Page 13

Briar

I can’t stop staring at Orion. When my mother and father were asking him about how he plans to keep me safe, all I could think about is how this alpha hero is never wavering in his protection of me. It’s like I’m the most important thing in his orbit. I personally don’t get it, but I feel like Orion would take a bullet for me if the situation were ever to arise.

Oh god, I hope that situation never arises.

Yet, here I am, the most important thing to Orion, and I have to keep reminding myself that I’m only a job to him. Right? This is what he’s trained to do. Assess every danger. Keep me safe.

“You got any personal items of Jason’s?” Orion asks me as we drive back to his place, interrupting my inner monologue.

“I have a few things back at my place. Old pictures, stuff like that.”

He nods. “We’re going to swing by there and get it. I want to know everything there is to know about this motherfucker.”

The way he speaks makes my body shake with need. We’re talking about nothing normal, and I should hate the subject, but the way his voice is low and all growly, turns me on. What would it be like to have this beast of a man pounding deep inside me?

I bet he likes control. I bet he’d be a little rough. With a gentleness too. I hate thinking about the fact that he’s probably slept with hundreds of women before me. Maybe even more.

“What’s going through your head over there?” he asks me as he navigates the streets to my place.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Dinner was nice, right?”

He glances at me briefly before returning his focus back on the road in front of him. “No.”

“No?” I cut in.

“Let me finish,” he smiles lightly, “I said, no, what were you thinking about?”

My cheeks flush. I can’t tell him I was thinking about the way he’d fuck me if given the chance.

“Oh, nothing.”

He pulls into the parking lot of my apartment building and parks the SUV. He turns toward me, resting his hand on my knee. “It wasn’t nothing. Were you thinking about Jason?”

I laugh. “That was by far the furthest thing from my mind.”

His eyes search mine, like he’s searching for answers. He finally drops it, and removes his hand from my knee. “Let’s get in and get out. I don’t want to be here any longer than we need to.”

I nod. “Right,” I say, remembering why we’re here.

Jason and I weren’t together for very long, a few months, so it’s not like I have tons of keepsakes of our time together. However, I have a few things that might be helpful.

I unlock the door to my apartment, the familiar click echoing through the dark, empty hallway. It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve been here, but it feels like years since I last walked over this threshold. My stomach twists with a mixture of unease and nostalgia.

I glance up at Orion, who’s standing behind me, quietly surveying the surroundings. He flicks on a nearby lamp, and a soft, amber glow illuminates the small living room. Everything looks exactly as I left it. Like time has stood still while I was away.

“It’s weird being here. I’m sort of on edge,” I say softly, my gaze traveling around the space. I can’t shake the feeling that any moment, Jason might appear from behind a corner, or show up at the front door demanding answers. It’s irrational, but that’s my reality right now—constant fear.

“You’re safe. I’m here and won’t let anything happen to you,” Orion replies, his voice low and reassuring. He closes the door behind us and flicks the deadbolt shut. I watch him pocket the key, his movements smooth and controlled. “We’ll grab what we need and get out.”

I nod, remembering why we’re here. Dean and Orion both suggested I gather any old photos, notes, or gifts from Jason, in case we need evidence or a timeline. Part of me doesn’t want to hold onto anything that reminds me of him, but another part knows this could help build a stronger case.

I lead Orion through the living room and down the short hallway to my bedroom. The overhead light sputters when I flip the switch, and the coziness of my bed, with its mismatched pillows and blankets, hits me in an unexpected wave of longing. This was my haven. But now, I can’t ignore the tension seizing my gut as I recall how Jason used to barge in whenever he wanted, picking fights about me “ignoring” him or not being quick enough to respond to his messages. My safe space was never truly safe with him around.

“I think there’s a photo in my nightstand,” I say, crossing the room to rummage through the drawer. My fingertips graze against old receipts, random pens, and the occasional chapstick until they land on a small, slightly bent photograph. “Here,” I add, pulling out a snapshot of Jason and me from a few months ago.

