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“Do you even know how strong you are?”
A roll of her eye let him snicker. How could he even say that when she stood there wiping away tear after tear?
“I mean it. I’ve known you for twenty-one years now and I’ve only seen you shed tears twice.”
She furrowed her brows, trying to recollect the memory of the first time she’d cried in front of him. Was it that day that her dad walked away from them for good? She left her mom and sisters inside to deal with his talk. She heard enough to know that she’d never see her father again. He wouldn’t come back like he’d done in the past.
She ran to next door, and Ronan instantly took her in for a hug.
He didn’t ask her stupid questions. He didn’t persuade her to talk.
At the time, Ronan already clued in on the constant fighting of her parents and how she would run outside to escape the tension at her house.
What he did was make her laugh. One stupid joke after the other followed. Ronan Mills turned into her escape from reality.
She brought back her staring gaze from the fields to Ronan and said, “I never cried. Well, not around you. Or anyone else. Not after my father left us. And not when my mother was so depressed. She slept for hours only to wake up and yell at us.”
“I know, Red. But when I was half out of it in the hospital after being stabbed, you told me to wake up and in the next moment you were sobbing.”
She’d forgotten all about that little episode. Damn him for being half awake at that time and remembering.
“It was the moment you let me kiss you in my hospital room with my grandfather and two of my brothers there. In that moment I knew we still had a chance.”
She nodded, unable to find the words. He had her pegged all along. Ronan Mills was the one person who almost knew her better than herself.
“And that first kiss time fooling around on my sofa? Or at Declan’s house during that weekend babysitting the twins? It brought me to my knees, Fi. After being close with you again, I knew that this was it for us.”
“Will you promise me one thing?”
His hands slid down to her lower back and rested on top of her bum. She felt safe. Protected.
And she realized it was so much more than a simple familiarity. While she never knew at home, whom she would find, or in what state… Ronan had been her constant. The one she could rely on.
“Anything,” he said.
“Promise me that if I push you away again, that you won’t let me. Fight me on it. Drag me by my hair if you need to. Don’t ever let me run away from you again.”
Understanding shone in his eyes. He nodded before he solemnly said, “I promise.”
She kissed him to seal the deal.
16
Ronan
Ronan parked his truck on the side of the Iron Vikings MC clubhouse next to the long line of hogs. The industrial plot in the middle of nowhere outside of Austin was obscure enough to give the MC some privacy. He took a moment to let his gaze travel over the scrap heap in the back and the office in front of the MC’s towing company and garage to the side.
Some men and women milled around the few picnic tables in the courtyard between the clubhouse and the businesses. A guy he didn’t recognize parked his ride next to him, giving him a nod.
Some skinny prospect pulled the door to the clubhouse open and said, “Hey, Ronan! Are you here to take on Devlin?”
The prospect must have seen him in action at one of the club’s fight nights as he saw the awe written all over this young men’s face.
His mind took him back ten years ago, when he was a nineteen-year-old wanting to prospect for the club. He was glad he hadn’t pushed through but instead listened to his brother Brennan, who talked him out of it.
“Not fightin’ tonight. Devlin. He ‘round?”
The scrawny blonde nodded and said, “He’s in the back.”
