Page 33 of Reins

Rosalyn doesn’t have anyone.

Me?

I’m it.

“No,” she whimpers. “I hate them.”

“I’m making you a promise, right now, okay? I ain’t quitting you, got it? When you’re ready to move on, become the person you’ve always wanted to be, I’ll be your biggest fan and cheer your success. But I won’t be the one to walk away. I will protect you. You have my word.” My teeth grit at the thought of either of her asshole brothers coming anywhere near her.

They’ve tortured her and she’s never had anyone stand up for her.

Blonde hair strays from her loose ponytail, framing her cheeks when she finally raises her red-rimmed eyes to look at me. Her sapphire irises nearly glow with the contrast when she stares at me.

But the tight edges betray her doubts. “Why? I’m nobody.”

A couple of weeks ago, I’d have said it was just because of Ava. Or to get evidence.

There’s more than that now. Rosalyn has a grit that keeps her showing up. She’s braided steel wrapped in a beautiful package.

“You’re stronger than you think you are. You’re special and you don’t even realize it.” I let one cheek rise in a crooked smile. “Not many people would keep hold of that rope with a bucking horse flashing hooves above their head like that. It takes a set of balls most men would be envious of.”

She snorts, but offers her own tilt of her full lips. “Special kind of stupid, as my dad would say.”

This time it’s my turn to scoff. “If your dad had done the opposite of every choice he made, he might have been an alright guy. Instead? He was a fucking prick.”

Her mouth drops into a circle. “I didn’t know anyone else saw that.”

“Ros—” I sit up, stretching my leg out. “—everyone did.” Shaking my head, I pick up my beer for another drink. “He had a reputation for being a belligerent shitbag.” I peer at her through one squinted eye as I swallow. “You’re a helluva survivor to outlast him.”

She visibly quakes with a shiver running through her. “Mom was worse.”

My gut boils with a wave of nausea remembering the scars that Ava had shown me. The torture she went through probably pales to what Rosalyn had to suffer after Ava was gone.

Best thing that ever happened to the world was those two Baileys being removed from it. It’s little wonder that John and Eli ended up just like them.

“Good riddance,” I mutter, finishing the last of my beer.

“I think that’s the happiest I remember ever seeing my brothers. They both drank and partied for a week.” She frowns, staring at the red stone on her finger. “I locked myself in my room. They kept throwing stuff, breaking things.” Her palms slip up to cover her ears as if she’s hearing them again.

My teeth grit. I’m not sure how to pull her out of this. Pushing myself up, I drop my empty bottle into the garbage, then grab a couple of cans of stew from the shelf. “Hungry?” Maybe a diversion would help?

With a sniffle she nods and glances up before she scrambles to her feet. “I can get it.”

“No, ma’am,” I grunt and deepen my voice. “Go sit, that’s an order.”

Soundlessly, she pushes to her feet and slides into the chair next to mine. She sits silently while I start warming the soup on the stove. It isn’t until she’s frowning at her knotted fingers that she speaks again. “I’m not used to this.”

“What? Having someone else take care of you?” Slowly pouring the hot blend into two bowls, I carry hers with a packet of crackers to the table. “Everyone deserves it sometimes.”

I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me, yet this is pretty satisfying. Seeing her actually accepting my gesture makes me hope that she might just be able to relax eventually.

It’d be better than her cowering or flinching.

I still hate that she had that reaction with me. If I do anything, I want her to learn she can trust me.

After setting my own food down, I reach in the fridge for another beer. “Want a bottle of water? Or a Dr. Pepper?”

Her blue eyes flicker up to fixate on the can, then down. “Um, water, please?”