I stare at it for a moment before handing it to Orion. Jason’s arm is slung around my shoulder; I’m smiling, but the grin doesn’t reach my eyes. I remember that day. He’d been sweet earlier, buying me a little stuffed parrot from a gift shop, but that sweetness evaporated the moment he got jealous of a guy who asked me for directions. How many times did he switch from Jekyll to Hyde in the blink of an eye? I quickly shove the memory aside.

Orion takes the photo carefully, studying Jason’s face like he’s committing it to memory. I watch his brows knit together, that protective glint in his eyes intensifying. “Any more?” he asks, voice soft but firm.

I shrug, hugging myself. “I’m not sure. Maybe a couple in an old shoe box in the closet.”

“Let’s gather up everything, just in case,” he suggests, then gently places the photo on my nightstand. It feels like such a small, innocent thing, yet it carries so much of my past—one I’m still trying to fully escape.

I sift through my closet next, pulling out boxes and rummaging through old notebooks, trinkets, and birthday cards from my mom. Orion stands near the door, arms folded, quietly observing. Every so often, I look his way, grateful for his presence and the subtle sense of safety he brings just by being here.

“You know,” he says at one point, “I didn’t realize how far your bird obsession actually goes. You’ve got all these bird plushies and pictures. Where’d that interest come from?”

I pause, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’ve always loved animals, but there’s something about birds—their freedom, their ability to fly anywhere they want. My dad used to take me to this aviary when I was a kid, and I’d just stand there for hours, transfixed by them. I guess it stuck.”

He nods, stepping forward to help me lift a particularly heavy box, setting it on the floor with ease. “Well, it’s a noble passion. You’re doing good work with them.”

I feel a flush of warmth at his words, surprising me with how much I crave his approval. “I don’t know if it’s noble. It’s just… what I love to do,” I murmur, brushing dust off the shoebox now perched on my knees.

“You love it enough to make it your career,” he points out. “That’s something.”

There’s genuine admiration in his tone that catches me off-guard. I swallow, focusing on flipping the lid open. “So, what about you?” I ask, trying to shift the spotlight away from my own vulnerabilities. “What got you started in… well, protecting people?”

A hint of a smile crosses his lips. “I was in law enforcement. I guess once you’re used to watching your partners’ backs, it’s hard to get that out of your system. When I met Dean he offered me a job, and I wanted to use those skills in a way that felt meaningful—protecting people who need it.”

I pause, looking up at him, my curiosity piqued. “What was it like being a cop?”

His gaze hardens for a split second, as though a shutter closes behind his eyes. “Dangerous,” he answers simply. “But also eye-opening. You learn a lot about human nature, both the good and the bad.” He shifts his weight, and I sense there’s a lot he’s not saying. “It taught me discipline, taught me to trust my instincts.”

I pick up on the tension in his shoulders. “Did you… did you ever have to…?” I trail off, not sure how to finish.

“Kill people?” he says it for me, his jaw tightening. My breath catches. I hate that I’m so curious, but part of me needs to know.

“Yes.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

He inhales a long, measured breath. “Yes,” he says, meeting my gaze head-on. “It’s something you never truly forget.”

A chill snakes down my spine. I search his face, but he doesn’t look away. “I’m sorry,” I say, not sure what else to offer. It feels inadequate, like I’m apologizing for something that was forced upon him by circumstance.

“You don’t need to be,” he replies gently. “It was my job. I did what I had to do to keep people safe. Still… it changes you.”

Our eyes lock for a moment, a shared understanding that life can be cruel, and choices aren’t always easy. Maybe that’s why he’s so protective now , I think. He knows what real danger looks like.

I clear my throat, returning my attention to the shoebox. Inside, I find another small Polaroid—just Jason alone, leaning against a car. I pluck it out, grimacing at the memory of how that day ended in a shouting match because I took too long talking to a friend. He always found a reason to be angry. I hand it to Orion wordlessly.

He slips it into an envelope, and I turn to check if there’s anything else worth taking. A second later, a faint noise pricks my ears—a crunch or a scrape from outside. My entire body goes rigid.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper, my eyes darting toward the window. It’s dark out, the streetlamp casting long shadows across the pavement.

