Page 68 of Ronan

“Are you done?”

“Almost, almost… I just want to go on the record and say the creepy basement wasn’t necessary to take advantage of me. A nice touch, though, even if it’s a tad unorthodox. I might’ve gone with something less… murdery, and definitely less tetanus-y, but…” I flash him an exaggerated smile and a thumbs up. “A-plus for effort!”

“Noted.” Sarcastic amusement lines his tone as he rolls his eyes, pulling the door open with a harsh shriek ofmetal. He descends the stone steps as though we aren’t walking straight into a serial killer’s den, so I shrug, figuring he’ll handle it if there’s someone waiting for us at the bottom.

Canned goods in dusty glass jars sit on walls of built-in shelves, and I wrinkle my nose. “Listen, I should pretend to be more excited since this is a surprise, but several years ago, I had an unfortunate incident with self-canning. It is not an experience I’m looking to repeat.”

Ronan chuckles, shaking his head. “The jars aren’t what I wanted to show you.” Deeper in the cellar, where the light barely reaches us, he grabs a small wooden box from the shelf. “These are.”

He beams with such proud, sweet satisfaction that I can’t help my smile, flipping the tiny copper latch and lifting the lid. A beat of confused silence passes before I recognize what I’m holding. “Seeds?”

Hair bouncing with the enthusiasm of his nod, Ronan gestures towards the shelf laden with dozens of boxes. “The one in your hand is tomatoes, but there are enough here to plant an amazing garden when we find our home.”

Our home.

It’s not like I didn’t realize that Ronan was including me in his plans. Hell, he sacrificed the only life he’d ever known to keep me safe. But this is the first time I’ve truly let myself believe.

That he isn’t leaving me.

That he’s here to stay.

That despite everything I’ve done wrong, and all the awful things I’ve said, he believes I’m worth the risk.

Not a mistake, or a regret… but a future. Achoice.

“Are there any potatoes?” My voice is reedy and unstable, barely forming the words, and I feel Ronan’s eyes as they land on me. Lip wobbling and hands fidgeting, I stare at the white specks at the bottom of the box. “Because you know how much I love potatoes.”

“I know you do.” Carefully, he plucks the seeds from my grip and sits them on the counter before wrapping me in his arms. His fingers thread through my hair, and I nuzzle into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent.

A lifetime of fearing my jagged, broken edges would never fit, and he carves a space for me. He makes it look so fucking effortless as he creates a place for me to belong.

“I could have them every day for the rest of forever, and I’d be happy.”

“You don’t think you’ll get sick of their temper?” he asks, and I let out a watery laugh at the ridiculousness of our conversation. “Or decide you’d rather have corn someday?”

“This is a weird way to discuss feelings.”

His grin is wide as he buries his face in my hair, peppering my head with gentle kisses. “And here I thought we were talking about potatoes. I guess I have some catching up to do.”

“You mean to tell me you didn’t make the connection between root vegetables and our relationship?” I tease, and he laughs, a deep, throaty sound as he sweeps me into a long, sweet kiss. “And here I thought I was being so obvious. Don’t worry, love. I’ll need those amazing muscles of yours for both. When we dig this imaginary garden, I’ll sit back and sip on cold water while you swing a hoe with your shirt off.”

“You only want me for my body, don’t you?”

“And your potatoes.” He laughs again, releasing me as he double checks the seeds are safely on the shelves. Faint sunlight guides our steps as I climb from the cellar, walking to the edge of the building to get out of the shadows. My face points towards the sun, enjoying its warmth on my cheeks.

A deep breath fills my lungs, a smile playing on my lips.

The sudden, earth-shaking bellow from Ronan rips through the quiet, making my hair stand on end as it rings in my ears. Nothing makes sense as I spin towards him—not the twisted agony on his face, or the way he stumbles forward, his outstretched hand reaching for me.

A flash of movement and a sharp metallic whir are followed by a sickening crack against his skull. Ronan’s eyes go fuzzy as his knees slam to the ground, revealing a man standing behind him.

“He won’t be unconscious for long,” the man shouts, eyes crazed. “Quick,run!”

I’m not even sure my feet touch the ground as I sprint towards Ronan, a horrified wail leaving my lips. Still reaching for me, he collapses face-first, his body hitting the earth with a dull thud. Crimson trickles down his shirt from the knife handle jutting out of his shoulder.

“Ronan! No, no, fuck, fuck,fuck!” My gaze is wild as it snaps up to the man, who stares back with wide, confused eyes that are full of questions. “What the fuck?! What have you done?!” I roar, yanking my shirt over my head as I crash to my knees beside Ronan.

The cloth bunches in my hands as I wrench the knife free, pressing the fabric hard against the gushing wound. Blood from my fingers streaks his skin as I lean in,patting his cheek. “Wake up… wake up, you gotta wake up. Come on, you have to wake up, Ro. Open your eyes for me.” Heart galloping in my throat, I grab his shoulder and jostle him harder, but he’s eerily still. “Come on,please?” I whisper, fighting the fear that’s swarming in my belly.

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