Page 165 of Forged in the Fire
“Then we’re in this together.” Grabbing her hand, I weaved our fingers together.
I was thankful for the support, even though I wasn’t quite sure what my intentions were other than proving to myself that I could walk out the door without crumbling.
I’d already spent two hours in the shower bawling.
No more of that.
Elena swung our entwined hands between us and sent an adorable grin my way. “So, you basically need an accomplice?”
She nailed it. Spot on.
“Is this a crime?” In innocence, I widened my eyes.
She arched a brow. “Have you met my brother?”
I let go of a shallow laugh. “Unfortunately, I have.”
“Unfortunately?” Both her brows lifted that time, like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar and had chocolate smeared all over my face.
Okay, fine, that kiss wasn’t terrible.
Not even close.
If I was being honest, it was wonderful and exhilarating and probably the best thing I’d ever felt.
Because it was raw and unbridled and not muffled by the voices that would forever haunt my mind.
I mean, they’d obviously been there. Lurking in the background and waiting around for the opportune time to gobble me up.
It’d been there with that instinct to freeze, the memories swarming me for a flash.
But they hadn’t owned me the way they normally did.
I huffed. “I guess he’s kind of growing on me.”
She laughed, then frowned, our pace slowing as she peered at me through the wisping darkness that held us in the cover of the trees. “I can’t believe someone got on the property today. That he…”
Grimness gripped her expression.
“I’m fine,” I promised her, probably a little too quickly.
I just couldn’t stand the direction her mind had clearly gone.
Tears blurred her eyes. “It was horrible, Brinley, when they had me. I didn’t think I’d ever get out. If something like that happened to you…”
Her throat tremored.
My spirit flailed in a way that made me want to weep.
Desperation had me squeezing her hand in a vise. “I’m so sorry, Elena. I’m so sorry.”
Memories threatened to rise up and wipe me out like a hundred-year flood.
She shook her head. “I can’t stand the idea of someone hurting you. I hate it, Brinley. I’m so sorry.”
I guess we both were thinking the same.
She swiped at a tear that got free. “And I know my brother is freaking out that someone got to you. That the asshole even got that close.”
