Page 12 of Defiant Devotion

It would be just my luck that the first house I’d stumble upon would have a man inside it.

Too late.

I blinked, forcing my sluggish lids to remain open. Nausea returned. Fatigue swept over me. I raised my hand again to knock, having to take my chances that someone who lived here would help me. But I didn’t complete the action. Slanting toward the closed door, I heaved out a deep exhale and kept my fist on the wood. Leaning forward more and more, I let my eyes close as I focused on the bare minimum of breathing.

I was tired. Thirsty. Hungry. Nauseated and exhausted.

But I wasfree.

As the door was pulled open, I lacked the energy to open my eyes. I was free—free falling. Heat wafted out from the interior of the house, and with the bone-deep need for comfort as I hit the last reserves of my energy, I pitched forward and passed out, hopefully into the residence of good Samaritans who would care to keep me alive.

Later, when I woke from the deep darkness of a solid slumber, I instinctively knew that I was still free. The scent of delicious stew accompanied a cozy warmth. Soft pillows and the satiny smoothness of sheets and blankets soothed my raw skin.

I wasn’t on that property anymore. I wasn’t back at that house where my mother was raped and killed, where Ilyin men held me captive so they’d dictate a future I didn’t want.

Instead, I slowly opened my eyes to the interior of a small bedroom. A redheaded woman furrowed her brow as she peereddown at me. Freckles dotted her cheeks and nose, making her seem youthful and juvenile, but as she realized I was waking, a maternal sense of concern covered her face.

“Kyle, she’s waking up,” she said calmly to someone else in the house.

Fuck. A man. She’s not alone.

She backed up from her seat next to the bed I lay on. As she lifted her hand, a wedding ring sparkled in the low light. “Easy,” she urged gently. “You’re okay. You’ll be all right.”

A man huffed a low chuckle as he came into view. A tall, burly man smiled at me as he carried a baby. “She’s a woman, Jenny. Not one of the stray dogs you see at the clinic.”

Jenny smiled more, glancing at the man as he rocked the baby in his arms. “I am aware of that, Mister.”

“She’s a vet, not a doctor,” Kyle said teasingly as he glanced at me watching them both so cautiously. “But as my wife likes to remind me when stray animals come to the door, all mammals can benefit from the same basics of first aid.”

“And people are mammals, too,” Jenny quipped at her husband as she extended a straw toward me. “Water?”

I sipped the icy drink, going too quickly and ending up coughing.

“Easy,” she urged again. “You’re safe here.”

But am I?

I doubted I’d feel safe until I got home and saw my sister, all who would be left of the family I once had.

“Take it slow,” Kyle said, nodding as he continued rocking with the baby. “I’m Kyle Peterson, and this is my wife Jenny,” he introduced. “Do you know your name?”

Finished with the water, I debated what to tell them. I couldn’t risk their knowing I was a Mafia princess on the loose. After I killed and beat off the guards at the house, I took the keys from them and sped away in the van that was likely intended for my transport. A vehicle was a faster way to leave, but it had also ensured other guards would chase after me.

I hadn’t driven anything before, and my reckless race from that property had ended up with a crash. Afterward, I’d run as far and fast as I could and I now had no clue where I was. I was ignorant of my location. I wanted to know if I’d gotten far enough from the Ilyins’ property to be confident that these strangers wouldn’t report my presence here.

“It’s okay,” Jenny said, clearly guessing I struggled with amnesia. “You can trust us.” Perhaps she was wisely guessing I struggled more with trusting anyone. “You can lie low. Recover. Relax. We will keep you safe here.”

Tears stung at my lids, and I gave up the fight to hold them back.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she said softly, offering me tissues. “It will be okay.”

I’d yearned to hear someone tell me that. I wished to have someone—anyone—convince me that there was a way out of misery. Jenny and Kyle had no clue how far fromokayI was, but I would forever treasure their being good, decent people to give a shit about a strange woman down on her luck.

Over the next few days, that was all they did. They cared. They gave me a warm bed to sleep in, food to eat, water to drink.Not once did they push for answers, giving me space and time to accept that I was safe. Eventually, though, once they showed that I would be safe here, Jenny grew bolder to ask me more questions.

“Do you know how far along you are?” she asked when she handed me clean clothes after a shower.

I shook my head.

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