Shattered by You (Tear Asunder 3)

“Just stop for a sec,” he growled. “Haven, seriously, what the fuck?”

My voice vibrated from the cold. “I want to be alone. Get your hands off me. Now.”

“You’ve been alone for months.” The thunder drowned out the force of his words, but I felt the deep rumble from his chest sink into my back.

The intensity of the rain picked up as we lay silent and still for a minute, as if both of us were deciding our next best move. Physically fighting against those who were stronger was pointless. All it did was weaken you. Instead, I made it an inner battle, taking my mind to another place. And that was how I won. That was how I survived.

But Crisis holding me, the wind whistling around us, horrific memories looming but unable to touch me as I lay protected in his arms . . . it made me want to stay. To be that little girl who sang to herself in the closet, her brother always near to protect her.

Yeah, well, singing didn’t hack it anymore. It hadn’t in a long time.

“How did you find me?” It was close to midnight, in the pouring rain, the only light offered from the lightning and . . . my reflective jacket. Shit, that’s how he saw me.

“Saw movement out in the field as I drove up to the house. I thought one of the horses freaked in the storm and escaped the barn. If I let you go, are you going to run?”

Was I? Maybe, but I wouldn’t tell him that. I also didn’t lie, so I stayed silent. Few people realized what a powerful weapon silence was. I knew.

Our chests rose and fell in perfect rhythm. I parted my lips and wetness slipped into my mouth. I relished the sweet sensation of the cool rain sliding down my throat.

“Haven?” He squeezed me. “Is this what you’ve been doing when you disappear all the time? Running?”

I waited for the flash of light to fork across the sky, the power in its grasp able to kill, maim or set fire. I had that in me. The ability to kill without remorse, without thought. It was beauty and destruction, like me.

His fingers linked with mine on my abdomen, just above where the gun sat hidden in my jacket. “Open field. Thunderstorm. Not the smartest time to be running.”

No, but the power it conveyed sunk into me with every roar of thunder, every flash of light lending me its strength to fight the memories.

He sat up, bringing me with him so I was between his bent legs, his thighs caging me in. “Don’t take off,” he whispered as his arms released me, but not completely. Instead, he slid his hands down my arms to my hands that now rested on my thighs. “Jesus, you’re freezing. We need to get you out of the rain and dried off.”

But I wasn’t ready yet. I still had monsters lurking. The memories and emotions weren’t shoved away in the little compartments of my mind. “Not yet.”

“Yeah, yet.” He shuffled back and came to his feet, then moved around to stand in front of me.

I remained sitting on the ground, watching him, assessing what he was going to do next. I’d learned to read people, guess their next move before they made it.

He reached out his hand, the ink on his tatted arm vivid from the rain.

“Take it or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.” His hand was steady and strong. “Not leaving you out here, Haven.”

If I laughed, which I didn’t, it would’ve been then because he’d never get me over his shoulder. Not before I had a gun in his face.

And there it was, the set jaw, the narrowed eyes, the lowering of his brows—determination. I knew when someone wasn’t going to concede.

Since I’d been on the farm, I’d kept my distance from everyone, but I watched, always watched. From what I’d seen of Crisis, he was laid back, playful and flirted religiously. But with that came confidence and perseverance.

I suspected Crisis wouldn’t back down from much, if anything. And as he towered over me, a soaking wet mass of muscled strength, I knew he’d attempt to pick me up and carry me back to the house if I didn’t take his hand. So, my options were take his hand, or take out my gun. Option two led to my brother finding out. And that would lead to the tour being cancelled because he found out I carried a gun and was running in a violent thunderstorm.

Ream would give up everything for me. He had. Even parts of himself he could never get back. But when I looked at him now, he’d found peace with what he’d endured as a teenager. I’d never take that away.

I’d tackle my own demons.

I reached up and Crisis’ hand grabbed mine. He pulled me to my feet to stand inches away from him. My eyes slid over his face as the lightning flashed across the sky. I looked for the familiar ease in his expression that I’d found myself searching for every time I saw him. It was comforting, warm, and radiated an energy that sparked something inside me.

But it wasn’t there this time. Instead, his eyes were dark to match his harsh expression. I lowered my gaze to stare at the small space between our feet. Not because I feared him or gave into him, but because acting compliant led to an advantage over your opponent; it let down their guard.

“Your brother’s home.” My brother and Kat had gone to Logan and Emily’s farm down the road. From what I’d overheard, the girls wanted to discuss wedding plans and the guys were working on lyrics for a new song. “He’ll freak if he sees you.” My eyes darted to his and my breath locked in my chest. Crisis knew I wouldn’t want Ream to see me like this.

“Then why make me go?” Make was a strong word, used for his benefit. The reality was he couldn’t make me do anything.