Yeah, I'm in no position to lecture Beast about inappropriate attractions.
But that doesn't mean I won't try. Because that's what big brothers do, even ones who've been absent for too long
Chapter 4 - Amelia
The cabin is nothing like I expected. When Tank mentioned a "safe house," I pictured something sparse and cold with concrete walls, metal doors, maybe bars on the windows. Instead, it's almost... cozy. Knotty pine walls give off a warm glow in the lamplight. A stone fireplace dominates one wall of the living room, with comfortable-looking furniture arranged around it. The kitchen is small but functional, with a round oak table and four chairs.
It feels like a vacation home, not a fortress. But as I watch Tank and Beast check windows, doors, and sightlines, I'm reminded that this place was chosen for its defensibility as much as its comfort.
"Mommy, can I sleep with Hoppy on the couch?" Anna asks, already curled up on the oversized sofa, her stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm.
"There's a proper bed for you, sweetheart," I tell her, brushing her blonde curls away from her forehead. "With soft blankets and everything."
"But I like it here. I can see everyone."
The innocent admission breaks my heart. Of course she wants to be where she can see everyone, where she can make sure we're all safe. Where she can monitor for danger. At five years old, my daughter has already developed the hypervigilance of a combat veteran.
"How about we leave your door open?" I suggest. "That way, you can hear us, and we can hear you."
She considers this compromise with adorable seriousness. "Promise you won't close it? Even a little bit?"
"I promise."
Satisfied, she allows Jenny to lead her to the smaller bedroom to get ready for bed. I watch them go, overwhelmed by a rush of gratitude for my friend. Jenny has been my rock through all of this—helping me plan our escape, offering her brother's protection without hesitation, and now gently coaxing Anna through the trauma of displacement.
"She'll be okay."
I turn to find Tank standing beside me, his massive presence somehow reassuring rather than intimidating. In the soft light of the cabin, his hard edges seem less severe, though no less dangerous.
"Will she?" I ask quietly. "She's five. She should be worrying about kindergarten and favorite cartoons, not whether her father is going to hurt her mother again."
"Kids are resilient," he says. "More than we give them credit for. And she has you."
"I let this happen," I whisper, giving voice to the guilt that's been eating at me for years. "I stayed too long. I told myself it wasn't that bad, that it would get better, that leaving would be worse somehow."
Tank is silent for a long moment, and when he speaks, his voice is low and measured. "My father was... controlling. Never hit our mother, but he broke her spirit piece by piece. Made her feel worthless. Isolated her from friends and family. Sound familiar?"
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
"I used to ask myself why she didn't leave," he continues. "It took me years to understand how trapped she must have felt. Howthe fear of the unknown can sometimes outweigh the fear of the familiar, even when the familiar is hell."
"What happened to her?" I dare to ask.
"Cancer. She died while I was deployed. By then, she was just a shadow of herself. Jenny was sixteen, left alone with him."
"That's why you feel responsible for her. Why you're helping us even though you haven't spoken in years."
"I should have been there for her after our mother died. Instead, I reenlisted. Told myself I was doing my duty to my country, but really, I was running from my duty to her."
The raw honesty in his admission catches me off guard. This intimidating man with his cold eyes and capable hands has just revealed a vulnerability I never expected to see.
"She doesn't blame you," I tell him gently. "Jenny's never said a bad word about you. Not once."
He gives a short, humorless laugh. "She should."
Before I can respond, my phone vibrates in my pocket. The familiar sensation sends ice through my veins. Derek. With trembling fingers, I pull out the phone and look at the screen. Sure enough, his name appears with a new message:
*Found your trail, Amelia. Blackwater Falls? Really? I'll see you soon, baby.*
