She nods.
Heat flares in my chest, and I clench my fists. My son and the only woman I’ve ever had feelings for are on that property. There is no fucking way I’m leaving them in that house alone when someone is threatening them.
“I’m moving in.”
Paige’s mouth drops open. “You’re what?”
“I’m not leaving you and Noah alone, so either you move into my small, one room unit here, or I’m moving in with you.”
“You can’t be serious? You’re as bad as Hudson.”
I remember Hudson’s words.Paige and Noah’s safety is your responsibility now.I thought he was exaggerating, but this surge of protectiveness in my chest is all real.
“You can’t move in, Ryan. You’ve got to be here for physio and to get treatment.”
She’s right, but this place is just a stepping stone. As long as I can get to my appointments, there’s no need to be here.
“I can live in the community. I’ll get a lift in for my appointments until I figure out how to drive again.”
She shakes her head, and there’s sadness in her eyes. “Ryan. I appreciate the sentiment, but you can’t move in.” She puts her hands on the sides of the chair. “My home isn’t accessible. Until you’re using a prosthetic, you wouldn’t even make it up the steps to get inside.”
Her gaze finds mine, and I see compassion there.
As much as I hate it, she’s right. As long as I’m stuck in this chair, I’m no use to her.
“Fuck.” I slam my hands down on the chair, and she jumps back, while Noah stares at me with wide eyes. “Sorry,” I mutter, feeling even worse for scaring them.
Paige gives me a wry smile. “It’s not the first time he’s heard that word.” She scoops him up and swings him onto her hip. “We need to get going. I’m fine, Ryan, really. I can take care of myself.”
She walks off, and I’m left watching them go. Paige is capable, but she shouldn’t have to take care of herself, not with something like this.
I run a hand down my face and over my stubble. I need to get out of this chair and walking again. I need to get on that prosthetic if I’m going to protect my woman and child.
22
PAIGE
The blankets tangle in my legs, and I kick them off. I roll onto my side and stare at the open door that leads to the hallway. There’s no noise coming from Noah’s room, and a mother’s fear grips me like an icy clamp around my heart.
He’s just sleeping, I tell myself, as I slip out of bed and pad to his room. A nightlight casts an orange glow over the cot bed and the small bundle lying there. He’s on his back with the covers thrown off and one arm over his head. I lean right over until I detect the rise and fall of his chest and feel his breath on my cheek. Only then does the fear melt from my heart.
I pull the blanket up, then pad back to bed and slip between the sheets. I check my phone, and it’s 1:57 a.m. But when I try to sleep, my mind goes to Ryan, and the hurt in his eyes when I explained about the house, followed by the determination to do something about it. When I think about the way he volunteered to move in, to take care of Noah, my heart melts.
He’s a good guy, but I knew that already from our time together. I buried that memory a long time ago, but seeing him again and spending time with him has cracked open a fissure in my heart.
My thoughts are jolted by a noise outside. I roll onto my back and strain to hear. My bedroom is on the side of the house next to my work shed, and it sounded like a stack of pots falling over.
It must be the raccoons getting into everything.
I sit up and strain my ears to listen. There’s another noise—the slow creep of footsteps. My heart leaps into my throat, and I switch on the bedroom light.
Footsteps hurry down the driveway.
With a racing heart, I grab the baseball bat I keep by the bed and race to the front door. I fling it open and jog down the steps, my bare feet slapping against the concrete.
A car screeches away, and I race to the end of the driveway. It turns onto the next road before I can catch it. If I chase after it, I could catch the license plate. I glance back at the house and the wide-open door. I can’t leave Noah.
I walk back to the house and check the shed. A stack of pots rolls onto the ground, but nothing else is damaged. I must have scared them off when I switched on the light.
