Chapter 85 If I Could Kill Them For You
Rowan
She just trembles.
Her body jerks once, then twice, and the sound that leaves her is small and broken and nothing like the sharp scream from before. I pull her tighter against me immediately, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other cradling the back of her head as I rock her without thinking.
Back and forth.
Slow.
Steady.
Like she’s something fragile.
Like she’s mine.
“It’s over,” I murmur into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
Her fingers knot into my chest, fisting into my shirt again like she’s afraid she’ll fall through the bed if she lets go. Her tears soak through the fabric, hot and relentless, and something violent blooms in my ribcage.
If I could slaughter her nightmares, I would.
If I could rip them apart with my hands and scatter them so they never found her again, I would do it without blinking.
“Shh,” I breathe, my mouth brushing her temple. “He’s not here. He’s not touching you. He never will.”
She shudders against me.
Her voice is barely audible. “He killed you.”
That does something to me.
Dark.
Ugly.
Possessive.
“I’m right here,” I say firmly, tightening my hold. “Feel me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She presses closer, and I let her. I let her climb halfway into my lap, let her bury herself into my chest like she’s trying to hide inside my ribcage. My hand moves in slow circles along her spine, thumb grazing the edge of her neck, memorizing the warmth of her skin.
If she thinks I won’t burn the world down for her peace, she hasn’t been paying attention.
Her breathing finally starts to even out. The shaking slows. The tension drains in increments until she’s limp and warm and trusting in my arms.
Trusting.
God.
That word does more damage than any blade.
Her lashes are still damp when she finally slips back under. I stay there, holding her, long after I’m sure she’s asleep. I don’t move. I don’t shift. I don’t risk waking her.
When I’m certain she’s fully out, I reach blindly for my phone on the nightstand.
Rowan: Come upstairs.
It takes less than a minute.
A knock lands softly against the door.
I don’t loosen my hold when I answer. “Come in.”
Devin steps inside, already irritated. “What do you want at—”
He stops.
His mouth closes.
His eyes drop to the bed.
To Violet curled against my chest.
To the way my arms are wrapped around her.
Surprise flickers there. Not judgment. Just… surprise.
He shuts the door quietly behind him.
“She okay?” he asks, lowering his voice.
“Nightmare,” I reply. My thumb brushes over Violet’s shoulder absentmindedly. “Bad one.”
Devin nods slowly, taking that in.
“What do you need?”
“I need you to have work attire delivered tomorrow morning,” I say. “For both women. Violet and Camille. Professional. Their sizes are in the HR files.”
Devin’s brows lift slightly. “You’re keeping them here.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“As long as necessary.”
He studies me for a second, then nods once.
“And?” he prompts.
I shift slightly, careful not to disturb Violet. She makes a soft sound but doesn’t wake.
“I need you to wire transfer eighty-seven hundred dollars to Violet’s account.”
Devin freezes.
“Excuse me?”
“For the funeral,” I say flatly. “She paid for everything.”
Suspicion flickers across his face as he glances between her and me.
“Stop that,” I say quietly.
He exhales. “I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
“I just want to make sure you’re not making emotional financial decisions,” he replies calmly.
“I am paying her back,” I say evenly. “She shouldn’t have had to drain her account for that.”
“She will absolutely lose her mind when she sees that deposit,” Devin mutters.
“I don’t care.”
“She will accuse you of trying to buy her.”
“I’m reimbursing her.”
“She will not see it that way.”
I tighten my jaw. “She can argue with me about it when she’s not falling apart.”
Devin sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I know.”
His gaze shifts again to Violet sleeping against me, her face peaceful now, her breathing even.
“She looks small,” he says quietly.
“She isn’t,” I reply immediately.
“No,” he agrees. “She isn’t.”
Silence stretches between us for a moment.
Then he clears his throat. “And the contract?”
I don’t hesitate.
“I’m going through with it.”
Devin’s eyes narrow slightly. “You’ve thought this through.”
“I have.”
“And you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“She won’t agree easily.”
A slow smirk pulls at my mouth.
“She’ll agree.”
Devin crosses his arms. “That confident?”
“I’m the only constant she has right now,” I say quietly. “The only one who hasn’t walked away. The only one who hasn’t died. The only one who can actually protect her.”
“That’s not love,” Devin says carefully.
I don’t look at him.
“I never said it was.”
He studies me longer this time.
“You think she needs you,” he says.
“I know she does.”
“And what if she doesn’t want this kind of protection?”
“She will,” I say, my voice lowering slightly. “Because she needs a man who can give her the world.”
“And if the world burns?”
My hand tightens subtly at Violet’s waist.
“Then I’ll build her a new one,” I reply. “Even if I have to burn the old one down myself.”
Devin shakes his head slowly, but there’s no real argument left in him.
“You’re not subtle anymore,” he mutters.
“I don’t need to be.”
He glances at her once more.
“She’s going to fight you.”
“She always does.”
“And you like that.”
A faint smile returns.
“Yes.”
He exhales through his nose. “I’ll arrange the transfer. And the clothes.”
“Good.”
He turns toward the door, then pauses. “Just… don’t confuse obsession with salvation.”
I meet his eyes.
“I don’t.”
He leaves quietly.
The door shuts.
The room falls silent again.
I look down at her.
Her hand has slipped into the space between us, fingers resting over my heart.
She looks peaceful now.
Unaware.
She thinks this is comfort.
She doesn’t realize this is commitment.
I brush my lips lightly over her hair.
“You’re not getting away from me,” I murmur against her temple.
Not a threat.
A certainty.
And this time when she shifts closer in her sleep, I let myself believe she doesn’t want to.