The Price Of Protection

Chapter 6: Garrett's POV

The deal was supposed to be one of the biggest this quarter. The kind that would seal my standing in the underworld, where power wasn't given, but was seized by whomever had balls of steel. But while seated in that sleek conference room and surrounded by men in their tailored suits, words about profit and risks faded to white noise.

My mind was elsewhere.

Thorne.

The thought of not making today's rehabilitation session really gnawed at me. Over the last couple of weeks, I have never made it a habit not to be there, supporting him, filling the gaps in the silences with all manner of forced jokes, just looking at him pushing the pain away. But not today.

I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable in a way I wasn't used to. For someone like me, whose life was built on control and calculation, the pull to be with him-this strange need to make sure he was okay-felt foreign.

A sudden buzz on the table jolted me, snatching my attention back to the present. My phone lit up with a name I didn't expect to see: Thorne.

For a moment, I stared at the screen, unsure of why my heart had decided to pick up speed. I quickly unlocked the phone, reading the message:

"Hey. Everything okay? Are you safe?"

The simplicity of the words caught me off guard. He was checking on me? A man who barely remembered me, who had no reason to care, had gone out of his way to ask if I was okay.

I typed back immediately, fingers flying across the screen way faster than my thoughts. "Everything's fine. Just stuck in a boring meeting. How are you?"

Those minutes of waiting for his reply stretched unbearably long. When it finally came, I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "I'm good. The session went well. I have good news to share when you're back."

Good news? My curiosity flared, and suddenly, the deal in front of me seemed even less significant. I barely waited for the meeting to end before I was on my feet, delegating the follow-up to my subordinates.

The drive to the hospital felt longer than usual, but when I finally walked into Thorne's room, the sight of him made the tension in my chest ease.

He was seated on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but alert, and his golden-brown hair still moist from what I presumed to be a just-ended shower. The sun streaming through the window gave a warm feel to his skin and a brightness to his blue-gray eyes.

"You look happy," I said, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Thorne looked up, a faint smile curving his lips. "Garrett. You're back."

The way he said my name-soft, hesitant, like he was still growing used to trusting me-hit me harder than I expected.

"I couldn't wait to hear the news," I said, stepping closer. "What's the good news?"

He hesitated, savoring the moment, before saying, "The doctor says I'll be discharged tomorrow. They think I'm ready to leave."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. My brain struggled to process them, and before I could think, I crossed the room and pulled him into a hug.

"That's amazing, Thorne!" My voice was rough with emotion, a rawness I hadn't anticipated. "I'm so proud of you."

He stiffened at first, clearly unused to such physical closeness, but after a moment, his hands awkwardly patted my back. “Yeah… it feels good. I’m ready.”

But was I?

The reality of what this meant hit me all at once. Thorne would be moving back into the penthouse-the place I had claimed was "ours" when I fabricated the story of us being boyfriends. The lie had seemed harmless at the time, a means to keep him close and gain his trust.

But now…

It meant more than just a place lived in: it meant being there, day in and day out, pretending to care in ways I wasn't sure I knew how to. I had never been in a real relationship before-only fleeting, superficial flings that ended before they began.

I released him, forcing a smile to mask the panic bubbling under the surface. "I'll make sure everything's ready for you," I said lightly. "You won't have to lift a finger."

Thorne's gaze softened, his smile growing just a little. "Thanks… for everything, Garrett. I don't know what I'd do without you.

I'd been punched in the gut. He was trusting me, relying on me, and I didn't know the first thing about living up to that.

That night, back at the penthouse, I sat alone in my study, my thoughts a whirlwind. The weight of what was to come pressed heavily on me. I needed to make this believable-for both our sakes. Thorne deserved more than a half-hearted effort, even if my feelings hadn't quite caught up to the act.

I opened my laptop, staring at the blank search bar for a long moment before typing: * “How to be the perfect boyfriend.”

The results flooded the screen—articles, forums, advice columns. Each click led me deeper into a world I’d never cared to explore.

“Communicate openly.”

“Show acts of kindness.”

“Be attentive to their needs.”

It all sounded straightforward enough, but with each tip, I felt more out of my depth. My life had never required emotional vulnerability. I had mastered manipulation, control, and strategy—but this? This was foreign territory.

I leaned back in my chair, frustrated, and ran a hand through my hair. None of this was helping. What I needed was something concrete, something on which I could act. Then, as I scrolled further, a suggestion caught my eye:

"Read romance novels to understand what love looks like in action."

It sounded ridiculous, but desperation overrode pride. I clicked onto a bookstore website and began scrolling through its romance section. The titles and covers differed-some sweet, others fiery-but they all promised the same thing: a vision of what love might look like.

I put a stack of them into my cart, trying to block out that nagging little voice inside my head, which questioned what I was doing.

As I finished placing the order, I caught my reflection in the screen. Garrett Cullen, crime lord, feared by most, now rummaging through romance novels for answers. The thought should have made me laugh, but instead, it made me feel…hollow.

Because the truth was, this wasn't just about keeping up a façade anymore.

I stared and stared at the confirmation email, my eyes running over words that blurred into nonsensical jargon as my head swirled to try to grasp how to feel.

I wasn't in love with Thorne-not yet, anyway. Still, the way he trusts me, the way he looked at me with that quiet vulnerability. it started to wear through a little less like an act and a lot more like something I wanted to shield and protect.

It was crazy. It was dangerous. But it was also real.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't so sure if I was ready for that.