Page 50 of Hero's Heart

Sloane’s fingers stilled on his chest, and she exhaled slowly. “He wasn’t around much even before that, so I didn’t really care that we were leaving. I didn’t know him well enough to miss him.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

“It was,” she admitted, her voice tight. “But not for the reasons you’d probably think. My mom… She wasn’t okay. She suffered from depression and anxiety—although I didn’t understand it at the time. Some days, she couldn’t even get out of bed.”

Sloane’s voice softened, tinged with an ache that cut through Callum’s chest. “I had to take care of her. Once I was old enough, I worked after school, odd jobs mostly, just to make sure we had food in the house. We barely scraped by.”

Callum closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. He’d already suspected she’d grown up too fast, but hearing the details made it all too real. She had carried more weight on her shoulders as a kid than many adults.

It explained so much about her now—her resilience, her independence. But it also made him want to shield her from the world, even if she didn’t need him to.

“What happened to her?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Sloane hesitated, her fingers still on his chest. “She died when I was seventeen. It was sudden. A heart attack, the doctors said. But I think… I think the years of struggling just caught up to her.”

Callum’s hand stilled on her back. “I’m so sorry.” He knew his words didn’t help, but the sentiment was still true.

She nodded against him, her hair brushing his chest. “We were broke. I didn’t even have enough money to bury her. So, I went to my dad.”

Callum’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

Sloane shifted again, pulling away from him and lying flat on her back now, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “He agreed to help, but not before telling me something I didn’t know. When my mom left him, she took a significant amount of his money. She stole it.”

Callum’s jaw tightened. Shit. That did complicate things and gave him a little bit of insight into William Getty—although, the guy was still an asshole. “He held it against you, didn’t he?”

She nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. “He didn’t say it outright, but he made it clear. He agreed to give me the money for the funeral, but there were conditions. He and Clarice said I could live with them, but only if I earned my keep. I had to work for the family to cover my room and board, plus pay back what…I borrowed.”

What a fucking bastard. “He made youworkfor it? For burying your mom?”

Sloane turned her head toward him, her eyes searching his face. “It hasn’t been so bad. And honestly, I didn’t expect anything else from him.”

William Getty was very lucky he wasn’t here right now. Callum wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself from putting his fist through the man’s face a couple dozen times. “You didn’t deserve that. None of it. That’s not how family is supposed to behave.”

Her lips twitched, almost smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s not like I ever expected him to be a good dad. It’s just who he is.”

“Why do you stay there?” Why would she continue to put up with them? “When they treat you the way they do?”

Sloane blinked, her expression becoming unreadable. “Sometimes the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

That answer didn’t sit right with Callum, but he decided not to push. She’d already shared more than he’d expected, and he could feel the emotional weight of it pressing down on her. So, for now, he’d let it be.

Her stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension. Her cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him.

“Your stomach is becoming our alarm clock. Time for breakfast.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. The softness of her skin against his lips made him want to linger, but he pulled back before he did something he shouldn’t.

She looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re cooking?”

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Sure. Since it’s cereal and fruit.”

She laughed, and the beauty of the sound struck him. The ache in his arms flared from his wounds as he sat up and eased from the bed, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the soft rustle of sheets as Sloane headed into the bathroom to get dressed, still laughing softly.

He’d never be able to understand how someone who carried so much still managed to shine so bright.

Chapter 17

The next day, Sloane and Callum walked through one of the open-air marketplaces of Chi?inau. She knew they couldn’t be there long—it was too dangerous—but she couldn’t deny how much she loved it.

She tilted her face up toward the sun, letting the warmth soak into her skin as they ambled along the cobblestone street. It felt good to be outside, breathing fresh air.

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