Page 17

Peace never lasts.

I shouldn’t be surprised, yet the adrenaline rush of pure fear that overtakes me as the power goes out sends my heartbeat into overdrive.

The last time this happened, it was Ryan’s fault. He cut the power so I wouldn’t be able to see, to defend myself.

Now it’s happening again.

“He’s here,” I whisper, shaking Killian awake. “Killian, please.”

The abrupt movement has him jumping awake and immediately ready for a fight. “Who happened?”

Thunder crashes so loudly, it makes me flinch. “Ry—” I force myself to take a breath. Thunderstorms cause power outages every day, and Ryan doesn’t know where I’m at. He can’t. It doesn’t stop me from shaking. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Hey,” Kill whispers, his hands touching my face softly. “You’re alright, Roo. Stay right here, okay? I’ll go check it out and make sure.”

My stomach twists with fear as I hear something out in the kitchen. “Your gun,” I whisper. “It’s too far away.”

“I’ll bring it in here for you. It can stay on your side.” He kisses my forehead. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Lightning illuminates the room a second before thunder shakes the cabin, and suddenly I don’t want him to leave. If Ryan takes him from me, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I swear I hear the floorboard just outside the door creak, and I’m not the only one.

Killian darts over to the door quickly and yanks it open, his fist raised and poised to attack. But there’s nothing there. “We have a gun,” he yells. “And a killer behind the trigger. Fucking test me.”

A killer on each end, but only one of them has followed through.

I scramble out of bed, refusing to die laying down. If he’s here and Killian doesn’t get him first, I’m going out on my feet.

And then I get an idea.

I snatch my long, black vibrator from the bedside table and rush over to give it to him.

He takes it without question and steps forward, then glances down at it in confusion. “Do I shove it up his ass or what?”

The fact that he’s trying to joke right now makes me want to slap him, but I get it.

“It’s dark,” I whisper. “It’ll look like a gun until you can get to your own.”

Nodding, he holds it like he’s a trained assassin and steps out into the short hallway.

He reaches back to tuck me behind him, ensuring I take each step in his shadow with his giant body as my shield, but it’s clear pretty quickly there’s no one here. All the windows are shut, the doors are closed.

I still don’t say anything until the real gun is safely in Killian’s hands and I’m holding my vibrator like an asshole.

“It must’ve just been the storm,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He sets the gun on the table and cradles my face. “It’s better to be safe than dead. What made you think it was him?”

Insanity, apparently. Breathing, I take a second to ground myself and clear my throat. “When he showed up at my house to kill me, he cut the power first. I thought I was fine. I did. I don’t even think about him most days now, but when the power went out... I was right back in that house praying the cops showed up before he got in.”

“Well good thing no cops showed up, huh?” He nods down at my vibe. “They would have been fucked.”

It’s such a terrible joke I can’t do anything but stare at him.

He laughs for the both of us, then carries me off to bed. “Where should we keep the gun? You pick.”

“Next to you. You’ll aim better.”

It’s also closer to the door, so if he has to get to it quickly from a different room it’ll be easier. I just have to trust him.

“Okay. If you change your mind just let me know.”

It’s almost laughable how quickly I became okay with the thought of my captor having a gun. But Killian isn’t like Ryan. He didn’t kill for pride or because he was disrespected. He did it because he understood nothing would ever change until they truly started paying for their crimes.

A man like that wouldn’t hurt me. He’s had too many opportunities for me to think otherwise.

“I won’t change my mind — except maybe that we need a few more.”

Killian nods. “Your dad doesn’t have a shotgun or something? I looked when I first got here but figured it was probably hidden.”

“I don’t know. I think there’s a safe down in the bunker but I never bothered asking what’s inside of it.” Curious, I glance over toward the trapdoor that leads down there. “We could check. I know what the code is.”

“Wanna go now? Going to be hard to go back to sleep, but we’ll need a couple flashlights... and you need pants. It’ll be cold.”

I also need a few shots of the strongest alcohol we’ve got, but that can wait. This is a distraction, a welcome one, one I desperately need right now. “There are some in the junk drawer in the kitchen. I’ll grab them.”

One’s a standard flashlight and one’s a headlamp, so I let him choose when I get back.

After he forces me into some sweats, he takes the handheld one and leaves me the headlamp, grinning once I’ve got in on. “You look like an adorable miner... wait, that sounded wrong. A person who goes down into mines, not a minor.”

“Mmhm, sure,” I tease. “That’s what you meant.”

I click it on and feel a little better now that I can properly see, but it’s nothing compared to how safe I feel once we’re down in the bunker. My father always told me that nothing could touch me here — not the bad people outside, the monsters under my bed, the weather. He said a bomb could drop on Windwinter and we’d still be okay. If a bomb doesn’t stand a chance, neither will Ryan.

“I forgot I stashed extra clothes down here.” Killian tosses a duffle bag near the stairs and joins me near the safe. “What do you think is in here?”

“I don’t know. He always just told us we’d know when to open it.” Stepping forward, I eyeball the tall, wide tan cabinet and reach for the lock. “The code is the day my parents met. He said he knew immediately that he’d spend the rest of his life with her and build a family, so that was also the day he realized he’d do whatever he could to keep her safe.”

The door pops open and I nearly shut it again when I see what’s inside.

There are four long guns I don’t know enough about to identify, three more handguns, and a foam pad filled with grenades.

Fucking grenades.

“Boom,” I whisper, stepping back so he can see. “I think we’re covered.”

“Fucking hell,” Killian whispers. “Daddy’s ready for the zombie apocalypse.”

He reaches out to touch the biggest one, sending a rush of something I wasn’t quite expecting through me.

This man didn’t hesitate to go make sure we were safe. He didn’t stutter when protecting me. And though our situation is complicated, what I feel right now isn’t complicated at all.

“Take it. It’s okay.”

He gives me a look that says “are you sure?” before picking it up and grabbing a box of shells to take up with us. “We can keep one in the bathroom, living room and mine in the bedroom. Sound good?”

I grab one of the little handguns for myself and nod, then hesitate, offering it to him. “I... wait. This is okay, right? Me having one? I’d be able to get to the others same as you, but...”

“Why not? You’re not going to shoot me. You’d miss me too much.” He tosses me a grin and grabs more bullets. “Have you ever shot one before?”

My sense of self-preservation is dying to ask him if that means I’m free to leave. If he knows I won’t hurt him, surely he realizes that extends to not turning him in. It’s not that I want to leave, but knowing I have the option would be nice. “I know the basics. We can’t exactly practice because we’d draw too much attention to ourselves, but hopefully I’ll never need to use it anyway.”

“I think we’re far enough off grid, but hopefully you don’t. Just point and pull the trigger. You got this.”

He nudges my chin playfully, drawing me in closer until my headlamp bumps against his chest. Laughing, I pull back just enough to see his face. “Come on. I think the storm is over so maybe I’ll finally get some rest.”

And if not, it just so happens that I have a very tall, very strong man around who can find a few ways to put me to sleep.

I’m almost looking forward to it.