Page 92 of Ruthless Raiders

“I’m a monster, Landon.”

“No,” he says immediately, voice like a growl. He shifts, one hand cradling my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You are not a monster, Peach.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he snaps, and there’s something raw behind it. “I know monsters, Jasmine. I see them in the mirror every goddamn day. I live with one inside me. A beast that wants blood and chaos and revenge. And the only time he’s quiet—the only time I can fucking breathe—is when I’m with you.”

His thumb traces the edge of my cheek, soft but grounding. “You were a child. You did what you had to do to survive. That doesn’tmake you a monster. It makes you the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

My lips part, but nothing comes out. The breath I’ve been holding slips out in a shaky exhale, and I press my forehead to his. Landon doesn’t pull away. He just breathes with me, his hand still holding the back of my neck, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against my skin like he knows I need the world to slow down.

I relax into his grip. My limbs are heavy with the kind of exhaustion that doesn’t just come from lack of sleep—it comes from surviving. His warmth is the only thing anchoring me right now.

Then his phone buzzes once on the nightstand.

Neither of us move.

It buzzes again.

Landon exhales through his nose like he’s considering ignoring it, but after the third buzz, he leans away just enough to grab the phone, still keeping one hand on my hip like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.

He answers, voice low and scratchy. “Yeah?”

There’s a pause. Then a smile curves across his lips.

“Nooo,” he says, dragging the word out. “She’s with me now. Yeah, she’s safe.”

I blink up at him, confused, but the glow in his eyes makes my stomach flip.

He chuckles. “We’ll be there in thirty. Tell her not to be dramatic.”

My brows pull together. “Who?”

He doesn’t answer—not right away. Just hangs up and sets the phone back on the nightstand. Then he shifts, tugging the blanket off my shoulders and easing me up into a sitting position.

“Come on,” he says, that secret smile still lingering on his face. “Get dressed.”

“Landon—what’s going on?”

He leans in, brushing his nose against mine. “I have a surprise for you.”

My pulse jumps. “What kind of surprise?”

“The best kind,” he winks, sliding out of the bed. “Meet me in the living room in five minutes.”

I slide into the elevator,eyes narrowed on Landon’s smug face. He has been humming “Old McDonald” and winking at me whenever he sees me looking at him. My irritation has been at an all-time high, which is saying something given that I have basically been giving him googly eyes and finding comfort in his presence more than normal. I fling my fishtail braid over my shoulder and look at his annoyingly cute face.

“So we’re back to you kidnapping me and dragging me to Cast’s penthouse in the city?” I mock, tucking my hands into his leather jacket—which I’ve now commandeered as my own—and leaning against the far wall.

He clicks his tongue and yawns. “I have never kidnapped you, Peach. You followed me here of your own free will.”

“Did I?” I snort, kicking one foot up. “Because if I remember correctly, you said if I didn’t get into your car, you would throw me over your shoulder and carry me. Isn’t that correct?”

“Mmm,” he hums, moving closer to me. “You really like me.”

“I thought I did,” I suck in air between my teeth and shrug. “But you just keep pissing me off.”

Landon’s in my space again, a smug look on his face. “I like you pissed off.”