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Carter’s plan, this choice he wants to present to Braelynn, is a fool’s errand. She’s not one of us … yet. And I can’t allow her to prove that fact so very clearly to us all. I can’t and I won’t.
Turning off my phone and pocketing it, I wish I could rid these thoughts but everything comes back to her and what everyone will think. What they’ll say. Scenario after scenario plays out in my head as I make my way back to her.
The thud of my footsteps become louder and louder as I get closer. There is only one way that this ends with limited bloodshed: Nate spreads the whispers that the other men betrayed me and she took the fall for it until I found out the truth. All the men, allies and enemies alike believe it. And Braelynn remains loyal and close to my side.
Any other alternative and it all unravels. In this life, that means threats and death, arrests and even war. Everyone is always waiting for a weak moment. We’ve been through it time and time again.
The men will believe what I’ve told them. And she will be my perfect submissive. There is no other outcome I’ll accept.
With the need to control every single aspect of this fuckup, I open the door and then close it behind me with more anger than intended.
A short gasp from Braelynn and those gorgeous dark wide eyes pinned to me elicits a response from me that’s unexpected.
I feel sorry for her. I’m full of guilt that I brought her into this and sorry that she doesn’t have a choice anymore. “It’s just me,” I offer her in a rough tone as the emotions war inside of me.
With the blanket pulled up her chest and those wide eyes staying large and beautiful, she doesn’t answer beyond a short nod.
Carter’s right. She’s scared. It’s not something that’s easily ignored. The floorboards creak as I walk to the bed. The only thing she needs to be scared of is disappointing me. The bed groans as I sit at the end of it, frustrated with every fucking thing about this situation. I don’t want to be hard on her. With everything she’s been through and the hell storm that’s coming, I don’t want to cause her more pain or fear.
“Is everything okay?” she whispers after a moment of my silent contemplation.
“You know that I care for you and that I want to keep you safe, don’t you?” I question without turning to look her in the eyes.
The flickering of scenes from horrid nightmares makes me run a hand down my face.Care for herseems so weak compared to what I truly feel. I can barely sleep anymore without watching her die. The thought of losing her is torture.
With nearly sleepless nights filled with terrors, the whispers of men I can’t control and Carter’s reckless plan, all I can think is that she has to know I did this for her. That if only she listens, I can fix it all.
Desperation isn’t an emotion I’m privy to, but it clings to me when it comes to her. For days now, it’s a constant. Does she feel it too?
Finally, I lie down, my feet still planted on the floor and my head by the curve of Braelynn’s waist. She doesn’t join me initially. “Do you know my mom loved my dad and he loved her too?” I ask her. “You never met them, did you?” I speak without thought. Letting it all come out as it wishes. It can’t be any more reckless than what Carter suggested. I’m not aware that I’m holding my breath until she lies down beside me and her warmth wraps itself around me.
“I saw your father once.”
“Before or after my mom passed?”
“After.”
“He unraveled when she died. He was a better man when she was alive.”
Silence sits between us for a moment as she struggles to respond. Finally she admits, “I heard things.”
“What kind of things?” I question as I stare up at the ceiling fan with its revolving blades.
“He beat you. He used drugs and had Carter sell them.”
“He was an alcoholic and an abusive motherfucker.”
“I’m sorry.” The air between us is thick with remorse and uncertainty.
“I don’t want to lose you, Braelynn—I don’t know what I’ll become if you leave me.” I spit out the confession, giving her a side of me I don’t like to admit exists. It’s only for her and surely if she knows that, she’ll understand.
It’s quiet. Quiet for far too long before she murmurs a question she already knows the answer to.
“Am I … allowed to leave here? I don’t want to leave you. I just … I need to call my mother and I haven’t because she’ll ask to meet and I don’t know if I can.”
I don’t answer immediately. Instead I swallow, knowing damn well she’s eager to leave because she’s scared. Just like Carter said. It’s a knife to my chest.
“And I need to go home and—” she starts and I cut her off.
