Page 52 of The Fighter who Needed Me
They were all sleepy, and not paying attention to any of their surroundings.
Which she was grateful for. And before she knew it, they were free from the gardens and Burk had placed her in the carriage that was waiting there.
He climbed in and she was surrounded with arms hugging her.
Lily. Persephone sagged against her friend and hugged her back, fiercely.
She was crying now that she was free, and Lily held her tightly.
“It’s all right. I promise Persephone. It is all right. You are safe now.”
She looked over at Burk, “Where is Brooks?”
Burk gave a small shrug. “He has been drinking himself into a stupor for the last few days and I finally made him stop. He thought you were lost to him and did not remember me telling him that you were back in London. He is back at the salon tonight though and is trying to channel his anger again into fighting. We will leave you both alone tonight.”
She felt the blush steal over her cheeks and Burk laughed, “I know how desperately he has missed you. Lily and I don’t wish to hear Brooks when he claims you.”
Lily laughed, “He has had to hear us often enough, but we wanted to give you privacy.”
Persephone leaned forward and hugged Burk and then hugged Lily again.
“Thank you. For saving me. For saving him,”
Lily kissed her cheek softly, “You are as much my sister as my own sisters are. You are family now. We love you.”
Burk squeezed her hand, “You are welcome. Just love my brother. That is all I ask of you. He needs you.”
She nodded and they pulled up in front of the salon. Persephone took a deep breath and Burk raised his eyebrow, “Are you all right to walk in there by yourself?”
She nodded, “I am just fine. Because I get to see him. I will crawl if I have to.”
Burk chuckled and pulled Lily across the carriage and into his lap. “Be careful. We shall see you in the morning.”
She nodded and the door opened. The footman helped her down and she walked carefully to the door, her hands and legs shaking.
She was about to see the man who had stolen her heart and who she had missed longer than she liked.
She wanted to be claimed by him repeatedly.
Opening the door to the salon, she took a deep breath and walked to the sound of someone hitting a bag over and over again.
When she saw him, he took her breath away. He was shirtless, covered in a light sheen of sweat, in just breeches and was barefoot. He was striking the bag with endless determination and it made her body heat.
How she had missed this man. She felt her eyes go hot with unshed tears seeing his broad back and seeing him alive and healthy.
He had a few new still healing scars, and a few bruises darkening his ribs, but he was hale and hearty.
She sucked in a breath when she noticed that he seemed to have gained more muscle, which seemed impossible, but he had.
He heard her small breath and stopped hitting the bag, “Lily? Are you all right?”
He turned and locked eyes with her and his body went still, as if someone had struck him with something.
He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his feet and shook his head, “You are just seeing things.” She heard him whisper and her heart broke a little more for him.
“Brooks, it’s me.” His head snapped up and he took one step toward her, and then stopped as if he could go no further. She walked toward him, “It’s me. Oh, Brooks.”
He snapped and rushed forward, picking her up and twirling her around, kissing her over and over.
