Page 48 of Torrent’s Treasure

“Cecilia caught that Jasmine knew you guys were on your way back. The question is how?” Dragon asked.

“She already had the information when she entered the room. Do we know where she was before that?” Maverick wondered.

“She wasn’t around all morning. Usually, she hangs in the common room after breakfast, but I worked in there after breakfast and never saw her,” Mammoth recalled.

“I haven’t had time to check surveillance, but after the meeting, I’ll put together a timeline,” Gunner said.

“I agree that leaving her in the Boneyard to think about her future might loosen her lips. Everyone in favor of leaving her for forty-eight hours while we gather intel?” Dragon proposed.

At the ayes, Dragon stared at him.

“I’ll fucking leave her alone, for now,” Torrent grudgingly answered. He’d never wanted to hit a woman, but Jasmine attacking Cecilia had him not caring she was a woman. She needed to keep her hands off Cecilia.

“We’re agreed. Mammoth, you’re in charge of a schedule of brothers to keep an eye on her. I don’t want her left alone down there—keep someone on guard. They’re not allowed to physically hurt her, but anything psychological is on the table. Dismissed,” Dragon commanded.

Torrent hurried out, ignoring all the brothers who wanted to chat. He needed to see with his own eyes that Cecilia was really okay. She’d punched hard. Was her hand okay? She needed them for her job, if she ever got to practice again.

He knocked on Sally and Dragon’s suite, entering as soon as Sally yelled, “Come in!” He clocked Sally and Calliope on the couch. Cecilia was sitting in a chair with an ice bag on her hand. He knelt in front of her.

“Are you okay? Your hand?” he asked, taking the ice bag off and holding her hand in his. He ran his finger along her wrist and up and down each finger, checking to see if she winced at the touch.

“I’m good. The ice bag is because Sally was being cautious. My dad taught me to hit with my thumb on the outside, so it didn’t get hurt,” Cecilia explained, her hand touching his face. “Thank you for checking on me.”

He nodded, his throat tight. He stared into her eyes, telling himself that she was okay. She wasn’t hurt, and from the video he’d seen and how she’d gotten safe from Horse’s Ass—his wife was one fierce woman.

“Calliope and I are going to make a special dessert for dinner tonight. We’re celebrating Cecilia standing up for herself,” Sally shared.

Cecilia chuckled. “We don’t need to celebrate.”

“Yes, we do. It will probably take us a couple hours. Why don’t you two go spend some time together since Torrent’s been gone a couple days. I’ll text before I bring Calliope back,” Sally suggested.

Torrent stood up, holding his hand out to Cecilia. Spending time, sitting on the couch and holding her, knowing she was okay, sounded perfect. Cecilia took his hand, and he led them back to their room. He unlocked the door and held it open for her to go in.

Cecilia walked through the door, heading toward the couch. She stopped short of the couch and turned back toward him.

Torrent walked toward her and wondered if she was going to break down. She had a strange look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Torrent asked, stepping close.

What was wrong? Nothing was wrong. For once, everything had fallen into place. She was going to ignore the short amount of time she’d known him.

“Nothing’s wrong. I realized that I want this marriage to be real,” she confessed.

Torrent tilted his head as if he didn’t understand what she was saying.

“It is real. The minister was real,” he said, his hand cupping her face. “Are you okay?”

She turned her face, kissing his palm. “I’ve never been better. I mean, I want to be a real wife to you, but I’m scared I’ll freak out if you’re on top of me or behind me.”

He breathed deeply, pulling her close until they were flush. She shivered, his body heat and his smell telling her she was home.

“You are a real wife, and I don’t want you freaking out. Let’s take it slow,” he reassured her.

“Take it slow how?” she demanded, scowling at him. She’d said she wanted to be a real wife to him and his answer was to take it slow. What the fuck?

He chuckled, rubbing his finger across her forehead, smoothing out the furrows. “We’ve only kissed. Taking it slow means slow.”

“Did anyone ever tell you how maddening you are sometimes?” she huffed. Was this going to be a refrain for the rest of their lives?