The warehouse is silent except for the soft crackle of fire and the smell of gasoline and fire.
I step outside into the cold night air, the smell of petrol and scorched meat still clinging to my suit. Autumn and Viviana are perched on a rusted steel bench under the floodlight. Autumn’s staring at the ground like it owes her answers.
My heart stalls.
“Autumn.” My voice comes out rougher than I want. “Look at me.”
She shakes her head, small, stubborn.
“Trouble—”
“I couldn’t stay,” she whispers, finally lifting her face. Tears shimmer but don’t fall. “I couldn’t watch it to the end.”
Relief and guilt slam into me at once. I drop to one knee in front of her, thumb brushing her chin, tilting it up.
“You never had to—”
“But I wanted to,” she cuts in, trembling. She bites that plump bottom lip, eyes searching mine. “I want every part of you, Flynn. Even the parts that scare me.”
I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for years.
“This?” I jerk my thumb toward the warehouse. “I’d burn the whole fucking thing down tomorrow if it meant keeping you. I don’t need you in there. I’ve got Declan, Kaden, the lads for that.” I smirk, soft. “I need you in my bed, in my life, in my arms. You’re my wife. My partner. My everything.”
Her eyes soften, sad and shining. “But it’s your world. Your legacy.”
“No, baby.” I cup her face with both hands now, thumbs wiping the tears that finally spill. “You are my world. You are my legacy. The rest is just noise.”
I lean in and kiss her, slow, deep, tasting salt and home.
“Oh my God, did you hear that, Dec?” Viviana’s voice slices through the moment.
I forgot she existed. Apparently Declan’s standing right behind her now.
“Let’s give them space, firecracker,” he says, scooping Viviana up so fast she squeaks and flies into his arms like a ragdoll.
She laughs, bright and wicked. “I need to fu—”
“Nope. Not again.” I haul Autumn to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’re leaving before these animals start humping a tree.”
We turn to go; Autumn’s chuckle warm against my ribs.
“That’s your thing, mate!” Declan hollers after us. “The forest-chasing shit!”
I grin over my shoulder, because he’s not wrong.
Autumn slips her arms around mine, pressing close. “Take me home, Mr Brady.”
It’s past two a.m. when she steps out of the bathroom, skin still damp, towel knotted loosely around her perfect tits. I’m waiting, shirtless, low lightcarving shadows over every cut of muscle. A folded towel and the bottle of lube sit on the duvet like a promise.
She freezes in the doorway, eyes flaring wide.
“I’m done waiting, trouble.” One step forward. She takes one back, instinctive, prey-sweet.
“You’re not cleared,” she says, palms up like that’ll stop me. “Doctor said—”
“I don’t give a fuck what the doctor said.” I close the distance in two strides, bandaged side be damned, and haul her up by the waist. She squeaks as I flip her over my shoulder, the towel slipping, her bare ass in my grip.
I throw her down on the mattress. The towel falls open like curtains. Christ. I nearly growl at the sight of her.