Orion immediately goes on alert. His posture straightens, and he sets the envelope down, placing a finger to his lips to signal for silence. My heart thuds painfully. I watch him cross to the light switch, flicking it off to keep us hidden from whoever might be outside. The sudden darkness in the room sends my senses into overdrive; every little sound seems amplified.

“Lock this door behind me,” he whispers, nodding toward the bedroom door. “Stay put.”

My voice trembles, but I manage to speak. “Be careful.”

He offers a tight smile, then reaches behind his back. To my shock, he pulls a gun from under his jacket. The faint metallic gleam catches the dim light coming from the hallway. My stomach drops. Of course he’s armed. He’s my bodyguard, I remind myself, but seeing the weapon in his hands drives home the seriousness of the situation.

Orion edges into the hallway, moving silently. I peer around the doorway, heart hammering. “Lock the door,” he repeats, motioning with his hand. Reluctantly, I close the door and twist the flimsy bedroom lock with a click. It feels woefully inadequate to keep out any real threat, but it’s all I have.

Adrenaline surges through me as I listen for sounds of struggle or confrontation. My ears strain, picking up only the pounding of my own heart. I inch closer to the window, careful not to expose myself, and peek outside. The yard is dark, illuminated only by the glow of a distant streetlight. A silhouette flickers at the brink of my vision. I yank my head back, pulse skyrocketing. Is that Jason? My entire body trembles.

Seconds tick by like hours. I hear the distant sound of Orion’s footsteps, a creak of the back door. A hush falls, broken only by a muffled rustling outside. My imagination runs wild. Could it be a raccoon? A neighbor out late? Or is it Jason, lurking, waiting for the chance to catch me alone?

The door to my bedroom rattles softly. I nearly jump out of my skin until I realize it’s Orion. I scramble to unlock it. He steps inside, still holding the gun at his side. He’s breathing a bit heavier, but he looks composed.

“I checked the perimeter,” he says quietly, eyes flicking around the room to be sure we’re still secure. “No sign of anyone. Might’ve been a stray cat or an animal rummaging around.”

I let out a long, shaky exhale, relief washing over me in a dizzying wave. “God, I’m paranoid,” I mutter, though a part of me isn’t sure if it really was an animal or if he’s just trying to spare me the worry.

Orion lifts a hand, gently resting it on my shoulder. “You’re not paranoid. You’ve got every reason to be uneasy. But I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

I look up, my gaze snagging on the gun in his hand. Swallowing hard, I nod. “Thank you.”

He slips the weapon back into its holster, hidden beneath his jacket. His presence calms me in a way I can’t quite explain, like an anchor in a storm. Finally, he looks around the room, exhaling slowly. “Let’s finish up here. The sooner we’re out, the better.”

I agree. We gather the last few items—letters, random scribblings Jason once left in my mailbox. Each piece feels like a fragment of a nightmare I desperately want to forget, but I remind myself it’s important to have this evidence. The legal system thrives on proof, after all.

When we’re done, Orion carefully packs the items into a small envelope. I linger by the bedroom window, still peering through the narrow gap in the curtains. The parking lot remains empty, the shadows still. My heart rate finally starts to settle, though an unsettling residue of fear clings to me like a stubborn stain.

“Let’s go,” Orion says, his tone gentle but firm. “We’ve got what we need.”

I nod and follow him out, switching off the lights as we move through the apartment. Each step away from this place feels like a step away from the ghosts of my past, from the suffocating grip Jason once held on my life.

We pause at the front door. Orion checks the lock, then double-checks it. I appreciate the thoroughness, the way he leaves no detail to chance. As we step into the cool night air, I chance a glance back at the apartment. The windows stare back at me like vacant eyes, revealing nothing but darkness inside. I can almost picture Jason’s face in them, but I push the image away.

Orion nudges me softly, offering a reassuring smile. “You okay?”

I inhale, then exhale slowly. “Yeah,” I say, surprising myself with how steady I sound. “I’m okay.”

He presses a hand to my lower back, guiding me toward the SUV. We climb inside, and as he starts the engine, I find myself whispering a silent goodbye to the life I had here. Maybe I’m running away, or maybe I’m finally moving on. Either way, it’s progress, and with Orion at my side, I feel like I might just make it out of this mess in one piece.