Page 32 of Protecting Her Secrets

Violent anger bubbles up, and I get the urge to punch something. It makes me want to say “fuck it” and proactively take this asshole out. Then, she’d be free to make decisions she actually wants for her life. But that would only solve half the equation because I have no idea if she’s feeling the same thing I am: this bone-deep feeling that what we started isn’t even close to being fucking done.

“Over easy?” she asks, spatula perched and ready to flip the egg.

“I’m actually not that hungry.” I regret the words when she visibly deflates, her good mood souring.

“Oh, okay. I guess I should’ve asked. I just assumed since neither of us ate much of our dinner.” She removes the pan from the gas burner and turns to put the spatula in the sink, but I throw an arm out to catch her around the waist to stop her. She flinches, as if I was going to hit her. What the fuck?

When my hand lands gently on her hip, showing her my intention, we both freeze. Before she can come up with some bullshit explanation, I remove the spatula from her hand and tip her chin up. Her green eyes shift back and forth between mine anxiously. I’d like to hear her try and make up excuses for this one, but her lips remain clamped shut because there’s only one reason for a person to react that way.

“Skylar, I’d never hurt you. You have to know that.”

“I do.”

“Good.” I cradle her face in my hands. “But you can’t say that about your fiancé, can you?”

Tears pool, only falling when she blinks. “No.”

I’m not shocked in the least, but hearing her admit it makes it real. Though I have no experience on which to base it, I instinctually know how I react now to this situation will determine the outcome. So, instead of letting the boiling hot rage I feel bubble to the surface, I push it down and be the man she needs me to be.

“Come here.” I pull her to me, but with our height difference, I have to bend over, putting more space between our bodies than I’d like. “Hold on.”

I lift her, setting her on the counter. When her legs part, making room for me to step between, she grabs for me, snaking her arms around my torso and fisting the fabric at the back of my shirt tightly. I hold her close, giving her my silent support as she releases all the emotion she has clearly held in for far too long.

This woman has broken my heart more times than I can count, but it won’t ever happen again because no matter what she says, no matter how hard she fights, I’m not letting her go. She doesn’t think I can handle whatever Klutch can throw at me, but that’s only because she hasn’t fully seen the man I’ve become over the last fifteen years.

The mountains have hardened me, the solitude has strengthened me, and I’ve learned a man has to protect what’s his if he wants to keep it. And Skylar has always been mine. We both know it. Now, she just needs to accept it.

Chapter Twelve

Skylar

“This changes everything.You know that, right?” he whispers the words against my neck.

“I know.”

This is the first time I’ve allowed myself to fully admit my darkest secret to another person. Dee has always had her suspicions, but she’s smart enough to know that even if I told her, there was nothing either of us could do about it. Of course the brothers at the club know; they’ve even witnessed it. But it’s nothing they don’t do themselves, so why would they care?

Even Dad knew, but in his eyes, my punishments were justified. He was always telling me that someday, Klutch would knock some sense into me, and I needed to learn to keep my smart mouth shut. Between him and Klutch constantly berating me and making me feel small, I didn’t even allow myself to dream of a different life. The only thing that made life worth living was that house because the memories it holds are so dear to me.

In my darkest hours, I’d picture raising a family there. Just like when I was growing up, there would be outlandish decorations for every holiday, we’d read all the books Mom saved for her future grandchildren, and I’d chart their growth right alongside my own on the door jamb of my room. Through me, all of Mom’s traditions would live on. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Until now.

Being away from the club and snowed in with Walker has shown me that’s not what my dream should’ve been. Instead, I should’ve been reaching for safety, stability, and love. Those are the things I should want for my child, not a house.

My child.

Reality crashes into me like a ton of bricks because Walker still doesn’t know the whole truth. And when he finds out, I doubt he’ll be so quick to offer me a safe haven. The last thing a man wants is to deal with someone else’s baby, right?

I’m such an idiot to allow myself to get sucked into this dream of a future I don’t belong in. I look around at his perfect room in his perfect house, set on this perfect mountain, and my sadness morphs into anger. I haven’t even admitted to the pregnancy yet, but no man wants to raise another man’s baby. It’d be a constant reminder of our time apart.

I can’t handle his rejection because of this baby, so I push at his hard chest, desperate to get away. It’s like trying to move a wall, but he’s so confused, I manage to get him back a few inches.

“Skylar, stop.” He struggles to keep me close.

“Get off me,” I snarl as I viciously claw and shove at him, taking all my anger out on him, though he’s the last person who deserves it. I need to get away from him. I don’t care if I have to walk barefoot down this mountain—I’m leaving.

“What the fuck, Sky?” He hisses as he leans back, touching a scratch I left on his neck and coming back with a few drops of blood.

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