Page 86 of Rampage

Gentle hands guide me to a couch. Meadow appears before me, her face pale but composed as she begins examining the bruises forming on my throat.

"I fought back," I tell her, needing someone to understand. "I wasn't passive this time."

Meadow's eyes soften with pride and understanding. "Of course you did. You're one of us now."

One of us. The words settle something inside me, even as another shudder racks my frame. Reid hasn't left my side, his blood-covered hand clutching mine like a lifeline.

"We need to clean you both up," Lane's wife says firmly, appearing with warm towel.

"You both look like you've been through hell," Grace adds, her voice firm but gentle as she examines the bruises forming around my neck. Her fingers probe, checking for damage, while her eyes dart between Reid and me. "Reid, that arm needs proper attention, and Lily needs to be checked for concussion."

Reid's jaw tightens. "I'm fine. Take care of Lily first."

"I'll take care of you both," Grace insists, her tone brooking no argument. "Upstairs, now. The blue bedroom has a private bath. You need to wash off all this… evidence."

She helps me to my feet while Mason supports Reid, whose adrenaline seems to be fading as exhaustion takes its place. We make our way up the clubhouse stairs, every step an effort as my muscles protest the abuse they've endured.

The blue bedroom is spacious and surprisingly homey, clearly designed as a safe haven rather than just a place to crash. Grace ushers us toward the adjoining bathroom, turning on the shower until steam fills the air.

"Clean clothes will be outside the door when you're done," she says, her eyes softening as she takes in my trembling form. "Take your time. No one will disturb you."

When the door closes behind her, Reid and I stand facing each other, both covered in blood and flour and evidence of violence. His hands, gentle despite their rawness, begin to undress me with careful movements.

"Let me take care of you," he murmurs, easing my ruined shirt over my head. His face hardens at the sight of the bruises blooming across my skin, but his touch remains featherlight as he helps me step out of my jeans.

In the shower, warm water cascades over us both, turning pink as it swirls down the drain. Reid positions me directly under the spray, shielding me with his body as he reaches for the soap. Despite his injured arm, he insists on washing me himself, his movements methodical and tender.

"Close your eyes," he instructs softly, working the shampoo through my hair with his good hand. His fingers massage my scalp with hypnotic gentleness, drawing a sigh from deep in my chest as the tension begins to melt away.

He takes his time, washing every inch of me with reverent care, my shoulders, my back, the curve of my waist. When he kneels to wash my legs, his eyes never leave mine, silently reassuring me of my safety.

"You fought them," he says, his voice thick with emotion as he rises to his feet. "You protected yourself."

"I wasn't going to be a victim again," I whisper, reaching to touch his face. "Not after everything you've taught me about being strong."

Something shifts in his expression, pride mingled with fierce devotion. He pulls me against him, our wet bodies pressing together under the cascade of water. For several heartbeats, we hold each other, drawing strength from each other's presence. His heartbeat, steady and strong against my cheek, gradually slows mine to match its rhythm.

"I almost lost you today," Reid whispers against my wet hair, his voice suddenly raw with emotion. His arms tighten around me, almost painfully. "When I heard your scream, when I saw that man's hands on you…"

His body begins to tremble, and I realize with a shock that he's fighting tears. I pull back slightly to look up at him, stunned by the naked vulnerability in his expression.

"Lily," he says, his voice breaking on my name. "I'm completely consumed by you. It terrifies me how much I need you, how fucking obsessed I am with every breath you take." His hands frame my face with desperate intensity. "I love you so goddamn much it feels like I'm being torn apart from the inside. When I thought they might take you from me?—"

He chokes on the words, pressing his forehead to mine as water streams down our faces. "I would have killed them all. I would burn this whole town to the ground if it meant keeping you safe." His voice drops to a harsh whisper. "Do you understand what you do to me? How completely you own me?"

The raw confession steals my breath. This isn't just love; this is something primal, something fierce that matches the intensity building in my own chest since the moment he came into my life.

"I love you too," I whisper, the words inadequate for the storm raging inside me. "Since that first night at the diner. Since before I even knew what love could be."

Reid makes a sound like he's been wounded, capturing my mouth in a kiss that's equal parts tenderness and desperation. His hands slide into my wet hair, cradling my head as if I'm something infinitely precious.

"I will never let anyone hurt you again," he vows against my lips. "Never."

I believe him completely. This man, who fought like a demon to protect me, who tends to me now with such gentle care—he would move mountains for me, face armies, defy death itself.

"I know," I murmur, pressing closer despite the ache in my bruised body. "And I'll fight for you too. For us."

Something shifts in his expression, wonder mingled with fierce pride. He kisses me again, deeper this time, his mouth claiming mine with possessive hunger.

---