Page 31 of Her Faithful Protector

Of course. When Sam took her to his place, they didn’t bring anything with them.

Ava adds, “Apparently, they had a Disney-themed Christmas a few years ago at the request of Grace. This one looked comfy, so I picked it from the pile Cass offered me.” She pauses then mutters, “Ava Belle, eh?”

“You don’t like it? I’ll stick to the standard ‘sweetheart’ then.”

She twists her lips. “Have you ever called me sweetheart?”

“Haven’t I?” I have, many times, but perhaps not when she’s fully awake.

A grin accentuates her cute morning face. “I like it. I mean, both Ava Belle and sweetheart.”

I peck her soft, pink lips before throwing off the covers and moving myself to sit at the edge of the bed.

Ava caresses my bare skin, prompting me to quiver. No doubt she has found my scar again, but as if she understands, she doesn’t ask.

Years of my life have been devoted to the Corps and to finding the man responsible for ruining my childhood. My encounters with women have been purely physical, lacking any emotional attachment. But now, a force named Ava West has stripped me bare. In her presence, beyond a few sentimental photos, my yearning to commit myself to her deepens. And it feels damn special.

Some may argue this is simply a man’s instinct to protect, a trait that has existed since the beginning of time. But for someone who barely survived the horrors of abduction, tortured and turned into a shell of a human, my dedication to Ava goes beyond natural. It’s extraordinary.

We sit at the breakfast table, and Ava agrees to share a banana smoothie with me. As she takes a sip, she asks, “Why is Willem doing this? If he wants me back, just take me. Why make Quinton go through this?”

Her eyes search mine for answers. At that moment, a vivid image of Willem’s smile at that restaurant flashes before me.

I reply, “He wants revenge. Firstly,youleft him. Imagine the humiliation. His own fiancée ran away withhisbaby? And when people discover thathiswedding isn’t going to go ahead? Ava, his ego will stop at nothing.”

She shakes her head as if she’s found an answer—a painful one. But even so, her eyes still look so stunning. “Maybe it’s more than ego.” Her face is full of thoughts. “And he may not want me back. You know, Jack. Willem’s mother left him when he was six. His father remarried and had another child with his new wife. Willem left home shortly after that to live with his grandfather. He never explained what really happened—whether his father didn’t want to take care of him anymore, or he was simply jealous.”

“So Willem wants to teach you a lesson for leaving?”

She sighs deeply. “What do we do now?”

Last night, the Red Mark men scoured possible areas where Quinton’s kidnapper might have taken him. They also tried to find any sightings of the babysitter, but so far, they’ve found nothing.

“We’ll widen the search,” I assert.

“Willem hired the babysitter because of her glowing reviews. I agreed to hire her because I thought she was good with Quinton and she was tidy. She was really tidy. Perhaps that made her able to cover her tracks every time.”

“Maybe. And, we may need to start thinking about involving the police.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No!”

“Look, I heard from Sam that Red Mark has a good relationship with the Helena PD captain. They work together many times. We can trust him.”

Ava nods. “In that case, we just have to trust that Willem won’t do anything to Quinton.”

“He won’t.” Despite my initial assessment of Willem and how much I hate that man, he’s not Scalpel. I don’t believe he’s capable of hurting his own son.

Ava’s fingers tap at the empty glass where the smoothie was. She then asks, “Jack, can I see those photos you took in L.A.? Those of the bearded man talking to Willem?”

I scramble for my phone and show her the photo she requested.

Ava squints at the image and questions, “Is that his car? Way in the background?”

That gets me thinking. “I didn’t see him coming from or going into that car, but why did you think so?”

“In some of the CCTV footage that Sam had, you know, when I was dumped at that park. He drove a similar car.”

Realization strikes me. I reach for the laptop Sam has left in this house, analyzing the footage Ava is referring to. “My God, you’re right.” Comparing it to the photo on my phone, I catch a rental car sticker on the windshield. And even though it’s blurry, I can make out the registration number on the photo I took. “Ava, you’re brilliant!”

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