Page 33 of Rampage

three

Reid

Morning arrives with soft sunlight filtering through the blinds. I wake instantly, years of training making me alert the moment consciousness returns. Lily is still nestled against me, but we've shifted during the night. Her brown hair is spread across my chest, one leg thrown over mine, her hand resting on my stomach beneath my shirt, her palm warm against my skin.

The intimacy of our position, fully clothed but completely entangled, sends a rush of heat through me that I try to ignore. I need to get up, make calls, prepare for the meeting with Tiffany, but I'm reluctant to disturb her. She needs the rest, and the selfish part of me wants to stay exactly like this, with her wrapped around me.

I check my watch carefully, trying not to move my arm too much. 7:30 AM. The meeting isn't until ten, but I need to make some calls first. Gently, I begin to extricate myself from Lily's embrace, sliding my arm from beneath her head.

She stirs, her eyes fluttering open. Confusion clouds her expression momentarily before recognition dawns. "Morning," she mumbles, voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," I reply, unable to keep the smile from my face. "Sleep okay?"

She nods, stretching like a cat beside me, her body arching slightly. "Better than I have in… maybe ever." A blush spreads across her cheeks as she seems to realize our position, her leg still thrown over mine. "Sorry for, um, koala-ing you."

The phrase makes me laugh, breaking the tension. "I didn't mind."

She sits up, running a hand through her tousled hair. My t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone.

"What time is it?" she asks, stifling a yawn.

"Early. We don't need to be at the clubhouse until ten." I swing my legs over the side of the bed, giving her space. The floor is cold beneath my bare feet. "I'll make coffee while you shower, if you want."

Her eyes widen slightly. "I don't have any clothes here."

"Already handled," I tell her, standing and stretching. My back pops from sleeping in the same position too long. "My mother dropped off some things for you last night while you were asleep. They're in the bathroom."

"Your mother knows I spent the night?" Her voice rises slightly, cheeks flushing deeper.

I shrug, trying to look casual though I can feel heat creeping up my neck. "The club knows you're under protection. Makes sense you'd stay somewhere secure."

She seems to accept this, though the blush on her cheeks deepens. "Thank you. For everything."

I resist the urge to touch her, to brush my thumb across that blush. "Bathroom's the door on the left. Towels are under the sink."

The sound of the shower running creates a domestic backdrop that feels both foreign and right. I lean against the kitchen counter, coffee mug in hand, and allow myself to imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to have this every morning. To wake up with Lily beside me, to share coffee and conversation before starting our days.

The shower shuts off, and I hear movement in the bathroom. My mother's brought clothes, toiletries, even a hairbrush—everything Lily might need. It's a gesture that speaks volumes about how seriously the club is taking her protection.

I take a sip of coffee, the bitter liquid grounding me. Today we start fighting back. Today we begin dismantling Frank Dawson's life piece by piece until there's nothing left of the man who dared to hurt her.

The bathroom door opens, and Lily emerges in a cloud of steam, dressed in jeans and a simple green top that brings out the color of her eyes. Her hair is damp, hanging in loose waves around her shoulders. She looks younger, fresher, though I can still see the shadows of yesterday's ordeal in her eyes.

"Coffee?" I offer, holding out a mug I've already prepared the way I've seen her drink it at the diner—one sugar, splash of cream.

She takes it with a grateful smile, our fingers brushing during the exchange. The simple contact shouldn't affect me as much as it does, but my body doesn't seem to have gotten the memo.

"So, what happens now?" she asks, leaning against the counter opposite me. Steam rises from her mug, curling around her face. "At the meeting, I mean."

I set my own mug down, choosing my words carefully. "Tiffany, our lawyer, will go over the legal strategy. She's good—the best. She'll handle the false charges, make sure you don't have to worry about being arrested."

Lily nods, taking a sip of her coffee. "And then?"

"Then we start building a case against Frank." My voice hardens despite my effort to keep it neutral. "We find the other girls. We gather evidence. We make sure he never hurts anyone again."

Her eyes meet mine over the rim of her mug. "You make it sound so simple."

"The process isn't simple," I acknowledge. "But the objective is. He pays for what he did to you. All of you."

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