Page 11

Briar

I sit up, still recovering from the searing kiss Orion just gave me. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. He’s leaning over me, concern etched across his features. A thousand questions swirl in my mind, but the one that surfaces first is Does he do this with all the women he protects? The thought makes my stomach flip. I remind myself he’s only here to keep me safe, that what just happened probably doesn’t mean anything beyond a heated moment.

I clear my throat, desperate to dispel the thick tension hanging in the room. “I—um—would love some soup,” I blurt, voice shaky but determined. My nightmares, this kiss, the adrenaline—everything’s got me exhausted, and I realize I’m starving.

Orion blinks, clearly thrown by my abrupt change of subject, but he nods. “Right. Soup. Let’s get you fed.”

He stands, offering me a hand. The warmth of his skin sends a spark through me again, but I quickly tamp it down. I let him guide me into the kitchen. The comforting aroma of whatever he’s cooking wraps around me like a soft blanket. I slip onto one of the chairs at the small table, pressing my hand against my still-thudding heart, willing it to calm down.

Orion ladles soup into a bowl and sets it in front of me, a slight frown tugging at his features. “I’m sorry about the kiss,” he says quietly, grabbing a spoon and placing it next to the bowl. “I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in, though my cheeks burn at the memory. More than fine, part of me wants to add, but I squash that thought. “I mean, it happened. Don’t worry about it.”

He stands across the table, arms crossed, watching me as I take a tentative sip. The soup is savory and soothing, warmth spreading through my chest. He’s not as relaxed as he was before. I can feel the tension in the air. I swallow a spoonful and decide to address it head-on.

“So, what happens now?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “How long do we have to stay holed up here while Jason is out there, doing God knows what? I hate not knowing. I want to go back to my normal life—go home. Pretend he was just a bad dream.”

Orion’s eyes flicker with something—anger, worry, maybe both. He exhales, resting his hands on the back of a chair. “I know it’s frustrating. We can’t say for sure how long this will take. It depends on the restraining order, the investigation, and whether we can actually pin something on him.”

He hesitates, then his gaze drifts back to me, more intense now. “Briar… I need to know more about Jason. About what he’s done. Did he ever—” He stops, jaw clenching like he’s trying to force the words out. “Did he ever hurt you physically?”

My stomach twists as the question hangs in the air. I stare down at my soup, stirring it absently. Memories flash through my mind: Jason’s accusations, his grip on my arm, the way he’d corner me. I press my lips together, feeling a swell of shame for letting it get that far—even though I know it wasn’t my fault.

“He never left bruises,” I say finally, voice quieter than I intend. “Not obvious ones, anyway. But there were times he… grabbed me, shoved me. It started small. I tried to convince myself I was overreacting, that he was just upset. Then it got worse. Words turned into harsher words, threats. Eventually, I realized he would never change.”

I sneak a look at Orion. His knuckles are white, gripping the chair so hard I’m worried he’ll snap the wood. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his eyes burn with anger. The protective stance he’s in radiates a kind of quiet fury—like he wants nothing more than to track Jason down and make him pay.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, his voice tight but controlled. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

I swallow hard, trying to rein in the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “It’s fine,” I murmur. “I just want him to leave me alone. Let me live my life.”

Orion rounds the table and crouches beside me, gently placing a hand on my knee. His touch calms the tremor in my chest. “He won’t hurt you again,” he says, determination lacing every syllable. “Not while I’m around.”

I manage a wobbly smile, relief and warmth flooding me in equal measure. “Thanks,” I whisper, returning my attention to the soup in front of me. My stomach is still twisted in knots, but I force myself to eat. For now, this is as normal as things get—warm soup, Orion’s comforting presence, and a fragile hope that someday soon, Jason will just be a distant memory.

My phone feels unusually heavy in my hands as it lights up for the first time in what feels like an eternity. I haven’t turned my phone on since the first day I was here, and I brace myself as the barrage of missed notifications begins to flood the screen. The constant buzzing feels like a relentless reminder of the world I've been hiding from. Jason's name pops up repeatedly among the missed calls and texts, sending a shiver down my spine. But it's the string of messages from Heidi, work, and particularly my mother that catches my attention and knots my stomach.

Heidi's texts are filled with increasing worry, her emojis ranging from concerned to downright panicked. I can almost hear her voice chattering through the messages, asking if I'm okay, if I need anything, why I'm not answering. There’s a guilt that tugs at my heart for making her worry.

