.
Figuratively and literally.
I wasn’t even sure how long we stayed standing there like that, but eventually, we heard knocking on the doors, some kind of creaking that had my heart pounding again, and someone called out, "We’re working on getting you out of there."
Aidan’s cell buzzed at the same time, and as he let go of me with one arm, I saw that his screen was lit up and could read Conor’s message:
They’re predicting it’ll take over an hour.
Gulping, I whispered, "Aidan?"
As he put away his phone, he hummed. "Yeah?"
"Does nothing scare you?"
He grew quiet. "You really want to hear the answer to that?"
"Of course. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise."
Slowly, he said, "Very little scares me."
"I want to be like that."
"You’re fearless in your own way," he disregarded. "But you’re used to being protected, and you’re used to that protection being silent and hidden. There’s a difference."
"Maybe."
"No 'maybe' about it."
"Pain suffocates me, but it doesn't trigger fear in me, just..." He sighed. "Desperation. That’s a new Achilles’ heel of mine.
"You weren’t made for this life, Savannah. I’m not sure any woman is. I see my ma, she’s been in this world since she was born, and it’s broken her. The shit that’s happened to her, the crap that’s befallen us all things considered..." He hesitated. "You know that evening we ate together?"
"How could I forget?" I wasn’t even teasing.
"You went to the restroom, and I was just sitting there, minding my own business, when two things happened." At his sigh, I braced myself for the worst. "This guy got on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend. She said yes," he muttered absentmindedly as his hand came up to toy with my hair.
I had no idea how he even saw the strand well enough to play with it, but I wasn’t about to complain. I wouldn't have been shocked if he'd have pushed me away when he uttered those initial words, but instead, he was hauling me closer by connecting with me.
"That was a good thing, wasn’t it?" I queried, nestling into him, not wanting any space between us. For all that this terrified me, the only thing that felt right was his presence.
His touch.
