Page 42 of Ruin Me
We lost something tonight, some piece of the authority we used to hold over Crestmont. We’ll get it back, but at what cost?
As I pull up outside her building, it’s like we all breathe for the first time since we busted through the doors of that club. We’ve done more than save her; we’ve sworn an oath, not in words, but in spilt blood and shattered bone.
We get out, and I’m the first to reach the building’s door, pulling it open. Thayer and Harry are right behind me, forming a shield around Quen, who hasVogue in his arms. Her breath hitches, and she clings to him.
Her flat door has since been fixed and swings open easily. Quen lays her down on her couch, her sanctuary. This place is small, simple, but it’s hers. A part of her life untouched by the chaos we bring.
Closing the door quietly, I lock it, sliding the new bolts across it. “You can stay here in your own place, but we are not leaving you alone. We will sleep in shifts and do whatever is necessary to ensure that thisneverhappens again.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, either not having the strength to protest, or just happy with my orders.
We settle around her, battered and bruised, but unbroken. I can feel it—the shift in the room, in us. The night’s horror has forged something new, a determination as sharp as the blade I carry.
“I need to shower,” she states suddenly.
“I’ll help you,” Quen says immediately.
He is the one who has been with her; he is the one that she feels closest to, so we let them go, but none of us take our eyes off the door to the small bathroom. We will never take our eyes off her again.
24
VOGUE
Proppedup with a mountain of pillows behind me, I watch Callum pace the length of my tiny living room for what feels like the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours. The air is thick with tension and of too many bodies in a confined space. Quen leans against the wall, his eyes scanning everything but settling on nothing, while Harry and Thayer have made themselves at home on the couch, flipping through channels they’re not really watching on the old TV.
“Okay, this is ridiculous,” Callum blurts out, stopping mid-stride to look at me.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, rubbing my temples. “Feels like we’re all stuffed in here like sardines.”
“Exactly, which is why...” He hesitates, exchanging a glance with Quen.
“Why what?” My patience is running thin, and my nerves are frayed from the constant lack of personalspace since my rescue. They haven’t left my side, and their protective presence is both a comfort and a curse. I’ve barely been able to take a pee without one of them hovering.
“Move in with us.” The words hang in the cramped apartment, heavy with implications.
“Into your place?” I raise an eyebrow, sceptical. “And how’s that going to be any different?”
“More space,” Quen says, getting on board fast, as if this was planned all along, pushing off the wall. “There are five bedrooms in the penthouse. You’ll have your own room, privacy when you need it, and all the security you need to stay safe.”
“Secured and swanky,” Harry pipes up from the couch, his lips twisting into an easy grin.
“Great,” I sigh, the word laced with a sarcasm that doesn’t quite mask the relief seeping in. “From stifling claustrophobia to luxury lockdown.”
“Vogue, it makes sense,” Thayer says, his voice softer than the others, which is weird in and of itself. “You know we can’t leave you alone?—“
“I know, I know.” I cut him off before he can finish that sentence, the memory still raw enough to sting like the cut on my neck and the welts around my wrists. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
“Really?” There’s a collective release of breath, four sets of shoulders dropping in unison.
“Really. But just so we’re clear, this isn’t permanent. Just until things calm down.”
“Understood,” Callum nods, though his eyes tell adifferent story. One that promises they won’t let me out of their sight ever again.
“Then it’s settled.” Quen’s smile is almost invisible, but it’s there, a silent acknowledgement of a new chapter beginning.
“Settled,” I echo, already getting up to pack. It’s not like I have much to begin with—just the essentials I’ve dragged with me from Westfield to here.
As the guys mill around, getting in my way, I drag my suitcase out and start to pull my clothes from the drawers. It’s been a week since I unpacked, and now here I am, preparing to move again.
