11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Bri

H ow much have I had to drink? The thought hits me as I make my way to the bathroom, the floor swaying slightly as I weave through the crowd.

Tonight was exactly what I needed. It felt like a fresh start. I didn't feel like I was holding my tongue or trying to walk on eggshells around anything.

They don't know me, so it's easy to ignore all of the enormous decisions sitting in front of me and just be.

It's like a weight lifted.

As I wash my hands, I remind myself that everything I left in Vegas needs to be dealt with.

"Brielle?" A light female voice behind me says, and my eyes flash into the mirror.

A woman with platinum blonde hair and striking blue eyes stands behind me, and it only takes me a second to realize she's Awakened. The telltale glow I've come to notice gives her away.

I force a smile, turning myself around to face her, which only makes me dizzy.

Okay—definitely had too much to drink.

"Do I know you?" I ask, angling myself toward the door in the small space and trying to appear casual.

"Nope, but I know you," she says, moving her hand from behind her back to reveal a knife. "And you're going to walk right out of here with me quietly. Do you understand?"

"Not sure if I can do that, actually," I say, hoping my instincts are right. "See, I'm not here alone."

As I finish the sentence, the door pushes open, and I make my move, ducking behind a startled woman and back into the crowd. An arm wraps around my center, pinning me back into the wall and shielding me from the crowd.A single inhale tells me exactly who is holding me, and the fight in me releases, my arms looping his waist without a thought.

"Breathe, Firefly."

His whispered words hit my ears, and I realize my heart is racing, panic filling me.

"There's a woman in…"

"Shhhhh…" he leans closer to my ear. "I've got you. You're safe with me. Just breathe."

Just breathe?

I am breathing.

Am I breathing?

Shit.

His arms pull me into him, and he steers us to the back door, looking to any passerby like a couple off to finish our night.

The cold air outside hits my skin, and I inhale shakily, taking in the icy oxygen.

Cain releases me, giving me space to calm down, but the chill that hits me as soon as his body leaves mine only adds to my panic, and I step back into him, burying my face in his chest as tears begin to fall.

"I've got you. You're safe. Keep breathing. I've got you. You're safe…"

He repeats the phrases over and over, the soothing tone allowing me to focus on him, his words, his scent, his warmth, and even the rhythm of his heartbeat.

After a few minutes, I pull back, not releasing my arms but tipping my head up to look at him.

"Is it always like this in your world?" I whisper, knowing I can't survive a lifetime of looking over my shoulder, of constantly having to be on guard, ready for an attack.

"Not usually. You've just made an impression, and everyone wants to have you," he says, keeping his words light and gently kissing my forehead. My eyes close involuntarily at the act, and when they open, I see the doubt swirling in his.

"I don't want to spend my life having to be saved," I say, hating the way this new reality makes me feel helpless all the time.

"You've got a funny way of showing it, City girl," a smooth country drawl says from behind Cain, causing his hold on me to tighten.

I peek around Cain's body to see Ghost casually leaning against the bar wall. He's wearing all black, making his white hair and pale blue eyes even more pronounced.

"Yes, Casper, because I'm running around with a sign on my shirt that says ‘kidnap me,'" I say, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

"Might as well be." He shrugs, continuing with a grin, "Told you yesterday people were after you, and yet still you are out gallivanting at restaurants and bars. Protecting you is a logistical nightmare. It's no wonder your ‘kind of sort of maybe boy toy' over here had to bring a fully trained security team to handle the job."

"I didn't ask for any of this!" I snap, stepping around Cain's hold, causing him to shift his grip and place him behind me, hands still loosely hanging around my waist.

"And I thought you'd be watching my back. Some legend! Dante talked about you like you walk on water, but you ghosted me today! I guess that's the real way you got your name. Poof! You're gone when someone needs you!" By the end of the statement, I'm almost yelling, and Ghost's expression turns dark. For a moment, I feel bad as pain flashes across his face like I've physically smacked him, but the shaking of Cain's chest as he holds back laughter, pulls my attention away.

"Something funny, Mr. Mingan," I ask, raising an eyebrow and looking over my shoulder.

He clears his throat, amusement dancing in those stormy eyes.

"Nope. Sorry," he gets out, clearly holding back as he presses his lips together before looking back at Ghost.

"I've got her from here," Cain says, nodding at Ghost in a way that seems like a thank you.

