Page 13 of My Damaged Protector

Probably not.

A life without my daughter is one I never want to imagine. She's the best gift life has given me so far, and the thought of her having to live with Kyle permanently if something had happened to me earlier today brings tears to my eyes.

If Ian had hesitated…

Or what if he wasn't there?

I don't want to imagine it!

I don't know any person who would have risked their life like he did for me, and I guess this is why I may never be able to forget him or keep him out of my thoughts.

The road somehow always leads to him.

It's like he's being carved into my destiny, and nothing he or I do can change that.

It sounds phony, I know. I am a fiction writer, though, so maybe you shouldn't expect much of me.

Most of my thoughts have been romanticized for the past fourteen years.

When I glance at the time on my bedside table, I see that it's past nine at night, and I haven't had dinner yet.

Groaning, I get on my feet, put on my robe, and enter the kitchen to prepare some food. It's been an eventful night, and while I am pretty hungry, I don't want to take in anything heavy, so I decide on fruit salad.

It takes me ten minutes to make it. I pour myself a glass of wine, carry my salad in one hand, my wine in the other, and walkout of the kitchen, passing the living room as I go to sit on my front porch.

While it's a bit late at night, Glazer Ville isn't a town that sleeps early. Honestly, we don't even qualify as a town because of how small the area is, but my hometown isn't decided by its size. It's by the people in it. Although wealth isn't something we are lacking, we can be quite quaint.

As I eat, I keep my mind focused on the things around me, refusing to let myself be drawn into thoughts of Ian, the near accident, or even Kyle.

It's not an impossible task because people keep passing by, and I busy myself with occasional greetings and waves.

Soon, my plate is empty, and with the realization comes a change in the air. The wind comes so strong it makes my windows clang. Standing up, I drain the last of my drink and close my window from outside before I fetch my plate and start to enter the house.

Just as I push the door open, an idea hits me, forcing me to pause my movement.

This is it!

What I've been looking for all this while just fallen into my lap, and I didn't even realize it!

Rushing inside, I enter the kitchen and dump the utensils in my hands in the sink before I run to the bedroom and pick up my laptop, and then dash back into the living room.

Right in the very spot Ian took me not long ago, I sit and start to tap away on my laptop.

It is only once I have my new idea all written out that I pause to read it again.

When I'm done reading it, I drop my laptop on the seat and do a little dance around my living room.

My audiences are going to lose their minds after reading this!

I just fleshed out a plot for my new book, and it's based on my encounter tonight with Ian.

I can't believe it.

Not only am I certain I'm going to do justice to this plot, but I know it's going to be filled with a lot of twists, as most of my books always are.

Pacing the room, I start to think of how I can make the story stand out, make it resonate with my audience, and another idea hits me.

What if I make Ian have a wife somewhere that I had no idea of and find out later but still can’t resist him when he comes for me again?

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