Page 174 of Deacon

“I know. Thank you,” he says, “but I’d like to get Freya home.”

The way he says that word—home—makes me feel like I finally understand what it means. Keira excuses herself, and silence falls as Deacon sinks down onto the chair. I shift to my side, laying my cheek on my arm. Now that the dust has settled, I have questions about what we went through in the past twenty-four hours—and before that.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“There are some things you did, and I don’t know how to feel about them,” I whisper.

He sinks from the chair to his knees by the bed. His touch skims my cheek, brushing my hair back.

“Are you talking about tapping your phone?”

My brows rise. “No, I didn’t know about that part.”

There’s a short silence.

His jaw works, a crease appearing on his forehead. His dark gaze is soft as ever. Tonight, that softness drives the fear that’s been in my chest for years away. I know he’s psychotic, but with me, he’s so gentle. It heals the damaged parts of my heart.

None of this matters. I’ve made my choice.

“I know there was no accident on the highway,” I whisper. “And I know you’ve been trying to get me pregnant this whole time.”

He doesn’t speak for a second. Then, he clears his throat.

“How does that make you feel?” he asks.

I touch his hand, gripping it. Tonight, he risked everything. He was faced with an impossible situation, a losing battle. Yet, he found a way through and got me safely to Sovereign Mountain, away from the bloodshed. He might be a hurricane, but I was always safe in the eye of it.

“It makes me feel safe,” I manage. “And scared for anybody who makes you their enemy.”

The corner of his mouth turns up. He bends in, kissing my temple. His hands slides down my waist, lingering on my lower belly. I remember all the times he came in me when he should have pulled out.

I can’t totally blame him for this pregnancy. I’m guilty of being just as careless about birth control. I was just too scared of the past to consider the possibility of a family with him.

“Tell me what it looks like,” I whisper.

He shifts onto the bed, stretching out to face me. “Our future?”

I nod. He draws me closer, letting me curl up against his chest. When I turn my head, I can hear his heart thump under my ear.

“It looks like you being happy,” he says. “We have a family. I’ll get you the help you need so that you still have time to do whatever you want. You can collect bugs. Hell, you can go to college and study bugs if you want.”

I laugh. “I’m happy to just collect,” I whisper. “I don’t want my life to be complicated. All I want is peace.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you get that,” he promises.

My throat is tight with unshed tears. The generations of people who came before me were mired in pain. I thought that avoiding men like Deacon would save me, but I was completely wrong about him. He might look rough, but inside, he’s the purist person I’ve met.

He’s the cycle breaker, the person who steps in and changes everything.

“Let’s sleep for a bit then go home,” I whisper, offering a weak smile.

He clears his throat. “You don’t know what it means to hear you call Ryder Ranch home.”

I don’t answer. Instead, I just close my eyes and reach for his hand.

It feels like a long ride back to Ryder Ranch. Deacon puts me in the passenger seat wrapped in a blanket. He put his old clothes on after Keira took them out of the dryer, and I try not to notice the bloodstains on his shirt. Instead, I focus on his hand wrapped around mine all the way home.

The days that follow are the quietest of my life. Deacon sets up another appointment with a doctor in South Platte, but it’s a few weeks away, so there’s nothing for me to do but try to adjust toeverything. Ginny stays at the house with me while Deacon cleans up at the McClaine Ranch. Tracy comes to visit, bringing pastries.

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