Page 29 of Her Faithful Protector

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine remorse.

“I can’t… I can’t go on without him, Jack,” I quaver. “He’s a part of me. He’s my entire life!”

“I understand, sweetheart.”

I would ask ‘how could you possibly know?’ but his words carry so much pain that I wonder if he has absorbed mine and truly understands.

“You know, Jack. Many cancer survivors struggle to have children. I’m one of the fortunate ones who’s blessed with strong fertility despite my leukemia.”

He gives my hand a tender squeeze. “You were meant to be a mother.”

“And I need to be with my baby,” I shoot him a desperate look. “One more day without him, and I’ll lose my sanity.”

With a gentle gesture, he brings my hand to his chest, placing it over his left pec as if offering me his strength. “I promise I will do whatever it takes to bring Quinton back into your arms.” His voice breaks with emotion.

Trembling, I reach out and grasp his other hand, squeezing it tightly against my left breast. His presence brings a rush of darkness and light at the same time. Foreheads pressed together, his lips so close, I can almost taste the oasis in this desert of despair. With half a breath, our lips meet, and it becomes more than just a kiss. It becomes a necessity, a lifeline.

In Bozeman, I had yearned for this moment, imagining the heat and passion of our connection as I admired his physique from afar. We didn’t sleep in the same room, only letting out our affection like we were just friends. Now, this kiss exceeds my wildest dreams. It is a primal need, a salvation for my shattered soul. It grounds me, keeps me alive. And he willingly gives it to me.

Every girl wishes their first kiss to be romantic, earth-shattering. But my first kiss with Jack is more than just a physical act. It’s magnetic, binding us together on multiple levels.

Jack’s hand cradles the back of my neck, and I reciprocate, pulling him closer. As we break the kiss, our breath coming inragged gasps. We don’t need words to communicate; we feel each other’s pain and determination. When my own strength wavers, this man reminds me of the indomitable power within every mother.

This brief respite allows me to gather myself. Then, like a bolt of lightning, a thought strikes me. “Jack…you said there was likely a woman involved?”

“Yes.”

“My babysitter.”

His hum whirs low in his throat. “Who paid her?”

“Willem. And I remember. A few weeks before I left L.A., she asked for a raise and more hours. She said her brother was in debt. Could it be her?”

“Damn… we should start looking for her instead of that round-faced man!” he asserts.

I press my forehead wearily. “How could she…”

With a concerned look, Jack suggests, “Why not rest while I have a conversation with Sam?”

“I don’t want to sleep alone.”

His expression changes. “Wait for me in the bedroom. I won’t be long.”

Why do I sense he’s not comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with me?

I speak hesitantly, “Jack, you don’t have to?—”

“I won’t be long, okay?” His head whips around as if trying to hide the fact that he’s terrified.

9

JACK

My hands press against the damp wall, its rough texture grazing my skin. A tangled garden surrounds this underground space, and the relentless rain has turned the soil into a muddy barrier, blocking the only ventilation. As I inhale the rancid, mold-filled air, the door creaks open, revealing a silhouette. The wind disturbs his long hair as he reaches up to the back of his neck, concealing something.

I frantically scratch at the peeling paint on the wall, the gritty surface grating against my fingertips. In a matter of seconds, the figure engulfs me, and a searing pain shoots through my shoulder blades as if my spine is being exposed. I squirm, desperate to scream for help.

In a gasp, my eyes fly open to the sight of daylight. A friendly canine face greets me, a pink tongue eagerly licking my face. I let out a relieved huff, grateful that I didn’t reach the part where my screams would have roared and woken up everyone.

---