Page 30 of Rampage

"Than dead, Lily," he says bluntly. "I've seen what Frank does to people who cross him."

The raw honesty in his voice chips away at my anger, leaving something more complicated in its place.

"I'm not some damsel for you to rescue," I say, but my voice has lost its edge.

Reid steps closer, close enough that I can smell leather and pine. "I know that. But even the strongest people need backup sometimes."

My exhaustion returns full force, making my knees weak. Reid notices immediately, guiding me to the couch with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with his earlier actions.

"One night," I concede, sinking into the soft leather. "Just tonight. Tomorrow we figure out something that doesn't involve you manhandling me."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "Deal."

He disappears down the hallway, returning with a faded t-shirt and sweatpants. "These will be too big," he says, setting them on the coffee table.

I take them, suddenly hyperaware of the intimacy of wearing his clothes. "Thank you."

As Reid turns to give me privacy, a realization hits me. The man who just threw me over his shoulder and ignored my protests is the same one who now politely averts his eyes while I change. The contrast is jarring—and strangely thrilling.

I stare at his broad back, the definition of his shoulders visible even through his t-shirt. My heart races, but not from fear. Something hot and unfamiliar coils in my stomach as I remember the ease with which he lifted me, the unyielding determination in his voice when he said, "No."

No one has ever cared enough about my safety to override my wishes. No one has ever been strong enough, physically or emotionally, to stand against my stubbornness when I'm determined to have my way.

"You can turn around," I say, my voice huskier than intended.

Reid faces me, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of me swimming in his clothes. The t-shirt hangs to mid-thigh, the neckline slipping to expose one shoulder.

"I should be furious with you," I whisper, taking a step toward him.

"You should," he agrees, not moving.

"You kidnapped me."

"I protected you," he corrects, his voice dropping an octave.

Heat floods my cheeks, spreading down my neck and across my chest. I'm caught in the gravity of his gaze, unable and unwilling to look away.

"No one's ever…" I struggle to articulate the confusing mix of emotions. "No one's ever cared enough to just… take control like that."

Something shifts in Reid's expression, understanding dawning as he registers the change in my tone, the flush in my cheeks.

"Lily," he says, caution and desire warring in his voice.

I close the distance between us, my hands reaching up to rest against his chest. Beneath my palms, his heart thunders, matching the frantic pace of my own.

"I'm still mad," I clarify, even as my body betrays me by leaning closer.

"I know," he says, his hands hovering at my waist, not quite touching. "I won't apologize for keeping you safe, but I am sorry for scaring you."

"You didn't scare me," I admit. "That's what's confusing. You should have, but you didn't."

His hands finally settle on my waist, warm and steady. "What do you want, Lily? Right now, in this moment, what do you want?"

The question hangs between us, loaded with possibility. What do I want? Safety, yes. Protection, yes. But also, this—this heat building between us, this connection I've never felt with anyone before.

"You," I whisper, the word barely audible.

The word hangs between us for a heartbeat, and then Reid's control shatters. His hands move from my waist to cup my face, tilting it up as his mouth claims mine. The kiss is nothing like I imagined, not gentle or hesitant, but hungry and demanding. His lips are firm against mine, insistent in a way that makes my knees weak.