Not Another Diva

18 - Cowboy Vigilante

So Long // Niall Horan

Returning home a few hours later, everything seems so different. The event went off perfectly. Brianna surprised the fans with the meet and greet, and they went crazier then when we had arrived. Everyone was really nice, happy to meet her, and no one gave us any reason to even blink twice. It was a perfect night.

Brianna has been smiling the entire ride home. More importantly, she is also snuggled up against me. All on her own. I wasn't going to say no, that's for sure. I just wrapped myself around her and pulled her closer. The silence in the car has been comfortable, just another signal to how safe Brianna feels now.

Getting out of the car in her driveway, however, I feel a rush of adrenaline. It's like an electric pulse that runs down my spine, causing all of the hairs on my neck to stand on end. Not at all a pleasant feeling after what has been a really pleasant day. It jars me, to say the least. I feel on edge and I can't understand why this would be the case.

The only explanation my mind can cling to is that Brianna is so different then what I've come to expect, it must be throwing my instincts all out of sync. I just need to relax and have a great night with her.

We walk hand in hand up the steps to her front door. The entire day has been spent hand in hand at this point. Again, I'm not complaining. Instead I feel like saying finally. That nagging feeling is still there, but I shove it aside and squeeze her hand instead. And dang it if she doesn't squeeze back. We're totally on the same wavelength right now and I couldn't be happier.

As we enter the house, Brianna kicks off her shoes in a way that only someone without a care in the world can do. She turns back, the brightness in her eyes almost stunning me in place. "I'm getting a big glass of lemonade. Something about a picnic makes me crave it."

I laugh. "Sounds good. I'm just going to change and then I'll join you. Rooftop?"

Her nodding smile is gorgeous. I have a hard time continuing on my path instead of stepping forward and pressing my lips to hers, what I've been thinking of doing for hours now. But I'm not sure she's ready for me to do that. I feel it coming, though. I just need to wait for the right moment.

I turn to go down the hallway, and Brianna heads to the kitchen. She's humming, something I know I've never witnessed.

"Nice song," I call back to her. "Someone's in a good mood."

"A good picnic will do that for a girl."

Her laughter after her answer puts a smile on my face. When I get to my room and see that she'd left her bedroom door open, something else I've only witnessed one other time over the past month, I know she's feeling pretty confident these days.

"You must really be feeling comfortable with me now, Brianna, leaving your bedroom door open like that." I intend to tease her with my little joke.

But the second I finish speaking I hear glass breaking in the kitchen. That feeling in my spine returns and I curse myself for ignoring it earlier. Something is wrong, really wrong.

I don't even think about what I need to do, I just act. Immediately, I change course and run to the kitchen. I see Brianna frozen in place, barefoot and surrounded by broken glass. Her eyes are wide with fear, that fucking fear I thought was finally under control. Not anymore.

Her hands come up to cover her mouth and she starts shaking her head back and forth in a panic. I can't let her freak out because I don't know if someone is in this house. I just know I need to get her out of it.

I take three huge steps across the glass, making it right to where Brianna is standing. I scoop her up in my arms without saying a word and turn to get her out of the house. My keys and wallet are still in my pocket but I pause by the door just long enough for Brianna to grab her bag from the hook. I manage to open the door somehow and make it down the steps to my truck in the driveway. I'm not wasting time looking for the keys to any of her luxury cars. This is a getaway and I don't care if the truck is a wreck.