Page 36 of Stolen Rebel

I lead Rowan and her new best buddy to the back of the house. It’s February, so the temperatures are freezing, but for the first day in a while, the wind isn’t blowing a gale. In silence, we walk the path that leads through the gardens and out into the orchard. The trees are still bare of leaves, and a few rotten apples from last season lie on the ground. Titan strides ahead of us, nose to the ground.

“That’s always been a mystery to me.”

Rowan twists her head in my direction, tension pulling at the tender skin around her eyes, likely because she’s trying to work out what shot I’m preparing to fire next. “What has?”

“If dogs have such sensitive noses, why the fuck do they need to skirt the ground with their snouts to smell anything?”

There’s a pause before Rowan laughs. My insides twist. God, I’ve missed that laugh. Hearing her laugh for Darragh and not for me made me lose my fucking mind.

Careful. There’s still no hard evidence to support her defense on the letter and the call. She’s proven herself a liar over and over again. If I don’t keep my wits about me, and my brain rather than my dick in charge, I’ll lose sight of that fact, and that cannot happen.

“It’s a good point. I don’t have an answer.”

We slip into silence again. As we get warmer from walking, Rowan unzips her coat and her scent hits me. Cinnamon and unmistakably her. My lungs drag it in like I’m starving for air and this is the first real breath I’ve taken in years. God help me. It’s the same smell I used to bury my face in when I was inside her, the one that clung to my sheets, my clothes, my skin.

My jaw tightens until it aches. I remind myself that this is the woman who cast me aside for reasons she won’t reveal. The amnesia story I briefly believed is shite. But attraction doesn’t care about secrets or betrayal or logic. It slides past my defenses and digs under my ribs, flooding me with heat and want and the ghost of trust I thought I’d burned out of myself.

My pulse stutters, my traitorous body leaning a fraction closer before I force it back in line.

I cannot afford to forget that she ran out on me without explanation. No matter how good she smells or how much her laugh feels like home, or how badly my dick wants to push her to the bed of leaves scattered on the ground and fuck her until the pain of her betrayal eases, if only by a fraction.

This is the line in the sand, the one I cannot cross until the whole, ugly truth is revealed.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I snap. “Titan, house.”

I whip around and stomp back through the orchard. Rowan could choose this moment to run, but she won’t get past the wall-mounted electric fence and the armed security patrolling the perimeter. I almost want her to run so I have a reason to chase her.

She doesn’t run. She catches up to me, and her hand brushes my arm. I snap out of reach, the burn from her touch as real as if I’d held my bare flesh over an open flame.

“Liam. What happened? What did I do wrong?”

I don’t reply. I can’t… because if I open my mouth, I risk showing my hand. I keep my face hard, my steps resolute, my heart locked behind years of discipline.

Whatever she did—or didn’t do—I’ll find out soon enough.

Chapter 19

ROWAN

He’s changing the rules, and I don’t know why—which means I’m behind.

It feels like he’s stopped trying to break me. Maybe he intends to make me choose. Choose what, though, that’s the question, isn’t it? Choose him? Isn’t that what I did all those years ago when I left and didn’t look back?

I haven’t slept much, my limbs are heavy and tired, but my mind just won’t let me rest. The house is quiet, and ever since I stepped outside into the chilly February air with him yesterday, all I’ve wanted is to go back outside and suck some fresh air right into my lungs.

So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

If he wants to stop me, he can. But he seems to be back to the grumpy-arsed cold shoulder after whatever happened on our walk yesterday.

I’m not going to try to climb the walls or fight with the electric fence lining the perimeter. I’m not even going to do reconnaissance because I know people with guard dogs, cameras, and scary-looking guards aren’t going to be easy people to escape from. And I’m just a web developer turned bartender.

I’m not a warrior. I’m a survivor though, and right now that needs to be enough. Warriors fight head on. Survivors wait, pick their moment, and make it count.

I just want some fresh fucking air. Need it. I’ll do damn near anything to get out of this room, even just for a few minutes.

At first, my movements are tentative, quiet, like a burglar in my own prison as I open the door and make my way to the stairs. I need to catch a grip. He’s not going to hurt me. I stand up straighter, roll my shoulders, and force a slow breath through my nostrils.

I’m halfway down the hall when I hear Liam’s sharp voice somewhere close by. “Keep fucking looking, Kai. Don’t assume there’s nothing to find just because everything looks boring.” His voice lowers. “People don’t disappear this cleanly unless they practice, or have resources.”