I’m tearing at the handle to the hatch above, wincing as brick rubble tumbles onto me as I clamor out and jump down, peering and choking through the stone dust.
Please be ok, please be ok.
I’m whirling in the chaos of the crumbled room, whirling around in the ashen white dust choking the space.
Please be ok, Oh God, please be-
And there he is; kneeling in the rubble with chains dangling from his wrists. I’m crying out as I run across the room to him, kissing him and wrapping my arms around him as tears stream down through the stone-dust on my cheeks; “I love you.”
The words I haven’t said in forever, and yet here they are sounding like the most natural thing in the world to say right now. And I’m saying them over and over as I kiss him, holding him tightly to me and crying; never wanting to let him go, and never wanting to stop telling him.
“Took you long enough,” he says with a grin on his face, and I sob out a laugh; “I love you too,” He whispers, pulling me close and searing my lips with a kiss.
“Who the fuck taught you how to drive stick?”
I choke out a sob at the sound of Logan’s voice, and I turn and throw my arms around my brother; “You did, asshole, but I wasn’t driving anyways.” He winces; “Watch the arm,” he says, nodding at the askew-looking limb at his side. He chuckles and hugs me tight with the other as he nods at a broken spot on the wall right next to where the tank came through; “Well whoever was cut it pretty fucking close there, kid.”
“I-” I glance at Bryce and reach out to grab his hand before I turn back to Logan; “There’s something I need to tell-”
“Yeah, no, we’ve covered that,” Logan says with a grin as my jaw drops.
“I’m- I mean, Logan, I’m so-”
“You don’t owe me a thing you know, least of all an apology,” He says quietly, wrapping his arm around my shoulder; “I just want you to be happy and safe.” He arches a brow at Bryce; “Happy and safe; you got that, Connors?”
Bryce grins; “I’m on it.”
The top to the tank bangs open again, and Sasha comes sputtering out, frowning as she brushes dust and debris from her sleeves.
“What’s she doing here?” Bryce mutters.
“Oh, we’re friends now,” I say with a grin, wrapping my arm around his waist.
“Lovely to see you too, darling,” Sasha says wryly, jumping down from the tank and tossing him a handgun before she hands one to Logan. She suddenly frowns and kicks at the rubble beside the tank; “Oh, dear, is that?-”
“Anderson?” Logan says evenly. My eyes go wide as I turn towards him. He shrugs; “Like I said,” He nods at the jagged hole in the wall; “You cut it pretty fucking close there.”
Sasha shrugs; “Well, that’s what happens when you don’t keep your hands to yourself.” She looks up, totally calm; “Now are we quite ready to get the fuck out of here?”
Bryce nods; “Let’s go.”
We’re running through the hallways of the fortress towards the vehicle port, Sasha and I helping Logan limp along and Bryce bringing up the rear, when suddenly there’s a shout from behind us.
I whirl, and my face goes ashen.
“Alright, enough of this bullshit!” The man with the silvered goatee and the piggish face has a thick arm around Bryce’s neck and a gun at his temple. He’s snarling, his face red with rage as he presses the gun against Bryce’s head, his eyes swinging wildly between him and the rest of us.
“Where are they!” He roars, clenching his jaw and tightening his arm around Bryce’s neck. I cry out and take a step towards them, but the man hisses and levels the gun at me; “Back up there, sweet cheeks.” Bryce growls and moves to break free of the arm around his neck, but the man who can only be Benson brings the gun right back to his head; “Easy there, Connors,” He spits; “Now where are they.”
“They’re gone.”
Benson’s eyes narrow into slits, his lips pulling back in a snarl; “What?”
“I said they’re fucking gone, Benson; long gone.”
Benson’s face goes a shade redder and he snarls viciously at Bryce; “You spent them?!”
“I gave them back; donated them to charities the first chance I had.”
Benson roars, yanking his arm tight against Bryce’s neck; “You fucking idiot!” He’s raging now, his eyes wild and spit flying from his lips; “You stupid, stupid fucking idiot!”
The dull roar in my head begins to grow louder and louder, until it begins to drown me; burying me under the force of it and dragging me under. Because suddenly, I’m seeing Bill all over again. The world starts to dim around me, going into slow motion, and suddenly it’s him standing in front of me.
"The fuck have you been?"
Only this time, it’s worse, because this time, it’s not just me. This time, I have a family, and he’s hurt them, again and again. This time, I’m watching him inflict the hurt onto someone I love.
"Don't you dare talk back to me you fuckin whore!"
And I’m done watching.
