Page 89 of Unbroken

Chapter 16

RUTHIE

The first timeI walk back into the Wolf and Moon after the slap, my skin still feels raw.

Not from her. Not really.

From him.

From the way he lifted me like I was something precious and fragile—something that needed saving. Like I mattered. Like he cared.

Which is fucking dangerous. Caring is a liability in our world, and I know better.

Still, I throw myself into the chaos behind the bar like it’s armor. Glasses clink. Orders barked. Neon haze and too-loud bass. The old rhythm returns, but it doesn’t feel the same. Something under my skin itches now… like he’s watching.

And he is.

Vadka’s shadow is stitched into every corner. I don’t even have to turn. I feel him in the way the hair on the back of my neck stands when the door opens. In the slight shift of weight when a man too dangerous to be ignored enters a room.

He watches me.

Always.

From across the floor. From the corner booth where he pretends he’s not guarding me. Silent sentinel in a black shirt and darker eyes, tracking my every move. Not interfering. Just… there.

For days, that’s all it is.

Work. Watch. Avoid.

He doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t speak. Just sends texts at night that haunt my phone and keep me up late.

Vadka

You look tired tonight. Eat something.

The Irish haven’t made a move. Doesn’t mean they’re not planning.

I don’t like the bartender who wears the gold chain. He watches your ass too long.

I don’t respond to most. Sometimes I send a photo of the shitty food I finally ate. Once, a middle finger emoji when he got too protective.

But the truth?

I read every one over and over and over again.

And twice, I go to his place. No sex. His eyes never drop from mine. His shoulders tighten like he’s holding himself back from touching me. Like the space between us is an edge he doesn’t dare cross.

Until he does.

It’s a Thursday night when the bar starts to feel too small.

The Irish have been quiet for too long. Everyone's tense… waiting for something to explode. I wipe down the counter harder than I need to, and the glass nearly slips out of my hand.

Then I feel it.

That shift in the air. Like lightning about to strike.

I look up.