Page 114 of Stolen Faith
Brennon considered that for a moment. “You don’t have to do that anymore. We won’t let you.”
Rowan smiled at Brennon, a look of genuine fondness passing between them. “I wish I could be like you, Brennon.”
And then, Brennon—thank God—did what he did best. He found a way to turn on a light in the darkness. He snorted. “Oh yeah? Which part? My two-pack abs? My killer Dungeon Master skills? Because trust me when I say…” Brennon did the mind-blown gesture to make his point. “Oh wait, it’s the Star Wars figurines collection, isn’t it? Thought I saw you light up when I mentioned them. Maybe you can help me convince…” He lifted one hand, pretending to block Izabel’s view, while he pointed a finger at her behind it. “To let me display them in our house.”
“Man cave,” Izabel said, fighting not to laugh. “You can display them in the man cave.”
Brennon’s eyes lit up and he lifted a fist that Rowan bumped. “You hear that? I just scored us a man cave.”
The three of them laughed.
Laughter through tears. It felt good.
She cupped Brennon’s cheek affectionately. “You’re an amazing man.”
Brennon tilted his head, giving her a look that suggested she’d grown a second head.
“You sell yourself short all the time, but there were moments in that cabin when, God, you got me out of my head, distracted me from the danger long enough that I could regroup, find my footing again,” Rowan added. “You didn’t shy away from grabbing Barry either. I said go, and you were there, covering my six. I knew I could count on you.”
“I’m not going to lie. Racing out there, watching you grab Barry like that, well, if I hadn’t been so dehydrated, I probably would have pissed myself.”
They all chuckled.
Rowan cupped the back of Brennon’s neck. “Yeah well, remind me once we’re all healed up and have a few—dozen—therapy sessions under our belt, to teach you how to hold a gun on a prisoner. And to not keep your finger on the trigger. And how to check the safety.”
“Dude, I’m a writer, not a fighter.”
“I think you’re both,” Izabel said, kissing Brennon on the cheek.
Rowan agreed. “No matter how bad shit gets, you don’t wallow. You find silver linings, use your humor and compassion to pull up everyone around you.”
“To be fair, that stuff is easy to do when you’ve never really been in horrible situations. My life’s been pretty tame. At least until…” Brennon stopped, and Izabel studied the bruises on his face. Brennon, like her, had never suffered true pain and terror until this week, while Rowan looked like he’d seen enough to last him a lifetime.
And while there was still that mischievous twinkle in Brennon’s eyes, it seemed just a bit dimmer now than it had when they’d first met.
She felt tears streaming down her cheeks once more, but these weren’t for her. They were for these two incredible men.
Brennon placed a soft kiss on the side of her head, then leaned to the side to give Rowan the same.
“Stronger together,” he whispered in Rowan’s ear, repeating the words he’d used to bolster them in the cabin.
Rowan nodded. “Together.”
God. To think she’d worried about being a linchpin.
They were a true trinity.
Izabel buried her face in Brennon’s neck again and while there were no more great heaving sobs, she didn’t bother to stem the quiet tears, these driven less by fear and more by sadness, relief, even gratitude that they were alive and free.
After a while, she closed her eyes, swamped by emotion and exhaustion. Not exactly an uplifting combination.
She had no idea how much time had passed, but by the time she’d pulled herself together and opened her eyes, she realized they were in the air.
“Did I fall asleep?” Izabel lifted her head, looking at Brennon curiously.
“I think so. Not more than half an hour though. The flight attendant isn’t too happy with us. Apparently, she takes the seat belt thing pretty seriously, but since we got off the ground with no troubles, I figure she’ll forgive us.”
“I’m sorry I fell apart like—”