Braxton's arms unwrap from around me and I immediately miss the loss of them. "Come on. Let's get you dressed." That's right. I'm naked aside from my towel. That man had grabbed my bare body had held it against my will. I had fought and struggled which did absolutely nothing. I was helpless against him and that has me shivering from head to toe. "Come on, Adri, let's get some clothes on you. You're cold." He isn't wrong but it has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. 'Hey, hey," he grabs ahold of my chin, making me look up at him. "You're okay now. There's no need to cry anymore." Am I crying? The moisture running down my cheeks suggest that I am. He wipes the tears away with his thumbs and holds my face in his large hands for a moment, features filled with what I think is concern.

He ushers me over to my dresser. At least I'm pretty sure that's where we're going because I can't take my eyes off the blood smears on my bedroom floor. Braxton asks if he can remove my towel and I numbly nod. Like we'd said earlier, one naked body is the same as any other. Him seeing me this way was just whatever to him. His hands scan over me, not in an intimate manner, but an assessing one.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" His eyes continuing skimming, looking at every single inch of me.

"No." I mean, yeah, I'll probably bruise in some places but that's about it.

"He should've never been able to touch you like that. I don't know what I would've done if he'd hurt you, Adri." He pauses for a moment, jaw tensing and features hardening. "I hope your brother flays him alive." Jesus Christ. The intensity there, the actual desire to have my brother do such a thing, scares me. "I should've checked your room before letting you go inside. I'm sorry, Adri." He caresses my hip bone and then the side of my face, eyes grazing over my body one last time before those viridescent eyes land on mine. My heart thuds then stutters at the worry and guilt in them. He leans down slightly and just before I thinks he's going to kiss me he closes his eyes then turns his head to the side. His Adam's apple bobs before pulling away from me to rummage through my dresser.

When he turns back around he has a shirt in his hand. I lift my arms over my head, letting him slip it over me. Braxton then holds out leggings. I step into them, noticing how he neglected to take out any underthings which is exactly what I would do if I were dressing myself. He surprises me though by grabbing out some thick cushy socks and placing them over my feet.

"Thank you." He nods at me as he stands back up to his full height. "Do you think you could, uhm..." I tuck my hair behind my ears and look away from him. I was going to ask him to stay the night with me because I know I won't feel safe unless he does. Do I want him to know that though— not really, no. "Never mind."

"Just ask whatever it is you're going to ask, Adriana. The answer is going to be yes to whatever it is." The look he's wearing tells me he already knows the question I want to ask. Feeling like the stubborn brat I am, not wanting to appease him, I just shrug and begin to walk away from him. "Well, if you were going to ask me to leave you alone, then you'd be sorely disappointed to hear that I won't be leaving your side for the night."

"What if I told you that I didn't want you to stay? What if I said I don't want you around?" I'd be full of complete shit and he looks like he wants to say just that.

"I'd tell you that I don't get paid to listen to you. I get paid to protect you and I just did a piss poor job of that. I do not intend on having a repeat performance this evening. So, wherever you are— I am." I have never been so happy to have someone not listen to me in my entire life. "I'm not letting you out of my sight.

"Okay." There's a part of me that wants to thank him for not leaving me alone but my pride gets the better of me. I look around the room, specifically at my discarded towel and the sanguine stained floor. "Can we please get out of here?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere but here would be ideal. Somewhere safe." At this point I don't think that's anywhere. This place was swarming with guards. How someone was able to slip in undetected, make it into my bedroom, no less, is beyond me.

"We could go watch a movie or a show in the theater room, take your mind off of things." I swallow uncomfortably thinking about what happened the last time we were in that room alone together. I haven't been in there since. "There's no windows. There's one way in and out. There's a lock on the door."

"I feel like you're trying to sell this to me."

He lets out a small chuckle. "No, I'm just trying to point out the advantages security wise to try and make you feel safer."

"So you'll lock me in and throw away the key?"

"No, I will be in the room with you while Thomas stands guard on the outside of the door."

"Just me and you alone in the theater room." What could go wrong? All of the things that went wrong before is what.

