Page 67 of Her Redeemed Protector

“I’ll give my all to you, Sav, regardless of my past. Regardless ofher.”

“I know,” I say, and I genuinely believe him. “Just remember, I’m not her, okay?”

“You’re not her, and she wasn’t you,” he answers. “You’re the most real person I’ve ever known—grounded, genuine, no pretense. I want to learn from you, to be a better man.”

A light smile plays on my lips. “So you want me to be your teacher?”

He chuckles, the tension easing between us. “It sounds so formal. Maybe mentor is a better word?”

I nod, content with his response. His earnestness reassures me, and deep down, I’m ready to move forward with him.

A thought that’s been nagging me suddenly surfaces. “Hux, can I make a request?”

He glances toward the water, his expression suggestive as he guesses, “Skinny dipping?”

I laugh and give his arm a jab. The healthy one, thankfully. “Would you drive me to the spot of the accident? At Lakefall Valley?” The question is laden with years of unattended memories, but I can feel ‘the bend’ is calling me. “When we lived there, Dad and I always made sure she wasn’t without flowers. It’s been too long since.”

His reply is immediate, radiating his innate kindness. “Of course, I’ll take you there. And we’ll pick the most beautiful flowers for her.”

In gratitude, I press my lips to his again. It’s a sweetreminder that, despite life’s twists and turns, his kiss is a constant I can depend on.

24

HUXLEY

Savannah and I finally set off after a series of unavoidable delays due to emergency cases at Red Mark. Just as I promised her, we’re heading to the spot where the tragic accident occurred.

The unexpected jangle of my phone cuts the quietness of our journey.

“Sorry, sorry,” I grumble, my tone thick with annoyance as I dismiss the call from a familiar Colombian number. It’s Marta Rojas—likely nudging me to speak with Rodolfo. But that can wait. I turn off the phone with a decisive click.

As the crease in my brow eases, Savannah’s hand finds mine, understanding.

“So, your arm is as good as new?” she asks, nodding toward where the bandage once was.

“You bet,” I reply, extending my arm for her inspection. The skin is nearly flawless now, a testament to the ointment’s efficacy.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she says, acknowledging the drive.

“Hey, anytime,” I reply with a grin. “I’m yours, officially. It’s in the job description.”

She cracks a smile. “Still. You’re sacrificing your free time for me.”

“You need to get used to having a boyfriend who’s actually useful,” I utter, hinting at her dickhead ex. “Besides, I’ve got a few more days off. Let me know if you want me to take you somewhere else. Like, I don’t know, maybe a blueberry farm?” I nudge her, hinting at the jam she promised to make.

“I’ll think about it,” she sighs, a mock-serious tone in her voice as her gaze drifts to the scenery unfolding outside the window.

“Where’s your mom buried, Sav?” I inquire.

“At the village church,” she replies, her voice carrying a mix of sorrow and fondness. “Dad and I used to visit on the anniversary of her death. But we went to the accident spot more often. We simply called it ‘the bend.’”

I nod, curiosity tugging at me. Was it sorrow or fondness that drew them to the spot instead of her resting place? “Why visit the bend more often?”

“We felt like it was the last place she was alive, you know? Her spirit seemed to linger there, among the trees and shrubs, in the open air. The cemetery… it’s just headstones and caskets.”

“I get it,” I say, agreeing with her reasoning.

The road to Lakefall Valley snakes through the wilderness. It’s still fresh on my mind after the trip to the Blackwater Brutes’ former stronghold. But past that, we’re flanked by nothing but lush foliage. It was just a red line on a map when she showed me. Now, the seclusion of our destination wraps around us like a shroud.

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