Brooke

I wake up feeling strange, as if I’m totally comfortable here, in this place I barely recognize. As if I’ve become someone else in the span of two hours. My cells rearranging themselves into someone who belongs in this cabin, naked and warm. A dim light streams in from the next room, keeping the darkness at bay.

There’s an ache between my thighs, a musk in the air. A thousand reminders of Stone, as if I could ever forget. But not the man himself. I remember his arms wrapped around me, and then…what? It’s all a haze in my mind.

My muscles protest as I stretch across the coarse blanket. I don’t need to look around the small rooms to know I’m alone. The stillness in the air tells me that, but I check anyway, wrapping the blanket around me. I look into the small galley kitchen and the tiny bathroom. Empty.

I open the door. The light from the windows illuminates the white pickup truck, still where Stone left it.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Had I thought he would leave me here? No. He wouldn’t do that. I may not remember exactly what happened after we had sex, but I remember the deep sense of peace I felt. Like I was finally safe after so many years of uncertainty. I think I was finally able to let go of my family’s expectations.

Some sixth sense sends me around the side of the cabin, where a thin, moonlit trail separates the structure from thick brush. Twigs catch at the blanket, as if they want to pull me in. Or maybe they only want to pull the blanket. I tuck it tighter around myself.

When I reach the back, I’m struck mute for a moment.

No wonder he comes here. The cabin may be remote and modest, but God, this view. He can see the whole city from here. It stretches out in the shadow of the mountain, both large and somehow made small.

His large silhouette breaks the spread of lights. He doesn’t turn or startle, even when I step on a twig with a crack. Because he knows I’m here. He probably sensed me getting up. He’s in tune with nature in a way I never realized someone who lives in the city could be. It makes me wonder about the safe house he lives in with the other guys. Is there something elemental about it?

“Good morning,” I say softly, coming to stand a foot behind him. It’s two in the morning. Not really morning, I guess.

“Morning,” he says, his voice almost menacing.

It sends a lovely shiver down my spine. “I missed you beside me. Couldn’t you sleep?”

“Hardly ever,” he says, which strikes me as both true and terribly sad.

In the wordless moments that follow, I can hear crickets behind us and the hum of the city in front of us. We’re in between them. There must be thousands of people awake right now. Some coming from work after a late shift at a restaurant. Others waking up early to work in a bakery. The city doesn’t sleep; it’s like Stone that way.

He turns, his eyes a glossy dark. “Are you cold?”

It’s strange, this distant concern from him. Is this how he treats all his lovers? Does sex smooth some of his rough edges, make him more gentleman than criminal? “I’m okay.”

“We should get back soon.”

“Probably.” I hate thinking about how worried my mother would be. That’s what bothers me most. Not leaving Liam and my friends at prom. Not even my father. I don’t know what to believe about him. “I don’t want this to end.”

A shadow passes over his face. “It’s already over.”

There’s a hitch in my breath. In my heart. In the swell of hope that said somehow this could last. Of course he’s right, but it’s still hard to speak. So I don’t. I take a step closer, standing near enough to feel his body heat in the cool night.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. I can feel his heartbeat; it becomes my own. This kind of intimacy, it’s almost deeper than when we had sex. Taking comfort. Giving it.

“Who was she?” I ask softly. “The woman you loved?”

Even after all this, I’m not jealous of her. Well, maybe a little bit. Mostly I want Stone to find peace in his life. I’m not sure he could find that with a secretly broke debutante, no matter how many times he takes me hostage. I don’t have what he needs, but maybe someone does.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

I pull back, a little shocked. “Love always matters.”

“Does it?” he asks, gently mocking, tracking a finger down my cheek.

“Yes. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that matters.”

“I love someone who lied to me,” he says with a half-smile. “Someone who betrayed me. So what does that make me, little bird? Pretty fucking stupid, but it doesn’t make me stop loving her.”

That explains why he’s not with her, then. He might love her until he dies, but he can’t be with someone who betrays him. Loyalty means everything to him.

Even if I hadn’t seen that basement, I would know that about Stone. He’s like some kind of rock, to have survived that. An avalanche of strength and honor when it comes to protecting his crew. He seems like he’s made of something other than flesh, but I’ve touched him in his most private moment. I know the truth. “It makes you human,” I say softly.