Page 75 of Protecting Her Secrets

Her gaze lowers to the ground. “I’m sorry I assumed, Walker. That was pretty shitty of me.”

“Yeah, it was.” I scoff. “I don’t know when you’re going to trust me to take care of you. I told you over and over that I got this. I have plans with contingencies. You know Rowan; he wouldn’t let us be unprepared for intruders. Maybe now that I kicked one of their asses, you’ll believe me. Or maybe you think they just sent their weakest soldiers, and that’s the only reason.”

“No, I believed you before, I just?—”

“Stephen Gray and Lucas Graham. Do those dumbass names ring a bell?”

“He sent Axel and Cracker?” She finally looks impressed.

“Yeah. Those idiots. They deserved to have their asses kicked for their dumbass road names. I mean, Lucas Graham is Cracker? Fuckin’ stupid.”

“They’re the muscle. Klutch would only send them if he wanted me dead.” Her arms fold around herself, and I want to rush over and comfort her, but my stupid pride won’t let me. It hurts that she still doesn’t believe in me.

“That’s the impression I got.” I snark.

“How long will Wilder hold them?” She tucks a rogue curl behind her ear, and that’s when I notice she’s shaking. Fuck. How am I supposed to be mad when my girl is trembling in fear?

“For a while. They assaulted an officer of the law and were both carrying firearms with the serial numbers filed off. And even if the guns were legal, they’re both convicted felons and aren’t supposed to even be around guns. Wilder is going to drag his feet on this one, and he’ll have the county prosecutor do the same.”

“What’s the penalty for those crimes?”

I grimace. “Four years, and that’s the best case. If they have a good lawyer, probably less. And if they have a really good lawyer and a really terrible judge, they’ll walk away with fines.”

She nods, looking so vulnerable and small. I can’t stand it any longer. I rush over and lift her off her feet, carrying her over to the couch. With our height difference, I can’t be as close as I want to her while also carrying on a conversation if we’re standing. My side aches from the movement, but I don’t give a shit.

After I’ve situated her on my lap, I look her dead in the eyes. “I know you’ve seen them do some awful shit in the past, which has made you believe they’re unstoppable. But sweetheart, please listen when I say we’ve got this.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

“Fuckin’ finally.” I rub soothing circles on her back. “And I know you could run and keep yourself safe. You’re a fuckin’ survivor. Your whole life, the men you trusted most told you were nothing—just an object to use—and instead of accepting that, you rejected it and did everything you could to not become what they wanted you to be. And because those men are absolute shit, they figured out what you value most and used it against you to make you fall in line.”

“And what did I do? Exactly what they wanted.”

“I don’t think so. You’ve had fifteen years to get this divorce, and it’s never required you to come to me.” I lift her hand and place a chaste kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I think I was your failsafe. I think you kept me in your back pocket because you knew I’d be here for you, no matter what.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait around for me.”

“Maybe not, but deep down, I think you knew our love was something neither of us could move on from. And you were right. Had you not shown up, I would’ve died on this mountaina lonely old man, still pining for the one who got away. So why wouldn’t I want to fight alongside you? Because make no mistake, I’m nothing more than a weapon you’re wielding; I’m not your shield.”

Her eyes glass over. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m a patient man.” When her brows lift, I back down. “Okay, fine. I’ve only been patient about one thing—waiting for you to come back to me.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Skylar

I wakeup with the rising sun, feeling refreshed even though Walker kept me up late doing delicious things to my body. It’s no surprise Walker isn’t in bed next to me. That man doesn’t appear to need much sleep to survive. Instead, he lives for the things that bring him joy, which is why I’d put money on him being outside with his animals. He can say he keeps the goats to clear land, Moodonna for fertilizer, and the chickens for eggs, but it’s a lie. Those animals are part of the family he has created here on the mountain.

After a quick bathroom break, I head downstairs, where a fresh pot of coffee is waiting. I take a sip and wince. This is not the fair trade, organic, whatever-the-hell-else brew I’ve enjoyed since being here. Setting the mug down, I dig through the cupboard and behind the airtight containers where he stores all his pantry goods is a bag of decaf. Seriously?

I sigh when my heart warms, and my irritation fades away. There can’t be very many men out there who would go out of their way to take care of a woman who’s pregnant by anotherman. And not only that, but he considers this baby his. How can I be upset about that? So, I pick up my disgusting mug of decaf and sip it happily as I sit down in the living room with my cell phone in hand.

Last night was heavy, and I did a lot of emotional work to deconstruct the way I viewed and handled my situation. Maybe Walker was being too easy on me. Maybe he’s blinded by love. But his words empowered me, and now, I feel ready to take back control of my life.

The first step is texting Jazzy. I really need to go shopping, but also, I want to make friends and start growing roots. I’ve held myself back from any attachments for so long, it feels awkward to reach out, but Jazzy makes it easy, and after a quick exchange, we have plans to meet up later this morning.

Floating on that success, I pull Lisa Warner’s number out of Walker’s phone and plug it into mine before making a call.

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