Page 60 of Royal Beast
But then I realize that without Kellan’s protection, we could end up even more vulnerable. Without him around, no one could protect us if someone decided to track us down. Being around him puts us at risk, but it also keeps anything more from happening.
Not to mention we’d be leaving Kellan behind in all this. No matter what, I can’t ignore the growing feelings I’ve been having. I wanted to fight hard to protect myself from him, from this. But Kellan managed to tear down my walls piece by piece, leaving pieces of himself behind in exchange. His mark on my heart is indelible now, and I don’t know where my resistance ended and the desire for more began.
My chest tightens at the thought and I shake my head, trying to push it away as I read the newest James Patterson book. But my head is weighed down by these thoughts I can’t escape.
Rose deserves better than this. She deserves a life free of fear and worry and always looking over her shoulder. Taking her away is the right thing, isn’t it? But how do I give that to her when my heart is so intrinsically wrapped up in Kellan now?
The thought of leaving him, of saying goodbye to the life I have with him, sets an ache inside me that I can’t quell.
We spend the rest of the afternoon at the library, looking at books and climbing on the foam blocks, but I’m restless and jittery the whole time, like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
When we return to the penthouse, I try to focus on something productive, hoping it will calm my restless energy. Rose settles on the floor with her books and blocks, and I move to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for dinner.
The rhythm of chopping vegetables and stirring sauces helps, if only a little. The penthouse feels too quiet, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. I keep glancing at the clock, wondering when Kellan will be home. Despite everything, I’m eager to see him, to feel like we’re on the same side again.
The sound of the front door opening makes my heart leap, and I quickly wipe my hands on a towel, turning to greet him. “Hey, you’re home.”
He doesn’t respond. His jacket is slung over one arm, and his tie is loose around his neck as he walks straight past me, heading for the living room. I hear the click of the remote as the TV turns on and the news anchor’s voice fills the room.
I follow him, confused by his silence. He’s sitting on the couch, his attention fixed on the screen. The headline scrolling across the bottom catches my eye.Lachlan Brannagan Sr. Responsible for Missing Wife?
My stomach tightens as the reporter outlines the details, and I glance at Kellan. His expression is stony, his jaw tight. “Kellan?” I ask carefully. “What’s going on?”
He exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s been a hell of a day, Darcy.”
I wait, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Is it about the Russians again?” I press.
He finally looks at me, his eyes dark with exhaustion. “Yeah. They came after us and we responded. This is their response to ours. Anatoly and his men are pissed. A few of them tried to retaliate today. They showed up at the office.”
My chest tightens at his words, and I step closer. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I handled it,” he says shortly, leaning back against the couch. “But that’s not the point.” His gaze sharpens, and his tone turns accusatory. “Where were you today? You weren’t here. The maid said you sent her away.”
I blink, startled by the sudden shift. “I took Rose to the park and the library. We spent the afternoon out.”
His eyes narrow, and he sits forward, his elbows on his knees. “I told you to stay here. It’s not safe, Darcy.”
His words light a spark of irritation, and I cross my arms. “You didn’t tell me anything. And I’m not going to keep Rose locked up like a prisoner. She deserves better than that.”
“You think I’m doing this for fun?” he snaps, his voice rising. “This isn’t about what you or Rose deserve. It’s about keeping you safe. Both of you.”
I bristle at his tone, my frustration bubbling over. “Maybe if you actually explained things instead of barking orders, I wouldn’t have to guess what’s going on.”
His glare deepens, but he doesn’t respond, turning back to the TV instead.
The silence between us feels like a chasm, and the weight of it presses down on me. He’s shutting me out again, retreating behind walls I can’t climb.
As I turn back to the kitchen to finish dinner, the guilt and frustration I’ve been carrying all day settle heavily on my shoulders. Maybe I was wrong to think we could make this work. Maybe running is the only way to protect Rose—and myself—from the storm that always seems to follow Kellan.
The thought twists painfully in my chest, but I can’t shake it. I wish there were an easy answer to this situation. I wish I knew what the right thing was to do. Do I stay with Kellan, let him continue protecting us but stay in a doomed marriage, or do I run and risk my child’s life without Kellan around as protection?
I’m just plating dinner when my phone buzzes on the counter. Frowning, I wipe my hands and glance at the screen. The number is unfamiliar.
“Hello?” I answer, a flicker of unease settling in.
“Is this Darcy Flynn?” The voice on the other end is calm but professional, and it immediately puts me on edge.
“Yes, this is her,” I answer, confused. No one has called me by my maiden name in months.