Ghost's eyes slide to mine, his eyebrow lifting and his head tilting just slightly, and I can almost hear the silent question.

‘What'll it be, City?'

Is this what I want?

I nod, not trusting my voice as I make the decision.

The last few weeks have been stressful, and for one night, I want to turn off all the doubt and all the questions and stop running from how he makes me feel.

"I'll have someone grab her things," Cain says.

"No need. I'll drop them off," Ghost says, pulling something from his back pocket while walking up to me. He extends his arm, and I see my phone in his gloved hand. "It's clean, and I've added a few new safety measures so no one can track you," he adds.

"How do I know you aren't tracking me?" I ask, stopping his progress.

"You don't, and of course I am, just like your Mate is. Wouldn't want you getting yourself lost in the woods now, would we?" he says, a smile in his voice as he walks away.

He's what?

Cain tenses behind me, and I hear Ghost chuckle.

"Call if you need me, City," he waves behind.

"How? You want me to howl at the moon? I don't even have your number," I add, realizing he has all my stuff and I have no way to contact him.

"As amusing as that would be, I'm sure the contact I added on the phone will work just fine," he finishes before turning out of sight, leaving me feeling like an idiot.

Something about that man always has me irritated.

"Let's get your coat. You must be freezing out here," Cain says, wrapping his arm around me and guiding me back to the bar. My feet plant, stopping our progress.

"She's been taken care of. The bar is safe," he says, misreading my pause.

"Was he telling the truth? Are you tracking me?" I ask, my voice small.

We just started getting back to a good place.

"Yes and no. The pack has been tracking you since the night after the recording you took. I haven't used that access since you were taken, but we still can access it if you have your phone on you. Pres has everyone's phone in the system. It's for our safety and yours, but I swear, I have done exactly what I told you I would. I backed off. I gave you space," he finishes, and I can hear the desperation in his voice.

Stepping forward, I let my movement speak. I'm ready to move forward. Let go of the past. With this. With us.

I maneuver my way through the bar, catching Tristan's eye as I approach, and I see her gaze jump to the man at my back.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out. I will see you in the morning," I say, not introducing him or explaining my absence.

The glint in her eye tells me she's reading this situation, and she approves.

"Of course, sleep in a bit. We don't have our first meeting until ten." She winks at me, and I grab my coat from the back of the stool before heading toward the front door.

When we reach the sidewalk, I pause—not knowing where he's staying or how he got here.

Pulling on my coat, I realize I'm exhausted. The anticipation of the day and the emotions of the night have left me drained, and the buzz I was sporting less than twenty minutes ago is completely gone.

"Which way, Candy Cain?" I say, turning back to look at him.

His eyes flash to mine, and my breath catches at their intensity. He pulls his phone out and types out a text message before responding to me.

"I thought I wasn't sweet enough for that nickname," he says, a sly smile forming on his face as he steps into me, his hands landing on my hips. His closeness forces me to tilt my head back, and I realize exactly how close his lips are to mine.

I lick my bottom lip in anticipation and lock eyes with him.

"I'd say saving me from a psycho with a knife would qualify as sweet," I reply, the words coming out breathy.

The door to the bar opens, and a man walks out, breaking the moment's tension and pulling Cain's attention. He drops a key fob into Cain's hand before heading back inside.

"I will always save you, Firefly. Always," he says, sincerity in his tone.

Every fiber of my being pulls me to him, and I stop fighting it. Lifting up onto my toes, I place my lips on his. The kiss is slow, sweet, and timid at first. My arms loop his neck, and he pulls my body flush to his. His tongue teases, and my lips part, allowing him entry.

His kiss is an apology, a promise, a vow, and I'm transported back to the day at the packhouse in the garden—all of the emotions rising within me.

His hand slides up, cupping my cheek and tipping my chin to give him more access. The sound of my moan is lost as he breaks from my lips and begins trailing kisses down my neck and then up my jaw and onto my cheeks.

It's only then I realize I'm crying. Emotions spilling out of me that I've held in for too many weeks.

He pulls back, holding my face in his hands with nothing but understanding in his eyes.

"Let's get you out of this cold," he says before placing one more kiss on the tip of my nose and turning me down the sidewalk toward the car.

I don't know if I'm ready to make all these life-changing decisions tonight, but I know how I feel, and whether I want to or not, I love Cain.