Page 99 of My Damaged Protector

Not being deserving of her is something I came to terms with long ago, but not caring about her? I'd have to have no blood flowing through my veins for that to be the case.

I may not be sure about loving her yet, but I'm fucking certain that I care about her. I've never wanted any woman like I do her.

And even though I just had her, I still can't stop myself from wanting more.

Isn't it crazy how much the need to have her just won't stop consuming me?

I'd like to believe I'm here because I was worried about Peter, which for the record, I was. But more than I'm willing to admit, the thought of seeing her even if only for a few minutes pushed me to walk faster to her aunt's place.

I expected her to not immediately believe me about him, but I'd hoped she would give me some benefit of the doubt, especially after I went to great lengths to fetch the information I had.

The conversation between me and James, my old friend who helped me get the information I wanted about Peter, flashes in my head, and I let it play out.

“Exactly how do you say you know this guy again?” James had said immediately as I picked up the call.

“Um… He's a friend of a friend.” As I spoke, I steeled myself for the bad news. It's why James' next words didn't shock me too much.

“Well, that friend needs to stay far away from this guy, especially if it's a lady. He has had six restraining orders in the past ten years, and it's all from women he dated. I wasn't able to gather the details on every suit, but at least one said he was obsessive and violent. Look, like I said, I don't have all the information, but I called as soon as I could to warn you. Your friend needs to be very careful.”

I'd thanked him and ended the call and literally ran over here, only for her to tell me I'm being irrational. I don't blame her, though. I wouldn't think of Peter as someone who should be avoided if I hadn't gotten access to the information I did. I thought he was cool-headed and reasonable when I first saw him at the hospital until he tried to run me over with his car and then asked me to take him to Sarah a few minutes later.

Blowing a frustrated breath, I finally stand up from the bed and busy myself with getting dressed.

When I'm dressed, I exit the room and walk into the living area, where I find no one.

Great.

If I remain in the room, I'll sleep, but I can't very well keep an eye out for Peter if I'm sleeping. Something tells me Peter will find his way to Sheila's house.

Glazer Ville is a small town, it makes the people are quite connected. It's a wonder none of them has made the mistake of giving a reporter directions to Sheila's place so far.

But I guess none of them are stupid, and they are quite protective of each other, too.

I walk around the house, trying to make sure every door and window is properly locked. When I get to the other two rooms in the house, I knock on the doors. Sheila is the one who comes out of the first doorway, and I try not to let my disappointment at that show in my expression.

“Do you need something?” she asks, starting to come out of the room. I raise my hand to stop her.

“No, you don't have to come out. I just wanted to ensure that your windows are locked.”

“Yes, they are. Thanks.” She looks at me gratefully.

Shaking my head, I speak. She doesn't have to thank me.

“No, it's my pleasure.”

“I know, but I still want to thank you, anyway.”

In that case, I do nothing but smile at her.

When a minute passes and we don’t say anything, I motion to the next door and start to walk away.

“Ian,” she calls out, making me falter in my steps and glance over my shoulder to look at her.

She gives me a look that has me walking closer to her. When I'm in front of her again, she smiles approvingly. I don't know if I should be impressed or offended.

“The last time we spoke, I asked if you love my niece, but you didn't say anything…”

She trails off, letting the meaning of her words hang in the air.

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