Page 12

I try to nod, but my neck has turned to stone. The heated moment shatters when a Coast Guard helicopter sweeps past. A searchlight cuts through the growing darkness. The rhythmic thump of rotors echoes off the cliff face, amplifying and surrounding us.

The first flash of memory hits like lightning—the smell of fuel and dust, the sensation of rough hands. My fingertips tingle, then go numb.

“I’m fine,” I manage, the lie transparent even to my ears.

But I’m not okay.

My body goes rigid, and my knuckles turn white where I grip the railing. The sound transforms into a different roar in my mind, the wind becoming the downdraft of a different helicopter in a different place. The world around me begins to shimmer at the edges, reality thinning as the past bleeds through.

“Hey.” Hank’s voice seems far away. “Stay with us, luv. You’re safe.”

But I’m already spiraling, my arms wrapping around myself as memories take hold. “I’m sorry?— ”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” Gabe’s voice tries to break through the fog.

My breath comes in sharp, painful gasps. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—” The words tumble out between ragged inhales. I back away from them, hands shaking as they cover my face. “God, I want this, I want—” My voice breaks. “But the memories just—they just?—”

My legs give out. Hank moves instantly, catching me before I hit the deck. I struggle against his hold, lost in the horrors I’m reliving.

“I can’t—I can’t breathe—” My fingers claw at my throat, fighting an invisible restraint. Tears stream down my face as I choke on memories. “Make it stop, please make it stop?—”

“Easy, luv.” Hank’s voice seems steadier now, penetrating the fog. “You’re safe. No one’s holding you down. Feel the wind on your skin. Listen to those waves.”

But I’m too far gone, trembling violently in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m ruining everything.” A sob tears from my throat. “Why can’t I be normal?”

“Shh.” Gabe crouches in front of us, careful not to box me in. “You survived hell… twice. There’s no timeline for healing from that.”

I shake my head frantically. “But I want you both so much.” My breathing becomes more erratic, edging toward hyperventilation. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“Look at me.” Hank turns my face toward his, and concern fills his eyes. “You’re not ruining anything. We’re not going anywhere. Tonight is about making you feel safe.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He brushes away my tears with his thumb. “We protect what’s ours. You’re ours now, whether we’re fucking or not.”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” Gabe’s voice is comforting rather than commanding. “Tonight, you rest. We protect. Nothing more.”

The wind picks up, carrying a deeper chill, and I shiver against Hank as he sets me on my feet. Gabe moves first, sliding the door open while Hank guides me inside. My steps are steadier now, but exhaustion radiates from my body. A bone-deep weariness settles in, the kind that only comes after an adrenaline crash.

A bedroom door stands open at the end of the hall, and warm light spills into the corridor. The California king bed explains itself immediately.

“You’re sleeping in the middle,” Gabe says, gesturing toward the bed.

I blink, then nod, letting them guide me. They undress me with care, and I shiver under their hands. Not from fear but desire.

Hank gives me his shirt, the fabric draping loosely around my petite frame. Gabe pulls back the covers.

“Scoot to the middle, luv.” Hank gently lowers me onto the mattress. They strip down to their skivvies—a necessary barrier after everything that’s happened.

I shuffle to the center of the bed, and they settle in on either side of me, a protective formation that makes me safer than I’ve felt in years.

I settle between them like I belong there, as if this configuration has always been inevitable. My body recognizes its rightness, even as my mind catalogs the complexities ahead.

But that’s for later.

Right now, I need something simple.

Hank’s fingers trail lightly along my cheek, tracing the delicate curve of my jaw, my skin still damp from tears. “Do you have flashbacks often, luv?” His voice comes quiet, coaxing rather than pressing.

I stiffen slightly, my breath hitching, but I don’t pull away.

Gabe shifts beside me, his presence a steady weight, his warmth soaking into my skin. He doesn’t say anything; he just watches, waiting, giving me space.

I swallow hard. “Ever since the first time,” I admit, voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t bad at first… just nightmares, mostly. Then it started happening when I was awake.”

Hank nods, brushing his thumb along the edge of my cheekbone, keeping me grounded in the present. “Triggers?”

My lips press together before I sigh. “Loud noises. The sound of helicopters. Being restrained—sometimes.” My fingers twitch slightly where they rest against the sheets. “I never know when it’s going to hit. Sometimes, it’s nothing. Other times…” My voice falters, my throat working around the words.

Hank catches my chin gently, tilting my face toward his, ensuring I see him. “Tonight was one of the times?”

I nod, slowly.

“It’s gotten worse since Kazakhstan.” The words fall like an admission. “I thought—” I swallow again, frustration flickering across my face. “I thought maybe after getting out, I’d be better this time.”

Hank nods, still stroking my cheek, his fingers barely there, soothing rather than demanding. “Have you seen a therapist for it?”

A ghost of a smile flickers at my lips, wry and a little bitter. “I have. But it’s different when you live under a microscope. No matter how good they are, I always have to wonder—who are they loyal to? Me? Or my father?”

Gabe exhales, his fingers trailing lightly along my arm, the touch slow and deliberate. “That’s a shitty way to live.”

“He means well, but …” I huff out something like a laugh. “Welcome to my world.”

Hank brushes his thumb across my lips, silencing the bitterness before it settles too deep. “Well, you’ve got us now. We’re not going to let you fight this alone.”

