Zach glares at me, more offended by my tone than he was at the dead body on the floor. “Sorry,” he finally mumbles, and I’m taken aback. He’s never apologised for a single thing in his life.
Shock makes my aggression dissipate. “Me, too. I’m a bit on edge.”
“No shit,” Stefan says, walking into the room. “A few guys are coming to take care of things. No need for any of you to stay.” He aims a pointed glance at Caylon who doesn’t appear to take any notice.
We obediently file through to the dining room, Zach heading straight out the door while Caylon lingers, head tilted as he stares at Rosa. “I thought we were all on the same page about keeping everything normal until we’d tracked down the creep.”
Rosa coughs, then shakes her head when Caylon sends his fiery glance her way. “This is normal,” she says in a small voice, putting a hand to her throat when he focuses on her bruises. “This is my workplace. I’m here three weekdays and for a few hours every weekend. Sorry if it doesn’t meet your standards.”
To his credit, Caylon frowns, eyes unfocused, then nods. “Point taken. Now I’ve got his phone and ID, it’ll be quick work to track down your dead guy.”
“What for?” she asks dully. “As you just pointed out, he’s dead.”
“To find out what we can about him,” I tell her, pulling her to her feet and slipping my arm around her waist. “And we’re looking for your uncle now, right?”
Caylon looks vaguely surprised. “We are?”
“Yeah. He’s the head of the snake, so the jobs not done until we’ve tracked him down and dealt with him.” I twist Rosa back towards me. “That’s my end of the bargain, right?”
She appears relieved and my heart is so full at this moment that I never want it to end. “Right,” she whispers.
“Good. And now we need to go collect Finley and move you two into my home.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
ROSA
“Oh, my god,”Finley squeals for the eighth time in a row as she walks into the bedroom Trent says she can use.
This time I have to agree with her enthusiasm. The bedroom is beautiful. Something a princess would conjure up in her daydreams.
“Look, there’s a bed big enough for both of usandall our friends.” She immediately toes off her shoes to clamber up and bounce on it like a trampoline. “This is so awesome.” She stops long enough to flutter the pink canopy, then starts jumping again. “Why aren’t you joining me?”
“This is just your bedroom,” Trent clarifies with an amused grin before turning to me. “Say goodbye to your friend and I’ll drag you farther into the depths of the house and show you yours.”
“We could share.” I rub my stomach, the whole day swimming in and out of focus with every intake of breath. There’s a small spatter of blood on the back of my hand and I zoom in on it. If I squint at it right, it looks like glitter. A tiny speck of a reminder that a man got killed.
And that he fucking deserved it.
Good riddance, but that doesn’t stop me feeling nauseous to my very bones.
“You’re sharing with me,” Trent whispers against my neck, giving me a friendly shake, his strong arms turning my resolve into mist.
Whatever emotions I held for him this morning, they’ve become a thousand times deeper, more complicated, more rewarding. I need time to untangle them, to pull them apart and try to gain perspective on what’s happened, what could happen next.
It’s hard to reconcile this gentle teasing giant with the man who tore apart my would-be assailant.
He could just as easily do that to you.
A shiver takes hold and despite the direction of my thoughts, it’s not entirely unpleasant. I let them linger, thinking of the moment when he pulled the plastic tight around my neck. When all the worst things he’d warned me about himself could have come to fruition. He could have torn me apart, made me scream with pain… and instead I screamed with pleasure. I clasp my hands on top of his, holding them tighter against me, my trust in him increasing with each passing second.
I’m privileged to see both sides of him, the terrifying monster, and the gentle giant. One a vicious protector, the other becoming my best, my truest friend. Neither of his personalities causing me harm.
“Move along,” Finley says, doing a bottom drop before lying back on the bed. “Go show Rosa where you’re keeping her, then you can take us on a tour of the rest of the house.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice and I’m soon entering his bedroom, suffused with his essence so much I can’t help but smile as I walk inside.
It’s not just the scent of his deodorant and aftershave, or the assortment of sporting team jerseys displayed, behind glass, on his walls.
