He straightens, rolling his shoulders back before he turns to the door. It’s only then that I notice Rafe is there.
Rafe steps farther into the cottage, eyes flicking over me quickly. Relief flashes on his face when he sees I’m fine, then his gaze cuts to Nico with absolute disgust.
“Tie him up,” Lorenzo tells Rafe.
“With pleasure.”
Nico’s eyes widen. “Lorenzo—”
Lorenzo ignores him, already reaching his hand out to help me up, but before I stand, he wipes a tear from my face.
“You okay?” The question comes out rough, but I know he’s not angry with me. He’s angry at the situation.
I nod once, then shake my head, then nod again because my body can’t decide between honesty and survival.
He slides his arm around my back and lifts me like I weigh nothing. I clutch his shoulders, fingers digging into him as he starts toward the door.
I cling to Lorenzo tighter as the night air hits my wet cheeks. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
Lorenzo’s laugh rumbles under my cheek. “Oh, he’s going to die.”
“He is?”
He pauses, just for a second, his grip tightening. “He betrayed me. But worse . . . he betrayed you.”
“He thought he was protecting me.” The words taste wrong, but they’re true in the saddest way.
Lorenzo’s jaw flexes. “Doesn’t matter to me. My only job in life is now to keep you safe. And I will do anything to make sure that happens.”
Before I can say another word, he opens the back door of the car and settles me into the seat. Then he climbs in beside me.
He doesn’t let go.
Not once.
We wait for a few minutes. And I don’t know what happens inside that cottage, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. It’s not long before Rafe steps out of the door and heads to the car. Then he starts to drive.
My head rests on Lorenzo’s shoulder, and his hand stays on my thigh, anchoring me to reality. I press closer because the fear hasn’t left my bones yet, and his presence is the only thing making the world feel real.
By the time his estate appears, my body is exhausted, and my eyes burn.
Lorenzo lifts me again when we arrive, carrying me inside. He takes me upstairs.
To his room.
He sets me on the bed and crouches in front of me, hands on my knees.
His gaze searches my face. “From now on, you stay with me.”
I nod. “I’m not leaving you ever again.”
His throat works like he wants to say something else. But instead, he leans in and presses his forehead to mine for one brief second.
Then he pulls back, jaw hard. “Try to sleep,” he orders.
My fingers catch his sleeve. “Don’t go.”
His gaze drops to my hand. It looks like he’s waging a war within himself. Can whatever he needs to do wait? He must decide it can because he climbs into the bed beside me.
