She wrapped her arms around her middle, moving closer to where Logan’s shoulder rested on the doorframe. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you do for me. Don’t think I don’t realize I need you.” Her words faltered a bit and she forced herself to look into his eyes, not the way his casual posture belied his determination. “But this is Morgan. He’s no danger to me.” She reached forward, hooking a finger into the hem of his shirt. “Not anymore.”
It was the touch that did it, she was almost sure. Though it might have been the way she’d spoken, or the memory of the last battle. Even the moments they’d shared in her mother’s cell, where Morgan had held her for the last days of her life. But something in Logan’s gaze softened, and he said, “I’ll be right here.”
She leaned closer, brushing a soft kiss over his lips, and said, “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”
He sighed, straightening. “You’re turning me into a complete pushover, Brianna Drake.”
There was a snicker from the end of the hall and Brianna smiled, patting Logan’s arm on her way past. Her hand didn’t hesitate in the least as she opened the door to the prison that held her mother’s killer.
Chapter Fifteen
Aern
Aern had told Kara first. Word would quickly spread that Brendan had been found, but the whispers would say rescued, not ruined. Not broken. Aern had known Kara would want to do her grieving in private, that she’d not admit how the loss had affected her, and that she’d not want his company. Not after learning the man she’d wanted for so many years was nothing but a shell. And not from Aern, the one person she could find to blame aside from Morgan. The one person she’d never understood in the least.
Kara was a woman of duty, but her wishes, her beliefs tended to influence her command decisions more often than not. It was why she’d held Aern accountable, why she’d not understood why he couldn’t have simply created the bond with Brianna and let the Division win. They’d been wrong, it would have never worked that way, but it didn’t matter. Kara would never forget the idea that Aern had abandoned them, even if she didn’t say it out loud. And Aern would always treat her as well as any of his soldiers, despite the fact that he’d long since suspected she left Council for what the Division had to offer, not because what Morgan was doing was wrong.
“Mr. Archer,” Ava said, inclining her head in greeting as she passed him in the hall.
Aern nodded at the woman in return, pausing momentarily before he knocked on Ellin’s door. They’d given Ellin one of the suites to recover in, and her voice was faint as she called out from the room within the apartment. As he opened the lever, he replied to let her know it was him and that he could come back later.
“No,” she said. “Please, I’m just… still resting.”
He walked through the front room, a pastel gray accented in navy and silver, pausing again at the entrance to her bedroom. She pushed herself up on a myriad of white pillows, legs hidden beneath a pale lavender comforter. “Please, come in.” She gestured to a carved wooden chair near the side of her bed, and Aern took note of the many books and pastries and half-empty cups of tea at her bedside table. Ellin had taken care of the Division soldiers, and it looked like they were repaying the kindness.
He rested on the narrow padded seat, which placed the worst of her injuries on his side. She’d had some time to recover, but the damage was extensive. Her cheekbone was still bruised and puffy, and raised pink scars curled along her jawline and ear. Aern had been told of the other injuries, the internal issues that the surgeon had found, broken bones, severed muscle and nerves that would take longer to heal. But none of that was probably weighing on her as much as having to watch as Brendan was tortured, lying helpless while those same men destroyed her ability to fight back.
Her eyes were clear, though, when he asked, “How are you?”
“You’re here to tell me about Brendan,” she said, pushing up further, straightening to see better past her still-healing right eye.
The hope in her expression made it clear she’d already heard those rumors he’d feared, made it harder to tell her what he’d come to say. They could have let this go, let everyone feel the relief of having Brendan back, let them see for themselves when he’d recovered. But Brianna had wanted it done now, because they needed to understand. To be prepared for the shadows. And because losing Brendan twice would be too hard.