Aslin waited. He knew there was more in her heart. Whether she wanted to share it now was a different matter.
“We came home while it was happening,” she continued, her voice soft. “We’d all been to the movies. There were three of them in the house. They knocked Mom out with Dad’s baseball bat as she walked through the door and beat the shit out of Dad before Chris or I could do a thing. Then they tied us to a chair and…attacked Mom while she was still unconscious, beat her with the bat when she came to, laughing the whole time. When they got tired of that, when she was unconscious again, they untied me…”
Aslin’s gut rolled. Cold fury turned the blood in his veins to ice. He didn’t say a word.
“Someone must have called the cops though, one of our neighbours maybe, because before they could do…what they were going to do to me…the sirens came and they took off.”
She looked back at her brother, now standing at the counter, signing for the bill. Or maybe an autograph. From where Aslin stood at the door with Rowan, he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. Not when the horror in Rowan’s emotionless voice kept him rooted to the spot. Not with the dead rage thrumming through his body.
“Mom died in my arms. Chris sat tied to the chair watching it all. They never caught the bastards that did it.”
She swallowed. Aslin could see her throat work. And then she turned and looked up at him with eyes that shone with a bone-deep grief he knew he could never truly fathom. A grief he wanted to take away from her. “So he hides behind the laughter. It protects him.”
“And what protects you?”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth at Aslin’s low question. “I don’t need protecting.”
He wanted to tell her she was wrong. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until every moment of pain and agony and fear in her soul was gone.
Instead, he tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his face.
“Please don’t,” she whispered. A second later, she rose onto tip toe and placed her lips on his.
The kiss was simple and gentle and over before Aslin could slide his arms around her body. But it was enough. Enough for him to know he was never letting this woman go. Whether she liked it or not, he was protecting her for the rest of her life.
“I love this place.” Chris suddenly appeared at their side, his grin wide. “Where else in the world can you order the country’s national emblem for lunch?”
Rowan pulled away from Aslin, her cheeks pink, her gaze shifting from Aslin’s. “I still can’t believe you ate kangaroo. Have you no heart.”
“I did eat kangaroo.” Chris rubbed at his stomach as they walked from the restaurant out on the esplanade. “And it was delicious. Grilled to perfection.” He nudged his sister with his shoulder. “You know what makes the whole thing ironic though, sis?”
Rowan cast him a dubious look.
“I’m getting my photo taken tomorrow at the zoo with a kangaroo. A live one.”
Rowan let out a groan. “Oh God, you’re going to burn in Hell. You know that, r—”
“Chris Huntley!” A high-pitched squeal cut her short. “Look, it’s Chris Huntley!”
Chris burst out laughing. Rowan groaned again, and Aslin prepared himself for the group of teenage girls—all dressed in school uniform—frozen to the spot a few feet away, their enrapt stares locked on the actor.
Fifteen minutes later, during which Chris signed everything thrust at him by the girls, along with posing for so many photos Aslin lost track, Rowan gave Aslin a quick glance.
“This is all your fault,” she muttered, her arms folded over her breasts.
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“He feels safe with you around. It’s the only reason I can come up with for his behaviour. Normally he tries to avoid this kind of thing. He’d never admit it, but it makes him nervous.”
Aslin looked back at the young man surrounded by giggling teenage girls and tried to imagine what it would be like to exist as a sitcom star in a world filled with such personal horror. He couldn’t do it.
“Thank you for that,” Rowan murmured. She frowned up at him. “I think.”
The sound of a car horn behind them made them both jump. Aslin bit back a growl. He’d never been so disconnected to his surroundings as he’d been today. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was thoroughly distracted.
Huh. That’s an understatement, boyo.
“Nigel wants Chris back on set, Rowan,” Jeff called from the open driver’s side window of the SUV they’d arrived in. “Said there’s been a problem with the dormitory scene and he needs to reshoot something.”