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It took her several moments to calculate army time into normal time, then guilt twisted her insides into a painful knot. Oh no. Oh please say she hadn't fucked that up for him. “You went out and made yourself known, right? Listened to the fancy little welcome speech and got the slaps on the back and the…” She trailed off when he didn't lose that smile. She could read the answer in his eyes. “Fuck. Fuck, Thane, why didn't you go?”
He linked his fingers through hers. “There were more important things on my mind than slaps on the back, Connie. A man has priorities, and you’re mine. It's fine, I promise. Are you ready to go home or do you want to stay here?”
A second helping of guilt at making him miss his big night gnawed at her. Adding additional Masters to the club was a rare occurrence, and had only happened a few times since the club opened. A couple had moved on to pastures new, and one had been fired from the position and banned. The most recent additions were Loki and Liam, and their ascension to the inner circle had been a few years ago.
The announcement was a rite of passage for new Masters, and he'd missed it because of her.
“Home,” Thane decided. “You need more sleep in a proper bed.” He turned to the desk and pressed a button. When the light turned solid green, he said, “Liam, we're heading home. Would you mind getting the door?”
“Sure thing. Be right there.”
“Why are you not angry with me for ruining tonight?” she asked.
“Because nothing was ruined. You took your punishment for snapping at me—that's done and dusted, sugar. Can't say I'm not irritated that you chose to bolt rather than talk to me, but we'll discuss that when you're not pale as glass.” He tossed her dress over his shoulder, then tugged her onto her feet. As the blanket slipped, he caught it and wrapped it around her from the back, then hefted her into his arms and limped toward the door. “We'll get your boots tomorrow.”
“You sat here for five hours?” she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder. “Are you crazy?”
“For you. Only for you would I listen to that damn audiobook for hours. I thought I liked anal,” he muttered, carrying her through the office door as Liam opened it. “That dude practically lived up the heroine's ass. For someone who had an aversion to anal sex, you sure like listening to it.”
When she squeaked, he laughed and kissed her hair. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Connie. It's definitely entertaining to listen to, and I picked up some new ideas.”
“You wouldn't.”
“Of course I would.” Thane swept her out onto the porch as Liam opened that door too, then turned. “Thanks for waiting for us, Liam. Sorry we kept you so late.”
“No problem, it's not far off my usual time for locking up and going home. Drive safe.” Liam winked and shut the doors, the locks sliding home.
The night was crisp enough that their breath was visible. Connie huddled into the blanket, into Thane, to keep warm as he carried her across the empty parking lot. She noticed the living room light was on in the house; she hoped Bodie was having a quiet night. The less turmoil that girl faced over the next few months, the better.
If Connie had one wish granted, it would be that Bodie got to hold a healthy baby in her arms after everything she'd been through. That she got the chance to learn she wasn't a product of her upbringing, that she wouldn't become the people who hurt her. Bodie and Braun deserved the joy of being parents after the shitstorm they'd survived.
She closed her eyes, content to be swept away by the man she loved. He handled her so carefully, even as he juggled her to reach the truck keys. Christ, she wanted to wipe tonight clean. Remove the smudges her actions had smeared over the glossy surface of their dynamic.
Had she damaged them?
“No, sugar. We're not damaged. A little bruised, but bruises heal.” His voice was so warm and confident, she had no reason to believe he spoke anything but the truth. Her body pressed against the cold metal of the truck as he unlocked the door and opened it, then his arms were no longer cradling her. “This is just a hitch in the road.”
She blinked sleepily as the belt came around her, locking her into the seat. How many hitches did it take until the road became impassable? How many times could she test his patience, his kindness and compassion, before her insecurities became a landslide? They were in love, but love could turn sour. It could become toxic and poison everything within reach.
Thane's hand encompassed her cheek, bringing her face toward him. Tired eyes met hers, the amber dulled in the shadows. “Connie, stop fucking worrying. I'm going nowhere. Tonight is not going to plunge us into destruction—we're going to build on it, shore up the weaknesses it exposed, and make us stronger.” He bent and kissed her forehead, then closed the door.
Before she fell asleep again, she prayed he was right.
*
The bleating of his phone woke him at just after oh-seven hundred hours. Cursing up a blue streak, Thane grabbed it and silenced it before the obnoxious noise could disturb Connie. With bleary eyes, he studied the number on the screen, then decided he was too goddamn tired to answer anyone's call at stupid o'clock on a Sunday morning.
By the time he'd driven home, carted Connie from the truck into bed, and crawled in beside her, it had been after three. She'd stirred awake long enough to murmur, “I love you, Thane.” Those four little words had slathered balm over the ache in his heart that came from her wondering whether she'd damagedthem.
He scoffed at the notion. Hooking his arm around her waist, he eased her back against his chest and settled in for a few more hours' sleep. He'd already decided they wouldn't be attending the club tonight to play—they needed a night at home to reconnect and strengthen the thread of trust that had frayed when she ran—but he intended to visit Braun today to sort out the issue of Alicia.
Connie needed to make a choice as to whether she wanted the girl to come home, to live with them here. If she did, then they would go state their case to Braun and Bodie. At the end of the day, the choice was Alicia's as to where she spent her life. Maybe she'd choose the facility, maybe she wanted to come home to Connie. Might be she even wanted to live on her own with the assistance of a caretaker.
Regardless, Connie required closure.
His fingers found the cuff on her wrist, traced the connection between the padding and her flesh. Found her pulse beneath the thinnest section of skin. In sleep, her heart beat slowly, steadily. One day, he'd fuck her with his hand around her throat, the pads of his fingers digging into her soft throat to monitor the changes. From slow and strong to fast, thick, and frantic.
Bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts.
