“Yeah,” I rasp.
His eyes flick to my throat and then the mug is being pressed into my hand. “Drink,” he orders. “It’ll help.”
I take a sip and he’s not wrong, the pleasant warmth helps soothe the ache there.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
Then sip again when his eyes flare with emotion.
He’s exhausted and guilty and worried.
I put the mug down and walk into his arms.
He doesn’t move, stays stiff as a statue until I murmur, “It’s okay.”
Then he shudders, his head dropping, his arms banding around me, holding me so freaking tightly I can barely breathe.
But that’s okay.
Because he needs this.
Same as I needed to shed all those tears last night.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, how the wounds we both carry could ever be healed.
I just know I need to hold him.
That we need to hold each other.
NINETEEN
BROOKS
“So I’m just supposedto sit around and donothing?”
Pascal leans back against the doorframe, eyes scanning the room in a way that tells me he’s seen and assessed everything but he’s still not letting his guard down.
Like a threat may come from any angle.
I appreciate that, I really do.
But seriously, what the fuck am I supposed to do?
“Listen to the man with security experience?”
I sigh.
“I’m not saying sit in your tower and wait around for us to rescue you both?—”
“You’re not?”
He’s just given me strict orders on the places I can go (this apartment, my office building, Jean-Michel and Jace’s houses), on the people I can speak to (work is fine under all normal capacities, the situation with Briar, no one, with the exception of Jace and Jean-Michel because they’ve been “briefed” too), even on the way I have to act outside the house.
Be myself.
Luckily, I’m mostly a bastard so that front won’t be hard to maintain.
Pascal rolls his eyes. “I get that what I’m asking isn’t easy, but we found monitoring at Briar’s apartment and on her car. We need to buy some time to investigate that. I also need to speak with her, see what she knows about these people. Having a source on the inside will be invaluable.”