The messages from work are polite, a check-in to see if I’m managing okay, a subtle nudge to let me know they’re there. It’s comforting, yet another layer of normalcy I'm not quite ready to return to.

Then, there’s my mother. Her texts escalate from concerned to demanding, each message more pointed than the last. She wants an update, details, reassurances. And, unsurprisingly, she wants to meet Orion—the man she’s paying to protect her daughter. She’s insistent on a dinner, an opportunity to size him up herself.

“Briar?” Orion’s voice, steady and calm, pulls me from the cascade of messages.

I look up, tucking my phone under a pillow reflexively as if hiding it could shield me from the responsibilities it holds. “Yeah?” My voice is more tentative than I intend.

He steps into the doorway, his own phone in hand, a shadow of concern crossing his strong features. “Dean just texted me. Your mom wants to meet.”

I nod, pulling the phone back out with a resigned sigh. “Yeah, she sent me a ton of texts. She’s... thorough. Wants to make sure you’re the right man to protect her daughter.” I roll my eyes.

Orion’s smile flickers, amused. “Guess I better be on my best behavior then.”

“It’s not just that,” I continue, feeling the weight of everything starting to press in. “She’s worried, and I guess, seeing you in person might help her feel like I’m in good hands.”

Orion walks over and leans against the back of the couch, his presence comforting. “Makes sense. When’s this dinner supposed to happen?”

I swipe through the messages, finding the one where she mentions her availability. “She’s suggesting this weekend. Says it’s non-negotiable.” I can’t help but smile at her assertiveness. It’s so typically her—caring aggressively.

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. “This weekend works. We’ll make it happen. I’ll call Dean to iron out the details and ensure everything aligns with our... precautions.”

My stomach knots slightly at the mention of precautions. It’s a stark reminder of why Orion is watching over me in the first place. Jason’s shadow looms over everything, even a simple dinner.

“So, we’re really doing this?” I ask, needing to hear it out loud.

“We are,” Orion confirms, his tone reassuring. “It’ll be good, Briar. We’ll manage it carefully, and maybe having your mom more involved will give her some peace of mind.”

I let out a slow breath, the reality settling around me. Meeting my mom under these circumstances isn’t ideal, but maybe it’s necessary. “Thanks, Orion. For everything. I know this isn’t exactly standard bodyguard duty.”

Orion chuckles softly. “You’d be surprised. Besides, I’m here to keep you safe, Briar. Whatever that requires.”

I manage a weak smile, my heart fluttering slightly at his words. There’s comfort in his commitment, a strange warmth in knowing he’s here, not just as a protector, but as someone who genuinely cares. However, I have to remind myself it’s just his job. It’s not real. He’s paid to care about me.

The conversation shifts back to the present, to the need to prepare for the dinner. I think about what I’ll wear, how I’ll act, and what I’ll say. The logistics feel overwhelming, but with Orion here, it feels just a bit more manageable.

As he steps out to make the call to Dean, I sit back on the couch, the phone still clutched in my hand. Turning it off again is tempting, but I know I can’t keep the world at bay forever. Instead, I start typing out replies—to Heidi, to work, to my mother—reaffirming that I’m okay, that I’m safe.

As I type, I try my best not to open any of Jason’s messages, however, I accidentally click on one.

Jason: Answer me, you bitch.

I snap the phone off, my nerves kicking into high gear. Orion watches me from across the room.

“You okay?” he asks me.

“Just Jason,” I say, holding up my phone.

“Can I take a look at the messages?”

I swipe my phone back on and open up Jason’s message thread. I hand it over, not looking at anything he’s sent.

Orion slides next to me on the couch, reading the messages, and I can tell he’s getting angry while reading.

“You okay?” I use his same question back on him.

“Yeah. I’m just going to screenshot some of these messages to myself.”

I smile, for all the wrong reasons. I smile because now I’ll have Orion’s phone number, which is something I should not be smiling about. However it makes me happy, and a bit more secure knowing I can get a hold of him if needs be.

He makes quick work of my phone, and slides it into my hand. “Now you can reach me if you ever need me.”

I suck in a breath, thinking about how badly I need him. I say a quick thank you, and close my eyes, wishing more than anything things could return to normal.

But I don’t think anything will ever be the same again.