Page 60 of Beautiful Ruins
My body still hurt.My head still throbbed.But for the first time since the door slammed open in my apartment, I didn’t feel like I was bracing for more violence.
I felt held.Not by his arms.By his presence.
And that scared me almost as much as the men who’d come looking for Nathan.
Because this time, the danger wasn’t outside the door.It was the small, fragile hope forming in my chest.And I wasn’t sure I knew how to survive that either.
19
Raze
Iwoke to warmth.
Not the sharp, alert kind I was used to—no adrenaline spike, no instinctive reach for a weapon.Just warmth.Soft and steady.
It took a second to remember where I was.
Izzy’s room.Her bed.Her.
She was pressed into me, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, breathing slow and even.The bruising along her jaw had darkened overnight, turning deep violet against her skin.The cut on her lip was less angry, but still visible.Evidence.
My chest tightened.
I lay still, watching her for longer than I should have.Studying the way her lashes rested against her cheeks.The faint crease between her brows even in sleep, like her body hadn’t fully accepted safety yet.
A strand of dark hair had fallen across her face.
Without thinking, I reached out and tucked it gently behind her ear.
She shuddered at my touch—not away, but toward me.Her body instinctively settled closer, pressing into my side like she belonged there.A small, contented breath left her, and a faint smile tugged at her lips, still asleep.
Something in my chest moved.It wasn’t soft.It wasn’t gentle.It was fierce.
The urge to protect her.To keep her.To make sure no one ever laid a hand on her again.
It wasn’t noble.It wasn’t selfless.It was possessive.
I’d grown used to her presence in this house.The way she filled space with noise and argument and stubborn honesty.The way she looked at me like I was human instead of the monster the world knew me as.
And now that she’d been hurt, something in me had changed permanently.
Anyone who came near her would answer to me.
I let my hand fall away slowly, careful not to wake her.She needed sleep more than she needed me hovering.
I slipped out of the bed with practiced silence, moving slowly so the mattress wouldn’t dip.She didn’t stir.
For a moment, I stood there watching her.Then I forced myself to leave.
The shower was scalding.
I stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting the heat loosen the tension that had settled into my shoulders overnight.My mind didn’t quiet.It just rearranged its priorities.
Names.Addresses.Russians.
Nathan.
And Izzy.
