Page 84 of Protect

I’m ready for my workout so I chuckle and move to stand.

“One second there. What’s your week like, King?” Jack asks. I’m not sure, but I think the look of a school kid getting in shit from his principal just took over my face.

“Uh…not too busy, what can I do for you sir?”

He nods. “Stop by the house sometime over the next couple days, just want to catch up.”

“Sounds good,” I say to him before he offers his goodbyes to us and heads back to the stockroom.

Sup starts to chuckle as he stands, putting his phone into his back pocket and pushing his chair in. Cal follows suit.

“He’s on to you, you’re in shit now,” Cal says as he throws a twenty on the table.

“He probably wants my help with something,” I retort. It’s not uncommon for me to help him around the house since Jacob died.

“Keep telling yourself that, bud,” Sup says with a big grin as he pats me on the shoulder.

“My guess? You’re about to get the ‘hurt my daughter and I’ll be kicking your ass’speech,” Sup says.

Apparently, they think they’re pretty funny, laughing as we leave Shifty’s. It’s about halfway home when I realize Jack does know pretty much everything that goes on in this town. He would fiercely defend his daughter and while I have the best intentions with Violette, I do have a bit of a reputation from my earlier years.

By the time I’ve pulled into my driveway I realize that they’re probably right. I am about to get the talk.

Well, shit.

I meet Opp at the gym and move through an intense workout. Probably the hardest one I’ve had since my injury and I’m feeling it by the time I leave. My muscles are tight and sore but the only thing I can think of is getting home, showering, and heading to Violette’s.

Only thing is, she hasn’t answered me since lunch, but I know she’s busy with Hollie.

I quickly shower and do my best not to brick myself up while thinking of Violette’s wet, warm body in the shower with me.

By 5:30 p.m., I’ve got my truck packed up with snacks, drinks, and my grandfather’s custom Euchre set for after Hollie goes to bed. As I get into my truck, I worry that Violette still not answering me is her way of doing her turtle thing, hiding on me. All I want is the chance to show her how I can add to her life, how I can help, not take away her time with Hollie. I go over everything I’m going to say to her tonight as I drive.

We can go as slow as you want.

I wouldn’t even think of rushing anything with you or Hollie.

You deserve so much. You deserve it all.

I’ve got it all figured out by the time I pull into her driveway, but the moment she opens the door and holds her finger to her lips toshhhme, I understand why she hasn’t texted me back. She looks awful. Still beautiful, but awful.

“Fuck, love…” I whisper, bringing her into my arms, resting my wrist to her forehead. She feels hot as fuck.

“I didn’t have a chance to text you. I'm sorry you came all the way here,” Violette says into my T-shirt. She is wearing tights and the vintage Sky Ridge hotshots hoodie I left her this morning. Her hair is loose and wavy, but she looks…wrong. Pale and clammy.

“Hollie started with some kind of stomach bug after lunch, she was sick every twenty minutes all afternoon, but I think she’s over the worst of it, she’s sleeping now,” Violette whispers as we come through the front door. “Except now, I think I have a fever and I feel really nauseous.”

She holds a hand to her forehead, then reaches out to run her hand down my forearm. “Save yourself,” she says with a weak sort of smirk. How does this woman have the stomach flu but still look so goddamn enticing?

I don’t tell her that there isn’t a shot in hell I wouldn’t have come here, even if she had texted me. I take the cards, drinks, and snacks I brought into her foyer, knowing we won’t be touching them. “Seriously, Rowan, I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Don’t worry about me, Vi, I never get sick.”

“I have nurse immunity, yet I’m still sick,” she deadpans.

I chuckle softly as I take my shoes off.

“If I could guarantee you that I wouldn’t get sick, would youwantme to stay?” I enter the living room and see little Hollie laying on the couch all snuggled up, her cheeks are rosier than normal, and a plastic Tupperware bowl sits beside her on the floor. It tugs at my heart, and the feeling to do whatever Hollie needs to help her feel better almost overwhelms me.

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