“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” I murmur.
“You’re apologizing to us?” Asher asks incredulously.
I nod. “I’m used to him being an asshole, but that doesn’t mean either of you should have to deal with it.”
“That’s not something you should be used to, sweetheart, and it’s not a burden you have to bear alone any longer.”
Tears well in my eyes at the sweet sentiment.
I’ve spent my whole life longing for a safe place, and somehow that’s what I’ve found in their arms.
How am I supposed to keep fighting this thing between us when it feels so fucking right?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ROWAN
Seeing Hannah cry at the best of times makes me murderous, but watching as she’s berated by her good-for-nothing family has me ready to throw all our carefully curated plans out the window, drive my ass over to the Malone estate, and put a bullet between his eyes.
How dare he speak to my girl like that?
I’d be fucking furious regardless, but the fact that Hannah wasn’t even surprised tells me this has happened before.
She sobs into Asher’s chest, and he manages to keep his touches gentle despite the same anger that beats in my chest staring back at me.
Jeffrey Malone has never given a fuck about anyone else’s happiness. Hell, I don’t think he’s ever cared about his own. He cares about one thing, and one thing alone.
Money.
Asher presses his eyes closed, forcing steadying breaths into his lungs as Hannah finds solace in his arms. Part of me is jealous, wanting to be the one to give her that, but the other part knows this is how it has to be for right now.
We’re still building trust between us, whereas Asher has had months to prove himself to her. Even if she’s mad that he liedto her, it’s more natural for her to lean on him, and that’s something I have to deal with.
My time will come.
“It’s okay, Little Doe,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re safe. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
His reassuring words only seem to make her cry harder, the emotions she’s been holding inside finally releasing.
As much as I hate to see her cry, she needs this. She needs to let everything go before we can build her back up again.
“What if he makes me marry someone like Trent?” She chokes on the words.
“That’s not going to happen,” Asher growls. “There are only two people on earth you’ll be walking toward in a white dress, and that fucking loser doesn’t make the cut.”
Her body tenses slightly, but when Asher holds her head in place, she allows her body to relax back into him.
“But you might not have a choice.Imight not have a choice.”
“You don’t have to shoulder this by yourself,” I murmur. I shift her hair over one of her shoulders and bury my face in the crook of her neck, reveling in her scent. We haven’t allowed her to shower yet, which means the evidence of our morning still clings to her skin.
“It’s not your problem,” she argues weakly.
“Your problems are our problem,” Asher tells her. “You just have to let us help, and we’ll move heaven and earth to give you the world.”
She sighs. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” I ask.
