Page 219 of Indulge
“Go sit on the couch, rockstar,” I order and head into the kitchen.
I grab the first-aid kit and go straight back to him and start cleaning the wound in silence.
He flinches as the antiseptic hits.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping, not playing nurse,” he mutters. “I’m meant to be looking after you, not the other way around."
“Too bad,” I whisper, pressing a fresh pad against his skin. “You don’t get to scare me half to death and then tell me to rest.”
He exhales slowly, eyes locked on mine. “I’m sorry about all of this. I’m sorry you were scared.”
That breaks me.
I look down at the cloth in my hand, at the streak of blood across it, and the tears come before I can stop them. “I wasn’t scared. I was fucking terrified.”
He starts to say my name, but I shake my head, words spilling out too fast to catch.
“When she pulled that trigger, I—I froze. I couldn’t move. I saw my dad again, Rowan. The gun. The blood. The sound.” My throat tightens. “And I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. Not for him. Not for you. Not for Reggie.”
He reaches for me, but I keep talking, my voice trembling.
“I thought I was past it. That I was strong enough to handle anything. But when you both were standing there, I realized—” I break off, pressing my hand over my heart. “You two are my home. And I can’t lose my home again.”
The confession rips out of me like something breaking free.
Rowan’s hand cups the back of my neck, drawing me closer until our foreheads touch. His voice is low, rough, wrecked.
“Hey. You didn’t lose us. We’re right here. You hear me?”
I nod, my tears falling onto his bare skin. He catches one with his thumb.
“You think either of us are ever gonna let you go after tonight?” he murmurs. “You’re stuck with us, precious. For good.”
A shaky laugh escapes me, somewhere between heartbreak and relief.
“Good,” I whisper. “Because I’m never letting you go either.”
He leans in, kissing me slowly, not hungry, not wild, just steady. Real. His blood on my hands, my tears on his lips. The kind of kiss that feels like a vow.
When it breaks, he presses his forehead against mine again.
“Bed,” he mutters. “Before I pass out and ruin your handiwork.”
I smile through the tears. “Deal. But I’m not sleeping unless you’re right there next to me.”
“Wasn’t planning on moving, baby.”
We might have made it home, but, right now, we’re still missing one-third of us.
But, we’re all safe. We’re all alive.
And the bitch is fucking dead.
110
REGGIE
It’s barely eight when I pull up outside Rowan’s. My shoulder aches like hell, but it’s nothing compared to the weight sitting in my chest.
