Page 366 of Branded
Then Cas had the assistance of Lake, who stood shoulder to shoulder with him, arms crossed, face thunderous.
Lake.
God. My Lake.
I’d pushed him away for more than five years and he still had my back.
And that—as I stood smack dab in the middle of my worst nightmare—was when I understood why I’d been able to trust Cas, how I’d been able to do it so quickly after everything had happened.
Because despite everything, I’d had one good man in my life growing up.
And he was standing next to the man I loved now.
Nate’s voice rose. “Get the fuck out of my way and?—”
“Don’t do that in front of Ethan,” Cas snapped, fiercely enough that miracle of miracles, Nate shut up again.
“Mom?” An uncertain question from my son.
I turned, plastered a smile on my face. “It’s okay, honey. But we do need to have an adult conversation”—a snort from Nate—“so why don’t you and Smitty go have fun and I’ll catch up with you in a little bit?”
He bit his lip, clearly not buying my explanation or my fake smile. “I’ll be right there.” I called on all of my limited acting skills and added, “Promise.”
“And promises are made for keeping,” he said, his expression relaxing.
I saw Nate jerk out of the corner of my eye, but didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, I just focused on what was important.
Ethan.
“Exactly, bud,” I said.
“Smitty?” Cas asked once Ethan had nodded, had smiled back at me. It was less question and was more like an order, and a sharp one at that.
But Smitty didn’t rebuke it.
He just said, “On it,” and took off back around the corner with Ethan on his big, broad shoulders. Maybe that should have scared me, a big man just taking off with my kid. But I knew Smitty, and I knew Cas, and I knew that they both would do anything to protect my son.
So, I didn’t comment on Cas’s order or on Smitty’s actions.
In fact, I didn’t comment on anything else.
Not until I was certain that Smitty and Ethan were out of earshot, that my son was safe. Not even when Theo appeared as Smitty disappeared, his expression darkening as he moved toward our trio, making it clear he was throwing down with Lake and Cas.
Only then did I turn to Nate, prepared to confront all that mean.
Cas stepped toward me, taking my hand, tucking me behind him. Protecting. Again. Only this time, it was me and not Ethan.
I clenched at his fingers.
He was calm and steady and Cas.
“That’s my son,” Nate said.
And it wasn’t mean.
That alone had me looking through a gap in the broad wall Cas and Lake and Theo were forming, had me studying Nate’s face.
“That’s my son,” he said again.
