“I’m not going to tackle her,” Ally snaps.“Unless she scares me again.”
Ledger mutters something that might be a curse or a prayer.I follow them inside slowly.The cabin smells like cedar and smoke and something warm I can’t quite place.Something like comfort.
Ledger leads me to a large bedroom with crisp sheets, a fluffy duvet, more pillows than any man ever cares to have, and blackout curtains from floor to ceiling in a way I can only assume means the windows are that big.
“You’ll stay here,” he says.“I’ll be in the room down the hall.Brothers will rotate outside.You will not be unprotected.”
It should terrify me.Instead, the weight of safety settles over my shoulders like a heavy blanket.
“Ledger?”I whisper.
He turns, hand still on the doorframe.
“Thank you,” I manage barely above a whisper.
He swallows visibly, like the words knock something loose inside him.
Then he steps closer.Not touching.But close enough that warmth radiates off him.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs.“I won’t leave.Not until you remember.Not until you’re safe.Not until you tell me to.”
My heart flips.“I don’t want you to,” I confess.
His breath hitches.For a moment, a long, quiet moment, we just stand there, staring at each other, the space between us charged and soft and terrifying.
The moment is disturbed by a noise on the other side of the curtains.Outside there is a crunch of gravel.
His entire body goes rigid.He steps in front of me without hesitation, hand already on the gun at his hip.
“Stay here,” he orders.“Don’t move.”
My pulse races as he slips out the door silently, a shadow of lethal intent.Apparently there is a balcony of sorts or something on the other side of this room.I wonder what pushing the curtains back would be like, but don’t dare try.
A second later, I hear voices.
Low.Urgent.
Not angry, but alert.
Then footsteps return.
Ledger steps back inside, shoulders tight, jaw clenched.
“What happened?”I whisper.
He shuts the door with a soft click.
“Someone was watchin’ the cabin from the tree line,” he says, voice dark.
Ice floods my veins.“Who?”
He shakes his head once.“Didn’t see his face.But he ran.”
My breath trembles.Ledger steps closer, eyes fierce with a vow he doesn’t say out loud.“You’re safe,” he murmurs.“I’ve got you.”
“You’ll be here tonight, right?Don’t leave me.”The last sentence comes out on a whisper.
And for the first time since waking in that hospital bed, I believe this is one truth both from the past and here in the present.
