Page 91 of Brutal Love


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Occasionally the urge to ask Cara what she’s thinking and how she feels about it all rises, but the stronger part of me wants that woman to fade into obscurity, lingering not in any mind of the people I love.

She’s haunted enough of my life.

Cara’s free hand reaches for the door handle and just as it clicks into place, my phone jingles audibly in my jean pocket. I have to let go of her hand as we exit the car and my fingertips chill with the loss, even as I grab my phone and check the messages.

“Archer gets out of hospital today?” Cara asks, closing the car door and wandering around to me in a matter of seconds. She retakes my hand as I nod.

“Yes,” I confirm. “He’s out now actually. Cain says Archer’s tired but on the mend, eager to get back out in the world.”

“I want to get him a gift,” Cara declares as she begins to lead me over the pebbles to the pale carved stone steps.

“The countless flowers you sent to the hospital weren’t enough?” I tease, sending her a glance as I text a grateful reply to Cain, passing on my thanks and my hope for Archer’s continued swift recovery. Everything is a little off-kilter without him here.

“No, a proper gift,” Cara declares easily, “he saved my life, he fought for me. For us. And he nearly died.” She stops suddenly, eyes wide. “He won’t get fired, will he?”

I stop in my tracks just shy of the step. “Fired?”

“Because his arm is broken, he can’t hold a gun or anything.” Cara turns those dark, wide eyes to me and my heart skips a beat.

“We don’t fire people for things like that,” I assure her, “and besides, Archer’s far more than just some grunt that got injured in the line of duty.”

I have no heart to tell her that people like Archer can’t ever walk away alive from a job like this. Not that he’d ever walk away, but should any guard decide to leave, it’s to a cold hole in the ground due to what they know.

“I was so scared he was going to die,” Cara admits softly, the corners of her mouth dipping down and my heart squeezes, instantly wanting to remove any thought that brings her that feeling.

“He’s strong,” I reassure as I walk beside her, “and he knew what he signed up for when he agreed to guard you. Trust me, there aren’t many people in the world that I can stand but Archer, he’s a survivor, like me. I know he’ll be proud to know he protected you.”

“You think?” Her teeth snag on her lower lip, twisting up the delicate flesh, and my chest pulses faintly at the sight.

“I know so. And he’s heading home now to be taken care of by his brothers. He’ll be back to it in no time.”

“Hm. Good.” Cara rocks up onto her tiptoes and the crease between her brows finally fades. Whatever her worry, my words seem to have soothed it.

“So,” I declare, sliding my phone back into my pocket and turning my gaze up to the stonework house before us. “What do you think?”

The old stonework of the building is set by dark oak windows that wink back at us in the afternoon sun and the left half of the front wall has ivy trailing over it, delicate like a lover's touch. Large gardens stretch for miles around and behind the house, filled with all sorts of plants, bushes, and trees perfect for children to climb in the heat of summer.

Cara takes it all in with beautiful, wide eyes and I can’t take my eyes off her, making note of how her gaze lingers on the trees and bushes.

“Don’t worry,” I murmur gently, “we’ll have a gardener to keep all this in shape.”

“It’s so…” She’s slightly breathless, at a loss for words and when her dark eyes finally land back on mine, they’re shining slightly. My heart immediately pulls south.

Does she not like it? Is this the wrong one?

“What is it?” The question slips from me softly as I lift my hand and gently cup her warm cheek, stroking my thumb just below her dark lashes. I don’t care if we have to visit ten, twenty homes for her to be safe and happy. Where we live matters not to me.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, “it’s just so… I don’t think I deserve something like this.”

Oh.

“Cara…” Releasing her hand, I gently slide my arm around her waist and pull her close until she’s snug against my chest. “You deserve this and more. Anything I can give you, I shall. This place will be our home, it’s well-protected and in a good location, and Sienna will make sure the records are lost under the piles of rich snobs that came before. We can live here, safe, and raise our family how they deserve to be raised.”

Her tears spill over and she sniffles, her warm hands resting against my shoulders as she nods.

“It’s perfect,” she replies, her voice filled with fluff before she pulls away, delicately wiping her eye. She makes it up two steps.

Now is the time.

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