Page 133 of Challenged by the Single Dad

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“We’ll help you here, Hawke,” the guy Chloe called Kit, said. “Take pictures, then start to clean up.”

Hawke nodded and brought out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to Kit. The man seemed to almost be in a daze. The shock was settling in for him too. “Maybe this is a sign that Island Time Hostel should close for good,” he murmured, walking over to the dark-blue couch and running his hand over the big slash in one of the cushions where the stuffing spilled out.

“Don’t say that, mate,” the Aussie woman said. “We’ll get ‘er back into shape. Don’t you worry.”

Hawke offered her a small smile, but it was faint and hopeless.

Chloe went to Hawke and hugged him again. “Don’t close it yet, Hawke. There’s still a lot of life here. We just need to do a bit of resuscitation. That’s all.” Then she patted his shoulder and retreated back into Dom’s embrace.

Dom held the door for her to step out into the rain and wind, her car keys in his hand. She had her purse and jacket, but still shook as if freezing as he opened up the passenger side door to her Volvo.

Luckily, those kids had cranked the heat, so it was still warm inside. He pressed the start button once he slid behind the steering wheel and hot air blasted them both.

He was soaked through to his fucking boxer shorts, but he didn’t care.

Chloe was safe. She was with him, and that was all that mattered.

They sat there for a moment, just letting the vents coat them in warmth. He reached for her hand, and she gripped him like she was drowning in the Puget Sound, and he was a piece of driftwood floating by. Their eyes locked. Tears welled up, blurring the blue-green. And then she crumpled.

Hard, body-clutching sobs wracked her body as she struggled to gasp for air. He pulled her from her seat into his lap, and held her there as the shock of it all swept through her, and she came down the other side of her adrenaline spike. He knew what that was like. The crash after a disaster. It was like waking up with the world’s worst hangover. Your muscles ached, your brain was exhausted, even your bones felt stiff and throbbing as they struggled to hold you up.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there in the parking lot with the heater on. And he didn’t care.

All that mattered was that he got her and she was safe.

If Joey had touched her, Dom wasn’t sure the man would even be alive to sit in a jail cell. He’d be off to the fucking morgue. Dom’s fate be damned.

Eventually, her breathing evened out and her sobs became whimpers. Her fingers that held onto the front of his hoodie for dear life had to be cramping, so he carefully peeled them free and gave them a quick massage, pressing his lips to her forehead.

She met his gaze, her eyes red-rimmed and teary. “I was so scared.”

He rubbed her back. “Me too.”

A stuttered breath escaped her through parted lips. “I just … I have all this … I don’t even know what to call it? Anger? Fear? Helplessness? I just have all these feelings inside of me and even crying doesn’t feel like enough to get them out.” Her gaze was pleading. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.” Glancing up at the ceiling she growled. “God, I just want to … I just want to scream. You know?”

Oh, Dom knew.

He knew very well.

“Hang on,” he said, helping her back to her seat. He opened up the door and stepped out to check to see how heavy it was raining. Only, it wasn’t really raining anymore. It was more of a drizzle than anything. Even the wind had died down.

Did the storm finally pass? Or was this just the eye? Either way, they finally had a reprieve. And this seemed like their window.

Climbing back behind the wheel, he put the car in reverse and backed up. They were on the road in no time. She was quiet beside him, but the tension in the car was thick enough to choke on.

Not tension between them. Just the tension within Chloe. She was a proud, independent woman, and if Dom knew her as well as he hoped he did, she was probably struggling with how powerless she felt tonight.

He reached the turn off for Mount Madrona, grateful that they hadn’t closed the gate for the night yet. He could still drive to the top. Afterall, even though it was dark out, it wasn’t that late. Maybe six o’clock or so.

Confusion swam in Chloe’s eyes as they started to wind up the corkscrew road to the top. But she never said anything.

They reached the summit and he left the high beams on as he climbed out of his seat, jogged around the front of the car, and opened her door for her.

“What are we doing up here?” she asked, searching for answers in his eyes.

“Just trust me,” he said, taking her hand. The headlights provided enough light to not trip over any of the fallen branches.

---