To Carry You

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Cameron

Alara had a habit of falling asleep in the car. It must be the soft thrum of the engine lulling her to a better sleep than any bed ever could. 

She snuggled into the seat using her arms as a makeshift pillow and my leather jacket as a blanket. She curled into it pulling it over her bare shoulders. On the way to the car she had told me how Dane wanted her to wear the strapless red dress she was in. But Alara being Alara had defied the instruction by wearing her leggings beneath it. It still meant her shoulders were exposed so she used my jacket for warmth. 

It was hard to keep my eyes on the road, as I felt the constant need to make sure she was ok. That she wouldn't have another nightmare. It felt irrational that anything could happen to her when I was right there when she was within arms reach when it would just take one movement for my hand to be in hers. 

She was ok and I needed to convince myself of that. 

This time when we arrived home, I didn't have the heart to wake her. She seemed some peaceful, her perfect lips drawn into a dreamy smile. I unbuckled my seat belt and reached over to the other side of the car. As quietly as I could I pulled her door open, trying my best to block the cool air from hitting her with my body. 

I reached over her and undid her seatbelt, the soft rush of the seatbelt band flicking back to his position near the door almost waking her, but thankfully she didn't.

Ever so carefully, I wrapped one arm underneath her curved legs and the other around her back. She was incredibly light, a slip of a girl so very small in my arms. I held her close, as I carried her towards the warmth of the house. 

Still holding her firmly against me, I reached into my pockets and fished out my keys, it was a little dark making it hard to find the keyhole but I managed it. And soon we were both over the threshold back home. 

She murmured against me pressing her face closer to my chest as she sighed heavily, eyelids fluttering just slightly before she slipped back into a slumber.

Ever so carefully I carried her up the stairs and into our room. I laid her down on the bed and tucked her in, she looked comfortable and at rest so I left her alone to catch up on some much needed sleep. I glanced back one final time before gently closing the door. 

I was far too worked up to be able to sleep myself, so I set myself on a task that I had almost forgotten to do. 

Sitting in my office, I pulled out my phone and dialled Theodore Mortello, he answered immediately. 

"Have you found her yet, Grayson," his voice was harsh and full of an undercurrent of concern. 

"Yes, I found her, she's sleeping at the moment but she's fine." I responded dragging a hand through my hair and letting out a heavy sigh. 

"Who had her?" his done was dangerously temperamental. 

"Dane Laurier."

"That bastard," Theo muttered, "I'm going to kill him."

"I don't think that would be the best idea," I begrudgingly responded. 

"What? He needs to pay for what he did," Theo gritted out. 

"You would be declaring war on all the Bloodhounds by doing so,"

"He declared war by kidnapping my sister,"

"Your gang is in no shape to survive a war," I tried to reason with him.

"But yours is, this was an attack on you as much as it was on us," his voice was terse and carried a certain sense of entanglement. 

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