Page 191 of Damsel in Disguise

When I do, I don’t see the feared Keinston man. Not the untouchable strategist. And certainly not the man everybody mistakes for a machine.

It’s just years and years of heartbreak in his eyes that never truly healed.

Suddenly, Adrian doesn’t look invincible anymore. He looks like an ordinary man who’s brought to his knees by the simplest thing in existence—love.

“You can push us away,” his gaze doesn’t waver when he grabs my shoulders. “You can lie. You can make terrible decisions.”

“Thanks,” I smile through the waves of emotions crashing through me.

“You will make terrible decisions,” the corner of his mouth lifts briefly,” then disappears again. “But none of that changes anything.”

Something fragile shifts inside me. Adrian rarely speaks like this. That’s what makes it matter.

His eyes remain locked on mine. “You‘re family. We are family.”

A lump forms in my throat.

“And no matter what happens, what awaits us,” he continues quietly, “I can never let you or Asher go.”

“Neither would I,” I smile genuinely at him.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Adrian returns a real smile. Looking at me like I’m still the same annoying little girl who’d follow him and Asher around everywhere.

That smile brings peace settle quietly inside my chest. Maybe because home isn’t a place but simply this.

These people.

These moments.

The certainty that no matter how far life drags us apart, we’ll always find our way back to each other.

Adrian reaches over and ruffles my hair again. “Time to sleep, kid.”

“Are you?”

“Sleep is for people without responsibilities.”

“And babysitting me is a responsibility?” I pout at him.

“A tragic one.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Goodnight to you too, mofo.”

He chuckles as I head toward my bedroom.

Halfway down the hallway, that uneasy feeling returns.

A storm is gathering somewhere beyond the horizon. I just can’t seem to pinpoint ‘somewhere’.

54. WARNING

alistair

Well, that was one hell of a first impression.

Unfortunately, I can’t afford to dwell on the banter. I’ve got far more pressing problems on my hands.

For starters, there’s exactly one missed call from a strange, unknown number. My numerical identity.