Page 180 of Speechless
“But you didn’t.”
Deep lines appeared between his brows. “I threw you to the ground. It was—” I watched his throat move as he swallowed. “Much further than I’d planned.”
He wasn’t wrong. It had been a bit unexpected. But he also told me to use my safe word, and I told him no. Did he not remember?
“You ordered me to safe word. I didn’t.”
Bastian frowned. “What?”
“You pinned me to the wall. Told me to safe word before you couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I knew what would happen.”
He searched my face once more, sudden recognition flooding his own.
“Remember?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” I smiled, but Bastian didn’t. “And you think you threw me down, but all I remember is that you took me down without hurting me. I’m not sure how you did it, but I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wrapped myself around him again. “You wouldn’t have me apologize for going into heat. Why are you apologizing for this?”
He didn’t have to answer for me to understand. Because, once upon a time, someone had been afraid of him. And he viewed himself as a monster. Maybe there were times when he could be, but I wasn’t scared. I didn’t believe Bastian would hurt me. Even out of his mind, he would seemejust the way I could always seehim. No matter what was happening.
He sighed and held me tighter, some of the tension in him easing. It wasn’t gone, but it was better.
I let my hands creep up the back of his head, scratching his scalp gently with my nails as he leaned into the touch. “You should go back upstairs,” he said. “Aftercare.”
“You need aftercare too.”
Bastian’s arms came hard around me, dropping his face into my neck as he purred. I felt the purr all the way down to my toes. It melted me back into my sleepy, soft state, clinging to him so I could stay upright. Now that I knew he was okay, I was ready to sleep and snuggle.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there, only that I was comfy and drifting when Bastian shifted his hold to my thighs, keeping me stable against him as he stood and slowly took me back upstairs. Where I could rest between him and Brooks, the way it was supposed to be.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
_____________
BROOKS
Trinity called in sick to work.
She wasn’t sick, but her voice certainly sounded like it. That, and she said moving felt like she’d been tortured by a personal trainer for hours. But she was smiling when she said it. Now she lounged in bed, with strict orders to rest and enjoy her day while the rest of us took care of things.
I stacked the last box into the trailer and headed back into her apartment. The cleaners were almost finished, but there were a couple of things in here that bothered me, and none of them had to do with my Omega.
The vent covers had been pulled out. All of them. And though I hadn’t fully registered it the last time I was here—far too focused on fixing my fuck up—her throw pillows and couch had been ripped open. The photos and art she’d hung on the walls were askew, tilted like the intruder had looked behind them. Even the back of the toilet wasn’t on evenly.
Not that I was an expert, but this didn’t feel like a normal break-in. They’d been looking for something. Trinity had said as much, but I hadn’t understood what she meant. If it was the flash drive we’d gone to Aiden to decrypt, it put her going to the port in an entirely different context.
What would have happened if she’d been here when they broke in?
An instinct so deep I couldn’t place it told me this was more serious than we’d believed. Yes, it was an exposé that would reveal some nasty shit. And yes, Trinity was an incredible reporter who deserved to break the story. But I also didn’t want her hurt. And if this was in any way connected…
I took a slow breath. How did we protect her without becoming the same kind of asshole that had led me to this apartment the first time?
“We’re finished, Mr. Monroe.”
