Page 48 of Protector

I’d wasted years weaving crowns from flowers and hoping for neighborhood barbecues while forgetting that I’d always felt most alive on the arm of the god of death.

Maybe this was what I’d needed all along.

Dakota continued discussing the ways in which Hela tried and failed to defeat Thor while we waited to pick up Kate, and I found that I didn’t mind. I wasn’t thinking about what to make for dinner or worrying that I’d left a door unlocked.

It felt like before.

Before Jamie faked his death.

Before Hawk began stealing from me.

Before the night I wanted so badly to forget.

If I couldn’t bring their father home, the least I could do was resurrect their mother. I didn’t want to be the girl who hid inside anymore. I had to try to get back to the woman who’d driven to a biker clubhouse in the middle of the night and demanded to speak to the Pres.

She was still in there. I knew it.

“Mama… Mama… Mama,” Kate repeated from the passenger seat, waving a hand in front of my face.

“Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

“She’s still imagining a ship made of fingernails,” Dakota giggled from the backseat.

Kate’s nose wrinkled up. “Gross. Who would do that?”

I shook my head. “The goddess of death, apparently. Now, what were you asking?”

She shot a quick glance to the back seat, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “I was just thinking that you shouldn’t have to cook dinner tonight. You’re probably exhausted from working so hard…”

“Mmm-hmm…” A pop song came on the radio, and I began humming softly while tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat.

Kate continued watching me earnestly, and I fought against the smile playing on my lips when I caught Dakota’s inquisitive stare in the rearview mirror.

“You know, that’s a good idea. I’ve been waiting for the day that you and Dakota would take over. I can sit back and watch my favorite show while yelling into the kitchen every five minutes to see if it’s ready.”

Dakota sank back down in her seat with a huff as Kate’s shoulders fell. “I was actually—I mean, we were thinking it might be nice to just pick something up. That way no one has to waste time cleaning up the kitchen—”

“Kate.” I patted her leg. “You can stop now. We’re picking up a pizza for dinner, and that’s final.” The grin returned to both girls’ faces, and Dakota raised her fist in victory when we pulled into the parking lot.

We cranked the music on the drive home, the three of us belting out the lyrics like we were on stage. While Kate and I thumped our fists against our chests dramatically, Dakota squeezed her eyes shut and held her pretend microphone in a death grip.

I would’ve stopped time itself if it meant they could stay young and carefree forever. As that wasn’t an option, I’d have to settle for knowing that the men who hurt me would never lay a finger on either one of them.

If I had it my way, no man would ever raise a hand to them.

Dakota saw the motorcycle parked in the driveway before I did and began bouncing up and down in her seat. “Is that Angel? This really is the best day ever! I can’t wait to fix his hair!”

“What’s wrong with his hair?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, but he lets her take it down and brush it out like they’re playing beauty shop,” Kate explained while I parked, as if she was too grown up for such things.

“It’s not a beauty shop. It’s a superhero transformation center. When his hair is down, he looks like Thor. Well, like an old man Thor. I mean, his hair isn’t blond, but it’s long.”

“And?” Kate pressed.

“And… he pays me five bucks just for doing it,” Dakota finished sheepishly. “What? I didn’t tell him to, but he said I have a natural talent.”

She could’ve put his hair up in pigtails, and he would’ve given her the money all the same. With the exception of Lucy and Wolverine, no one loved those girls like he did.

---