Page 11 of My Damaged Protector

My phone starts to ring, and I pick it up from the bed, refusing to look at the screen and hoping that by some sheer luck, it's Sarah calling so I can just tell her I was an idiot and beg her to come here.

At least being around her, I should be able to sleep well.

“Ian?”

Nope, not Sarah.

“What do you want, Richard?” I snap at my friend and fire chief from work.

“I just wanted to check in on you, see if you're doing well.”

The nice thing to do would be to tell him that I am doing well, but the asshole in me just won't take the high road.

“I'm not fine, Richard, and it's all thanks to you. Happy?”

I hear him sigh.

“I was trying to help, Ian. I’m still trying to help. I hope one day you'll understand that,” he says softly.

“Well, your help is not doing me any good. Besides, you had no right.”

“Actually, I do! I'm your chief. It's my duty to suspend you and keep you away from the risks you keep putting yourself in,” he says sternly.

I open my mouth to come up with a retort, but he's not done.

“It’s not your duty to be a Messiah to anyone. Your duty is to try to save them, which you always do. You did your best so save your brother, too, but the situation was out of your hands. So, stop beating yourself up. No one could have saved him. His death is not on you.”

I want to believe what he's saying so badly, take the out he's giving me, but I can't. I won't.

“So the best way to help me cope with my loss was to take away from me the only thing I had left?”

“Ian, I…”

I stop hearing him as the sound of something crashing in the next room has me standing upright.

What could that be?

4

SARAH

The memoryof Ian inside me makes me giddy as I wash off. It's like being a teenager all over again, except this time, there's no beating around the bush.

He wants me, he's showing me as much, and he let us have each other.

What could be more amazing than that?

As I stand under the shower, I try not to let myself overthink what us having sex could mean and instead focus on the prospect of doing it again.

It didn't escape me that he didn't say anything to my declaration of wanting to have him forever.

Could I blame some of the things I said on the heat of the moment? To some extent, yes.

But here's the thing about intoxicating moments: you tend to say it all. Your desires, the darkest of them all, that which you have always wanted, needed, pant for, you tend to spill them all if made relaxed enough and asked the right question.

So when I said that I wanted Ian forever, it came from my heart because, let's face it, has any man made me feel half the way Ian has?

Sighing, I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I've been here long enough, anyway.

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