My breath catches, and something shifts inside me—hope, fragile but blooming, and a longing to trust these two men.

Slowly, hesitantly, I nod.

“How about you try to sleep,” Hank murmurs against my hair, his hand drifting lower, settling at the small of my back. “We’ve got you.”

Gabe tucks the blankets around me, his hand finding Hank’s across my body, locking me between them.

For a long time, I just breathe.

And finally, for the first time—I relax.

Just as sleep begins to claim me, I make a decision. I don’t want the night to end like this.

My lips brush Hank’s, soft and sweet, but when I turn to face Gabe, something bolder takes over. The kiss I give him is neither hesitant nor chaste. My body arches, creating a bridge between them, and a sound escapes me that I barely recognize as my own.

Hank watches, shock and arousal in his gaze as I kiss Gabe while grinding against him. I’m offering myself to them both, no longer afraid.

But Hank catches my hip in a firm grip, stilling my movement.

“Sleep,” he orders, his voice rough but leaving no room for argument. I make a slight sound of protest, but he holds me firmly. “We’ll have you soon enough, but not tonight.”

“But, I don’t want to ruin?—”

“You’ve ruined nothing, luv, but tonight we sleep. Tomorrow—” The promise in his voice makes me shiver.

His body tells a different story than his words. The hard length of him presses against my hip as he holds me, and tension vibrates in his jaw, the tight control in every muscle. He inhales sharply when I shift against him.

“The rule applies to all of us,” he says, voice strained. “Even me.”

He gently kisses my forehead and then looks at Gabe over my head. Some silent communication passes between them. Gabe nods almost imperceptibly.

Hank shifts beside me. “Much as I’d love to stay here … ” He eases away from my warmth, careful not to disturb me too much. “Got some business to handle.”

I watch him walk toward the bathroom, the realization dawning slowly. The shower starts moments later.

“Is he … ?” I whisper to Gabe, not quite able to form the question.

Gabe’s lips quirk up. “Beating his meat? Yeah.” His tone is matter-of-fact, not a hint of embarrassment. “And as soon as he returns, I’ll do the same.”

“Oh.” My eyes widen.

“Shocked?” Gabe asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“A little,” I admit, heat rising to my cheeks. “But shouldn’t I… ”

“Hank made his decision. Tonight, we sleep. You don’t need to do anything.”

“But …”

“Don’t argue. Not when Hank’s said his piece.” Gabe’s voice is smooth, steady—firm without being unkind. His fingers trail lightly along my jawline, grounding me. “Just because we’re hard and aching doesn’t mean you must do something about it. There’s no obligation. Not now, not ever.”

“But it’s my fault that we’re not…”

“Fucking?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to fuck a lot, sweetheart. There’s no rush. Hank isn’t one to rush into things, not when he’s worried about you.” His gaze flickers, something unreadable in his dark eyes before his mouth tips into the barest hint of a smirk. “We’re perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves until we can both fuck you.”

“You’re very …”

“What?”

“Upfront about sex.” I bite my lip, unused to men who speak so bluntly about their desires. “Most guys I’ve known either made crude jokes or mumbled awkwardly when the topic came up.”

“I think you’ll find we’re not like most guys.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that sense.”

“You’d best get used to talking frankly about sex, sweetheart. It’s meant to be enjoyed, not hidden away.” The words are low and edged with meaning. “There’s no shame in admitting what you want. Expect Hank to ask a lot of questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” His low, throaty chuckle shouldn’t be legal. I’m already wet, eager for more. “How can we please you if we don’t know what you like?”

“I just feel guilty, leaving both of you… hanging.”

“Don’t be.” His thumb brushes my chin, his touch reassuring. The way he looks at me—steady, patient, completely unashamed—sends a shiver down my spine. This isn’t a man who fakes control. It’s not an act, not some game he’s playing.

It’s real.

“And you might as well get comfortable seeing us take matters into our own hands, especially Hank. He loves to watch—and be watched. When you’re ready, he’ll probably want you to watch him stroke himself while I’m fucking you. That’s just how we are. Nothing hidden, nothing held back.”

I swallow hard. “I’m not used to being so … open about it.”

“You will be,” he promises, voice low. “With us, everything’s on the table. Wants, needs, fantasies. No hiding.” The directness in his gaze makes my breath catch. “That’s the only way this works.”

Gabe shifts beside me, his arousal evident, but he makes no move to leave.

“Why aren’t you … ” I trail off, but my meaning is clear.

His expression softens. “We’re not leaving you alone after what happened on the deck.” His voice drops lower. “One of us stays with you at all times tonight. That’s the rule.”

I don’t remember Hank mentioning anything about that, but maybe it was in that silent communication they shared in their eyes.

“But you’re … ” My eyes flicker downward briefly.

“I’ll survive,” he says with a wry smile. “Hank will be back. Then I’ll take care of it.”

My body weighs heavy with exhaustion, but my mind is hyperalert. Aware of Hank’s shadow moving behind the frosted glass and the soft sounds he tries to muffle. When Hank slips back into the bedroom, Gabe untangles himself from my grip.

I shift, instinctively seeking Hank’s warmth. He pulls me into his arms, and I breathe in his clean scent as I settle against his chest. My body relaxes completely, trusting, and for the first time in forever, I’m not alone.