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He sweeps soft kisses on my lips, my temple, my cheek. Holding my head on his chest, he runs a hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry,” he tells me. The broken rawness in his voice makes me ache. “I’m so, so sorry.”
My pulse races, the enormity of tonight sinking in.
My heart.
My health.
My life.
My safe space violated.
A cry wrenches itself from lungs. I twist my body in Charlie’s arms, burying my face against his shoulder and weep.
He says something in a low rumble to his brothers, and I let him hold me, relishing the strength of his body.
“You’re safe. I have you, Ruby.” Charlie’s voice is a ragged promise that breathes murder and tenderness all at once. He carries me out of the cottage and heads to his cabin as raindrops fall from the sky. “I have you, and I’m not letting go.”
The hardwood floors creak beneath my boots as I pace a hole in the hallway, my fury on a rolling simmer. Thunder rumbles outside and I glance at the open doorway of my bedroom. Ruby’s laid out on the bed talking in low tones to Curt, the staff medic we keep on site. As if sensing my eyes on her, she turns her head to meet my gaze. Heavy lidded eyes look back at me, her rose-gold hair spread out on the pillows, and she graces me with a small smile.
Something protective and primal snaps inside of me.
War. This is fucking war.
On instinct, my hand balls into a fist and I lift it, aching to take a swing. I want to plow my fist into someone’s face over and over again.
“You wanna punch something, wait for the Wolfingtons,” Ford says as he and Davis come to the top of the stairs.
I release my breath, loosen my fist. “I’m going to kill them.”
“Easy, man.” Ford claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t lose your head.”
“It’s already fucking gone,” I grit out, tearing a hand through my hair.
The Wolfingtons don’t know what they’ve done. No one touches Ruby.
The image of finding her crumpled on the ground is seared in my brain. Slipping her limp body into my arms, not knowing whether she was alive or dead, pulled me apart. An undeniable reminder that I could lose her. The relief I felt feeling a pulse. The rage I felt knowing someone had hurt her.
She needed me and I wasn’t there.
Once again, always a minute too late, a heartbeat away from my girl.
Wyatt comes limping down the hallway. “When we fightin’?”
“Shut up and rest,” I bark, giving him a worried once over. He’s got a minor concussion, but damn if that can stop the kid.
Eyes glassy, Wyatt leans on the wall. “Damn. I get kicked around and I still don’t get any respect.”
“C’mon,” Ford says with a wide grin. He steers our little brother away. “I’ll tell you a bedtime story about how much of a pain in the ass you are.”
Davis watches them lope down the hall, then turns to me. “We wait,” he says in a low voice, his face all business now.
Even though he’s cool-headed and responsible, Davis is the one to worry about when trouble touches our family. I see blood in his eyes.
“We give it a few days. Let Wyatt heal. We go when they least expect us, so we get the jump on them. We’ll weed the Wolfingtons out first. If it’s not them, it’s DVL.”
I nod.
“Charlie,” he says, a tightness in his voice that has me frowning. “I checked out the security footage. With the new cameras installed ...” He sighs. “Ruby’s cottage was just out of reach.”