"Indeed."

"Grab my duvet."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. I want to snuggle on the big bean bag chair thing and I want my fluffy blanket. I need maximum comfort after my naked body was just manhandled by a stranger and witnessing said man get his fucking knee blown off." I deadpanned.

"Fine. You're lucky I feel guilty." He walks over to the bed and removes the thing before nodding his head to the door, signaling for us to leave. I grimace the entire way out of the room as I try to avoid the grotesque substance on the floor. "Come on, Thomas, we're off to the theater room." Thomas doesn't say anything to that, just follows suit behind the man in front of me who is carrying a massive, puffy ball of lavender and grey. 

There's so many more men in the house than had previously been and it had only been a few minutes. They all had the same serious demeanor and wore the same clothes. It was kind of creepy seeing so many of these men in my childhood home. I had been familiar with them at charity events and even at some of the fight nights my dad put together but here, where I held so many memories, it just doesn't sit with me right.

Braxton opens the door and I'm walking on numb legs to the bean bag. I plop myself down and curl up on my side before Braxton lays the fabric on top of me. The scent of it is familiar and comforting, smells like home. I wrap it around me tighter before bringing it up to my nose and taking a deeper inhale with closed eyes.

The screen in front of me comes to life as Braxton sits down in one of the recliners. He clicks on a streaming service as he props an elbow behind his head. He looks as if he were relaxing in the comfort of is own home. The fact that he's so laid back after what just happened freaks me out a tad bit.

I think back to how casually Brooks had shot that man with a look on his face that held no remorse. My brother had strode into the room looking murderous. From the sound of it my parents are much the same way. I am surrounded by people who don't mind delivering death. I had almost been taken by one of those people. Another round of quivers rolls through me thinking about how I may never feel safe ever again. I may never truly know or understand my own family.

"Doesn't seem like this blanket is doing you any good." Braxton is standing off to the side of me. He's undoing his belt and putting it beside the bean bag. He lifts the covers and slips in behind me.

"What..." My words are cut off as he wraps an arm around me, pulling my back into his front.

"Bears are warm aside from koalas it would seem."

"Aren't you supposed to be protecting me, on guard or whatever?"

"I am protecting you. You look like you're freaking out internally and I'm scared you're in partial shock." Oh. "I know you've been trying your best to push me away all damn week and you can resume doing that once everything is relatively back to normal." He had noticed that? Of course he had.

"I don't think this is part of your job description."

"Neither is fingering you but here we are." That makes me go silent because I have thought about that moment more than I care to admit. The fact that I thought about it, more specifically him, had me coming to terms with how I've become way too familiar with Braxton. I looked forward to the time we spent together. It had been something I'd begun to anticipate and that was against my rules. "Penny for your thoughts." His deep voice rumbles into the top of my hair.

"I'm not thinking much about anything."

"Whatever you say." His hold on me tightens like he'd been able to read my thoughts. "You know..." He doesn't continue.

"Do I know what?"

"I missed your loud, crass self this week." His finger traces the hem of my shirt idly. "I don't like it when you're unnaturally quiet and distant. I've kind of become accustomed to your specific brand of personality."

"You don't even know me." Though it would seem he has a pretty good understanding of how I function.

"You're right. I guess I don't." When he goes to pull away from me I instinctively grab ahold of his hand and bring it back. He does so, albeit hesitantly. "Maybe I know you better than you think." It's a groan of a whisper which has me arching, pressing the back of myself against him firmly. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Not a lot of people get to know the real me." He threads his fingers with mine and it makes my breath hitch. I can't remember the last time I held hands with anyone. "This," I squeeze his fingers with mine, "this is something I don't do." Even though I'd said the words it doesn't have me pulling away from the gesture.

"I don't do intimate things with people either, Adri. Why don't we both just chock this up to being a stressful day."

I keep my eyes on the screen, not trying to look too deeply into this situation with, "okay." Braxton doesn't answer me verbally, he lies his head against mine and holds our hands together firmly against my abdomen.

A/N:
Thoughts about Adriana and Braxton?

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