Page 78 of Her Faithful Protector

I close my eyes, considering the possibility. “I don’t know.”

“Since the day we met, your past has remained unchanged. Tell me, have your nightmares ever been that violent before?”

“Not when I was around someone. Or at least no one had ever told me.” And I can’t recall if they were when I was alone.

She continues, “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself because you want to shield me from your past. Let me say this gently, Jack. Quinton and I need your protection in the present. You may not get what you want, and I’m not promising to erase your nightmares. But I’ll be there to cushion the pain.”

With both head and heart, I had already made my decision before coming back just now. Nonetheless, her words strike me deeply, and my heart aches for the right reasons.

Ava holds my shoulders and declares, “I will protect you from your past, not by burying it, but by being your support. Please let me in, not Willem. Whatever he said to you, don’t heed his words. Don’t do it, Jack.”

For the first time since Willem’s attempt to poison me, I feel clarity. Love isn’t measured by the tears shed when you’re gone but by the determination of that person to keep you on the right path. This woman never gives up on me, and I will return her faith.

Unable to hold back any longer, I confess, “I’m not gonna do it.”

Ava collapses against me, the heft of our emotions overwhelming us both. It’s painful to let go of the past, but the thought of losing my future hurts even more.

27

AVA

It finally happens—we’re flying to Hawaii today. The anticipation has been escalating, given the short time we’ve had. As we pack the last of our belongings, I can’t shake the sense of déjà vu. But this time, it feels like we’re packing for a well-deserved break, like a stepping stone toward our future together.

We’re aware that we’ll always have unfinished business as long as Willem remains at large. But today, we feel a renewed sense of resolve, as if we’re riding the clear skies after a storm. Morgan has arranged a chartered flight for us, courtesy of her connection to a company that sometimes flies Red Mark personnel and their clients. Flying on a private jet will make things easier for newbies Quinton and Elmo, and we won’t have to worry about being seen.

Taking a break from packing, I prepare some blueberry oatmeal for Quinton.

Jack joins me, wrapping me from behind like a cape. I slant my face, admiring his look after visiting the barber. I will miss running my fingers through his thick hair, but something about his military-crop look and smooth, clean-shaven facestirs my core—a ‘Lieutenant Kelleher, make love to me please’ kind of yearning.

“You’re all right?” I check in on him. We woke up at the same time before dawn, just as he gripped the bed sheet and was about to scream. I don’t think he had a deep sleep, but we agreed not to discuss it and simply hug each other instead. Sometimes, silence is all you need.

“I’m still nervous about the trip, but I think we’ve made the right decision,” he says, planting a light kiss on my cheek before grabbing the oatmeal for Quinton, who is already seated in his high chair, happily tapping on the plastic table.

“I can’t believe we’re really leaving.” I look around the kitchen, reminiscing the moments we’ve shared during our stay—the meals, the coffees, the teas, the baby formulas. Lost in my thoughts, I gaze out of the window.

“We’ll create new memories, sweetheart,” he assures me.

“For sure,” I respond. However, my eyes remain fixed on the porch through the window, specifically on the railing. New memories or not, it will be hard to top the incredible night we had. Carry me—not many men could have pulled it off.

“Ava Belle, do you know if Elmo will need to fly in his cage?” asks Jack, interrupting my thoughts about that spectacular night.

I notice him keeping watch on Elmo while feeding a spoonful to Quinton. The mutt has been inspecting every nook and cranny of the house all morning, and now he’s scratching at the back door.

“I don’t think so,” I answer, pulling Elmo away from the door. “What is it, Elm?” Elmo raises his eyes to me as if revealing a sad premonition. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You can be a passenger like your humans. But you’ll have to go into quarantine when we reach Honolulu.”

As soon as I let go, Elmo dashes to the door again. I lookout the window. One of the bushes moves, and I’m sure that’s what my dog is concerned about rather than his flight. A black-and-white creature runs across the yard.

“Everything okay back there?” Jack asks.

“Yeah. It’s just a skunk.”

Elmo whimpers and then continues pacing around the house.

As I wipe the kitchen bench, I bring up the topic we haven’t had a chance to discuss amid all the rush. “So, will we be living on the base?” I ask, trusting my man to have made all the necessary arrangements for our arrival.

“My current on-base accommodation is more of a bachelor pad, definitely not suitable for a baby.”

Pausing in my cleaning, I turn to him. “Why? You have posters of topless women?”

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