The ride is quiet. Not awkward quiet. Just tired, heavy quiet. I lean against the window, watching the streetlights blur past, and every time the truck slows or stops, my heart jumps like it’s waiting for something bad to happen again. Rev notices because of course he does, and he reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh, not squeezing, not moving, just grounding.
“I got you,” he murmurs, like he knows exactly what my brain is doing.
When we pull into my driveway, I don’t even have the energy to unbuckle my seatbelt before he’s already moving.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Keys.”
I fumble them out of my purse, and he takes them from my shaking hand, then opens my door and lifts me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Rev, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” he says. “But I want to.”
I don’t argue. He carries me up the steps, unlocks the door, and once we’re inside, he locks it behind us, then checks the deadbolt and the chain like he’s building a fortress out of muscle and stubbornness. Only then does he carry me down the hall.
My house feels different right now. Too quiet. Too big. Like it doesn’t know what just happened to me. He takes me straight to my bedroom and sets me gently on the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna grab you something to sleep in,” he says. “Okay?”
I nod, too tired to do anything else. He goes to my dresser and hesitates for a second like he’s not sure he’s allowed, then opens the top drawer and grabs a soft t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice cracking on the words.
I make it to the bathroom on autopilot, peel off the clothes that still feel like they belong to earlier tonight, and stand under the shower until the water turns lukewarm and my hands stop shaking quite so badly. When I come back out, wrapped in my softest t-shirt and shorts, Rev is standing near the window, arms crossed, looking like he’s guarding the whole street by himself.
He turns when he hears me. “You okay?”
I shrug and try for a smile. “As okay as I can be.”
He nods and walks over, pulls the covers back, and waits until I crawl into bed before tucking them around me like I might shatter if he’s not careful.
There’s a pause where it feels like this is the part where he’s supposed to leave. Where he’s supposed to say goodnight and go sleep on the couch or in the truck or anywhere that isn’t next to me.
I can’t let that happen. My hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Please. Just… stay. Hold me.”
He freezes. I can see the war on his face. The part of him that wants to protect me, and the part that’s terrified of crossing some invisible line when I’m this vulnerable. He swallows. “Brooke, I don’t want you thinking…”
“I’m not,” I say quickly. “I just… I need you. I need to not be alone right now.”
His shoulders drop a fraction. “Give me a minute,” he says quietly. He disappears into the bathroom, and when he comes back out, he’s in nothing but boxer briefs. He climbs into bed carefully, like he’s afraid of jostling me, and pulls me into his chest, one arm wrapped around my back, the other resting over my shoulder.
The second I feel his body heat, the second I realize I’m safe enough to stop holding myself together…I lose it. Silent at first, just my shoulders shaking, my breath catching, and then it all spills out of me in these broken, ugly sobs I’ve been holding back for hours.
Rev doesn’t tell me to stop. He just holds me tighter and presses his cheek to my hair. “I’ve got you, Princess,” he murmurs. “I’m right here. You can fall apart. I won’t go anywhere.”
I cling to him like he’s the only solid thing left in the world, and for the first time since tonight started, I let myself break.
NINE
REV
Sleep doesn’t comeeasy with Brooke in my arms.
Not because I don’t want her here. Hell, it’s the opposite. Having her curled against my chest, breathing slow and warm, trusting me enough to fall apart and then fall asleep… that part feels right in a way I’m not prepared to deal with.
But my mind won’t shut the hell up.
Every time she shifts, every time she makes one of those soft, broken sounds in her sleep, my body tightens like I’m about to launch out of bed and start swinging. I keep expecting her to wake up panicked, to jerk away, to realize where she is and freak out. Every time she doesn’t, it hits me all over again that she chose this.
She chose me.
Not Bella. Not Switch. Not Blade. Me.
