Brooke isn’t just Bella and Bri’s sister. She’s ours. Family in every way that matters, and the fact that someone got close enough to hurt her tonight hits every single one of us right in the gut.
I drag a hand down my face, trying to steady myself, and that’s when it really hits me how close this came to being so much worse. One bad choice. One more minute alone with him. One moment where she couldn’t get away.
I could have lost her tonight. The thought slams into my chest so hard it almost knocks the breath out of me all over again. And right there, in the middle of all that rage and relief and leftover adrenaline, something inside me finally snaps into focus. I’ve been fighting this. Fighting how I feel about her. Telling myself she’s too good for me, too polished, too put-together for a guy like me. Telling myself I don’t fit in her world, that I’d only drag her down into mine.
But the man who was supposed to be “right” for her? The one with the money and the suit and the perfect image? He was nothing but a monster who thought he was entitled to her body because he paid for dinner.
I’m done letting that kind of man define what she deserves. I might not be what she thought she wanted. I might not look like the kind of guy who fits in her carefully built life. But I would burn the whole damn world down before I let anyone hurt her again.
I’ve spent too long keeping my distance, pretending I don’t feel this, pretending I can just be her friend, her protector, her brother-in-laws’ best friend who doesn’t cross lines. I’m done pretending.
I won’t push her. I won’t corner her when she’s already been through hell tonight. I won’t turn this into something she didn’t choose. But if she feels even half of what I feel for her, then I’m not backing away anymore. I’m stepping in. And that starts tonight.
As soon as my breathing finally slows and my hands steady enough that I trust myself to speak without losing it again, I look at Mason. “What now?” I ask, my voice rough but clear.
He studies me for a second, eyes sharp, like he’s checking for cracks, for the moment where the adrenaline drops and the weight hits. “You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, and for the first time since this whole nightmare started, I actually mean it. “Yeah,” I say. “I am now.” Because the chaos is over and she’s safe. I finally know exactly what I’m not running from anymore.
EIGHT
BROOKE
We’reall huddled in Bella’s living room like that’s somehow going to keep the bad thoughts from crawling in.
The TV is on, some show playing in the background, people arguing about something that doesn’t matter, canned laughter cutting through the room at all the wrong moments. None of us are watching it. Not really. It’s just noise, something to keep the silence from getting too loud, because if it does, I think we might all lose it.
Bella’s on one end of the couch with Jax asleep against her chest, her hand moving over his back in slow, steady strokes like she’s grounding herself as much as she’s soothing him. Bri’s curled up next to me, shoulder pressed into my side, and Ansley’s sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, legs crossed, phone in her hand like she’s pretending to scroll but not really seeing anything.
Ghost and Razor are outside keeping us safe. I can feel it in the way the house doesn’t feel empty, even with the guys gone. I know no one’s getting near us tonight.
And still, my chest won’t stop feeling tight.
I’m not scared of him coming back. Not really. Not with the Iron Reapers being who they are, not after the look I saw on Rev’s face when he carried me in here, not with the way Blade and Switch left this house like they were heading into war.
If anything, I’m scared of the opposite. I’m scared of what they’re doing right now. More than that, I’m scared of what Rev is doing right now. Because I know him. I know that look. I know the way his jaw tightens and his eyes go dark when something flips that switch in him, and tonight… tonight I flipped that switch without meaning to, and now he’s out there dealing with something I wish I could pretend wasn’t happening in my name.
My stomach twists and I shift on the couch, tugging Bella’s blanket tighter around my shoulders even though I’m not cold anymore.
Tonight has been such a mind fuck.
One minute I was standing in my bedroom, fixing my hair and telling myself this was the start of something good, that maybe this was finally my turn to have a real relationship, a real future, something that wasn’t just work and responsibility and taking care of everyone else.
And now I’m sitting here with a bruise on my face, my shoes somewhere in the woods, and the man who scared me is probably praying for his life while the man who makes me feel safe is doing God knows what.
My brain won’t shut up. It keeps replaying everything. The restaurant. The way Grant smiled at me. The way I thought that confident, dominant edge meant something good, somethinglike the men in the books I read, the kind who protect and cherish and take charge because they care.
God, I feel so stupid. I scrub my hands over my face and immediately regret it when my cheek throbs.
“Easy, Brookie,” Bri murmurs, shifting closer and gently catching my wrist. “You’re gonna make it worse.”
“Sorry,” I whisper automatically, and then I hate myself for saying it again. I lean back against the couch, staring at the ceiling while the TV keeps chattering about nothing, and my thoughts drift right back to the moment everything truly went sideways.
Not dinner or in the car when Grant came at me. Not even the running and hiding and shaking so hard I thought my teeth would break. But the call. Why did I call Rev? That question has been looping in my head for the last twenty minutes like it’s stuck on repeat.
I could have called Bella. She would’ve been there in a heartbeat. I could have called Switch, or Blade, or Mason, and any one of them would’ve dropped everything and gotten to me as fast as humanly possible. I knew that. I’ve always known that. So why didn’t I? Why, out of everyone in my life, did my fingers hit Rev’s name without hesitation?
We’re close. We’ve always been close in that easy, comfortable way. The way you can sit next to someone and not feel awkward. The way he always makes sure I eat at club events, or checks if I got home okay, or gives me that look when my heels are too high and the floor’s too slick.
