Page 46 of Filthy Secret
This.
Her.
Us.
It’s bigger than anything else I’ve ever felt. I didn’t know it could be this way. That I could feel… at all.
But it does. And I can. I don’t want to lose her. Not to some fucked-up pimp. Not because of her fucked-up, manipulative sister. I fucking refuse. If I lose her, it will be my own goddamn doing, acting like a fucking idiot. I won’t let that shit happen, though. Not again. Never again.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
RYAN
Adam is just finishing up his pancakes as we make our way back into the living room. He jumps off the chair and rushes over to me. He realizes that I’m here, finally. He didn’t notice me the first time I walked into the room, but maybe that’s a good thing.
He wraps his arms around my legs just as there is a knock on the door. It’s the front door instead of the side door, so I can safely assume it’s not my sister. But that doesn’t mean that my breath doesn’t hitch and my heart doesn’t slam against my ribs.
“Who the fuck is that?” Grover growls as he marches toward the door.
He’s still shirtless, his jeans resting low on his hips, molding perfectly to his thighs as if he’s had them for decades and they are formed perfectly to his body. I try not to ogle him, but it doesn’t work. I can’t stop the ogling.
I watch as he wrenches the door open without even looking through the peephole. I don’t understand how he can do that. Shouldn’t he at least have his gun ready or something? But he is like Hercules, Superman, maybe, and his body is made of steel, or at least he thinks it is.
Untouchable.
Impenetrable.
Except he’s not.
He’s human, just like I am, and if something happened to him, Adam and I would be alone in this world. More alone than we were in Harmony Springs. More alone than I felt driving away from him six years ago.
Because he would never come back. He would never find us, and all hope would be lost.
Gone forever.
As the door opens, I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable, but he lets out a guffaw and so does the person on the other side of the doorway. I don’t know who it is based on the laugh, but I let out a sigh of relief anyway that it isn’t someone out to hurt him or me.
“Come on in,” Grover murmurs, stepping to the side to allow whoever is there to walk into the room.
I’m taken aback by the figure. The man looks a bit weathered, a little older than I remembered, but he still looks great. In fact, he looks better than great. When his eyes find mine, they light up instantly, and he marches straight for me, wrapping his arms around me in a hug so big that my feet are lifted from the floor.
“Legs Turner,” he announces. “You look fuckin’ great, babe.”
“Nash Stanley,” I whisper against his ear.
He lets me down to the floor, releasing me as he takes a step backward, his eyes searching mine as he chuckles. “You look better than ever, Ryan. Didn’t think that shit was possible.”
Looking around him, I try to find Grover’s father taking up the rear, the way he always seemed to be doing when they were together, and they were always together.
“You won’t see him, babe,” he murmurs.
“Dad passed away three years ago,” Grover announces.
My heart squeezes. I didn’t know. Of course I didn’t know. I hadn’t even thought it was possible, let alone that it could happen. Grover’s father was larger than life, a big man who was untouchable by anything bad in life—especially death.
Nash sinks down on a knee beside me. “Who’s this little guy?” he asks.