Page 29 of Her Grumpy Protector

We reach the truck. Banks gets me inside first, then slides behind the wheel. Tires screech as we peel out. In the rearview mirror I see Langford standing at the warehouse entrance, watching us escape with cold fury in his eyes. He made it out. He got away.

We drive hard for ten minutes before Banks finally slows down on a quiet back road. He pulls over, kills the lights, and turns to me. His hands are shaking as he reaches for me.

"Show me," he demands, voice tight.

I pull up my sleeve. It’s just a graze, bleeding but not deep. He exhales sharply and presses his forehead to mine.

"I almost lost you," he whispers. "When he had that gun to your head… I’ve never been that scared in my life."

I cup his face with both hands. "You chose me. You dropped your gun for me."

His eyes are stormy. "Of course I did. I love you, Anniston. When this is over, I’m keeping you. I don’t care how dangerous my life is. I don’t care about the risks. You’re mine. I’m yours."

Tears spill down my cheeks as I kiss him, hard and desperate and full of relief. He kisses me back like I’m the only thing anchoring him to this world. When we finally pull apart, both breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine again.

"We got the drives," I whisper. "We’ve got what we need to end this."

He nods, but his eyes are still haunted. "We did. But Langford got away. And my dad… he’s still out there. Nash and Sin are still missing."

I kiss him once more, soft and reassuring. "I love you, Banks. We’ll find them. Together."

Banks holds me tight, one hand buried in my hair, the other stroking my back like he needs to reassure himself I’m really here and safe. For now, in this stolen moment on the dark back road, we have each other.

And that’s enough to keep fighting.

TWENTY-ONE

BANKS

The cabin feels different tonight.

We made it back just after midnight, both of us exhausted, dirty, and still riding the high of adrenaline and pure relief. The drive from the warehouse was quiet at first. The kind of silence that settles in after you have looked death in the face and somehow walked away breathing. Anniston sits beside me the entire way with her hand resting on my thigh, like she needs the constant contact to believe we’re really safe. I keep one hand on the wheel and the other covering hers, grounding myself in the warmth of her skin and the steady rhythm of her breathing.

When we finally pull up to the cabin, the familiar sight of the small wooden structure nestled among the pines hits me harder than I expected. For the first time in months, it doesn’t feel like just another safe house. It feels like coming home.

I lock the heavy deadbolt behind us the second we step inside, then go through my usual routine of checking every window, resetting the perimeter alarms, and making sure the motion sensors are active. Anniston watches me from the middle of theliving room. She looks tired, a little roughed up, and so damn beautiful it makes my chest ache.

“Come here. Let me take a better look at that wound.”

We move into the kitchen and I sit her down.

“It is not that bad,” she says. “Who do you think caused the explosion?”

I shake my head. “I honestly don’t know. I have no fucking clue as to what’s going on. But after I bandage you up I need to call my brothers.”

She nods. “Do you really think it’s over?”

I wish I could tell her yes. “Langford is. You’ll be safe, but I still don’t know how my father fits into everything. I don’t know where the fuck Nash and Sin are.” I wet a towel to clean the blood as I grab my first aid kit from the shelf.

I lose myself in the simple task of cleaning her up as my mind spins. What the fuck is going on? Who was shooting at us? Who interrupted the meeting and why? When I finish with the bandage I lean back in the chair.

“What are you thinking?” Anniston asks me.

I scrub a hand down my face. “Honestly? I have no fucking idea.”

She smiles, and the sight of it nearly knocks me on the ground. “I have a small idea. It could be wrong, but what if the men who shot up the place were working with Wyatt? Maybe your father and Wyatt are working together? I don’t know.”

I cup her cheek. “We’ll look into it.” I pull my phone out, putting a call into Crewe.