Page 84 of Daddy's Heart

Along with her thoughts.

One of the most dangerous places to be.

Chapter 30

Ryder placed the plate of pancakes slathered in nondairy butter and maple syrup on a tray next to a cup of tea, loaded with sugar. If this breakfast didn’t make her eat, he wasn’t sure what would.

Three days since Randall had attacked his little girl, and he still couldn’t get a handle on what was making her so sad. Picking up the tray from the counter, he decided he would make her talk. Being sweet and nice wasn’t working. The gap between them widened each time he checked on her, leaving the room less knowledgeable than when he’d entered it.

Samantha sat on the edge of the bed when he walked in, her feet dangling over the side.

“What are you doing?” he asked, placing the tray on the nightstand.

“I need to get up. I can’t keep laying there like this,” she groused.

“Let me help you. Did you do the breathing treatment yet?” he asked, picking up the plastic tube the doctors had given her. “If you don’t—”

“I know, I know. I could cause an infection. I know.” She waved him off.

He pressed a hand to her shoulder to stop her from getting up. “So, is that a yes or a no?”

She raised her saucy glare to him, but he wasn’t backing down. He’d let her have her privacy and mope for the past three days, but no more.

“I did it.”

He dropped his hand and smiled. “Good girl. Do you want to take a shower or a bath?”

“Shower.” She pushed off the bed, a sour grimace crossing her face. His chest twisted seeing her in so much pain.

“Go slow, Sam,” he ordered when she started to march across the room.

“I’m fine.” She waved again and walked out of the room.

He let out a long breath. “Breakfast first,” he called after her.

“Not hungry,” she yelled back, and the bathroom door shut.

He glared down at the pancakes drowning in syrup. Enough was enough.

He made his way to the bathroom and flung the door open, only mildly surprised to find it unlocked. Samantha stood in the middle of the room, her nightgown pooled at her feet, inspecting herself in the mirror.

Dark, ugly bruises played across her ribs, matching the large mark on her jaw. His teeth snapped as he took her in. His heart pounded harder the longer he stared at her.

“Did you want something?” she asked with a generous heap of snark when she caught him staring.

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to help you,” he declared, shutting the door behind him.

“I can handle—”

“It’s not about what you can do, it’s about what I’m going to allow you to do. And I’m not allowing you to bathe yourself, little girl. That’s my job,” he snapped at her.

Her eyes widened a fraction, as though she hadn’t expected it and wasn’t quite sure how to react.

“Can you take off your panties, or do you need help?” he asked, brushing past her to the shower and turning the nob until warm water ran.

“I can do it.” She thrust her hands into the elastic band of the satin panties and shoved them down to her feet. Kicking them away, they landed on her nightgown.

Ryder pushed the curtain out of the way and held out his hand. “Careful,” he said when she lifted her leg to step inside. She grabbed hold of his arm when she started to waver.

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