It’s a fluid move as I turn and grab the gun tucked into Logan’s waist. It’s heavier in my hand than I expected, the metal cold as my fingers wrap around the stock. But then I’m turning, the whole scene playing out in slow motion around me as I whirl back to Benson, raising the barrel in my hand, and leveling it at him.
“Oh, knock it off,” Benson says, rolling his eyes; “You’re not gonna shoot me, sweet cheeks.”
I’m trembling, my eyes locked on Bryce’s - locked onto the man I love as Benson presses a gun to his head.
“Run along home, little girl, before you make me do something to mess up that pretty little face of yours,” Benson says with a snarl.
“I swear to fucking God I'm gonna put some respect into you if I gotta burn it into yer skin!"
“Besides,” He says, winking at me; “We both know you don’t have it in you to kill anyone, right?”
The sizzling smell of my own skin, the bright, blinding pain that sears itself into my heart. And I’m screaming…still screaming.
And suddenly, everything just clicks. The sirens in my head go silent, the gun grows light in my hand, and the world drops away around me as my eyes lock onto Benson; “Wrong.”
The gun thunders with the sudden explosive release, the recoil thudding through my body with one deafening, defining moment. Benson falls back, and it’s almost like slow motion as I watch him tip backwards, as if falling through water, before he crumples to the ground.
And suddenly the world snaps back to normal speed as the whole scene goes silent.
I let the gun drop from my hand, letting it clatter to the floor. I’m falling, the world spinning around me before suddenly Bryce is there, catching me and wrapping me in his arms; “Hey, I’m here,” He murmurs, and I press my face into his chest, squeezing my eyes shut and letting the moment flow through me; “I’m here.”
And suddenly, for the first time in forever, the roaring inside of me is gone, and I feel something new entirely.
Peace.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to look up into my brother’s face as he nods at me slowly; “You OK?”
I grin and grip Bryce’s hand even tighter; “I’m-” I take a shaky breath, finding my center, and breathing in the silence inside; “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s all going to be OK.”
And I know it is.
“Let’s go home.”
Every person has a story to tell, and try as you might, it’s never one you write alone.
Believe me, I’ve tried.
It’s also never just about one person, either. You don’t get to pick the characters in your story, because they just happen, and the ones that are meant to be there are going to be there no matter what; even if you pretend to ignore them for a year.
I squeeze Bryce’s hand harder as we watch Logan all but leap down the stairs from the plane and run across the tarmac towards Quinn. And right there behind them is the rest of their- I stop and shake
my head; no, right there behind them is the rest of my family, the only one I’ve got and the best one I could have ever hoped for. Hudson and Reagan, with Christine clinging to her dad’s good shoulder are grinning as they close in to wrap their arms around Logan, and then there’s Javier, actually crying as he grabs the man he once wanted to kill into a big bear hug as Chelsea grins away behind them.
And then we’re watching the introductions as Logan beckons a suddenly shy-looking Sasha over to their little group; one more new face to the crowd.
“You ready?”
I turn and grin at Bryce, threading my fingers into his. Am I ready to finally take the step we meant to take a year ago? Ready to finally join a family and stop pretending I’m the only one writing this story?
Hell yes.
“So, I guess this means I’m in the cool Archer club now?”
He rolls his eyes, knowing I’m teasing him; “Yeah, I’ll make sure to get you that membership card and the jacket with your name on it pronto.”
“Guess this means we need get married or something, huh?” I grin at him, seeing him arch an eyebrow at me; “Probably have some kids, something normal like that?”
Bryce laughs; “Well well, is stone-cold Peyton Rivers ready to settle down?” He makes an overly dramatic shocked face at me; “So I guess this means you’re ready to be my good little housewife? Get all domesticated? Cook my dinners, bring me my slipper-”
I slug him in the arm; “I’d like to fucking see you try!”
He laughs; “There it is.” He kisses me; “How about you stay exactly the same,” he murmurs; “I like you wild.”
“Only if you stay crazy,” I say with a grin.
“Deal.”
But of course, there’s never a “final chapter” to anyone’s story, because the story is always moving forward. Every day is an empty page, and it’s our job to fill them with life; with laughter, with tears, with struggles, and with triumphs. We may stumble and fall, and we may bend and break under the winds and tides of the fates that move us, but no matter what, the story will always find it’s way through.
Because that’s life.
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Aubrey Irons enjoys writing about bold, sassy, and intelligent women and the dominant, cocky, and quite typically forbidden alpha males who love and lust for them; gripping stories, happy endings, and enough heat to keep things extra steamy! In the real world, Aubrey is kept plenty entertained by her own tattooed Marine husband, their precocious and adorable three year old, and one very ill-behaved puppy.
Roar (Military Bad Boy Billionaire Romance) (Soldiers of Fortune Book 4) Page 16
