I, however, couldn’t sleep.
Not just because today’s attack kept playing over and over in my mind, making my heart race and palms slick with sweat, not just because my face was pulsing with pain … but because I owed Fyfe an apology. I couldn’t say it in front of an audience. But I didn’t think I could sleep until he knew how sorry I was.
Though my parents were quiet, I heard them come upstairs and close themselves in their bedroom. A while later, being careful not to wake Mor, I climbed out of bed and tiptoed downstairs. Sticking my feet into boots I kept at the side entrance, I let myself out and hurried over to the annex.
I knocked softly. “Fyfe?”
Almost immediately, I heard movement inside and a few seconds later, the door swung open.
Fyfe stepped back to allow me entrance and then closed the door behind me.
The travel cot was set up by the bed and Millie was sound asleep.
Tears brightened my eyes, her wails from earlier filling my mind.
I whirled on Fyfe. He’d put on his glasses and though his hair was mussed and he was half-dressed, he didn’t appear as if I’d woken him up. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered on a sob. “I’m so sorry.”
His expression tightened before he drew me into his arms.
I buried my face against his naked chest, my tears wetting his skin as I cried quietly.
“Hush. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he declared firmly as he stroked a hand down my hair.
I shook my head. “I put Millie in danger.”
“No.” Fyfe drew me back and gently cradled my bruised face, his head bending to mine. “Baby, no. Please don’t take that on.”
“Wh-what i-if s-s-something ha-happened t-to her?” I stuttered, struggling to breathe properly through my tears.
Fyfe pressed a firm kiss to my forehead before leading me over to the bed. He took both my hands in his. “Breathe, baby.” He pulled in a breath through his nose and slowly exhaled. “Copy me.”
My grip on his hands had to be bruising, but Fyfe didn’t react, just breathed with me until I’d calmed down.
Eventually, he slid an arm around my shoulders. “Is that why you wouldn’t look at me earlier? Because you feel guilty?”
“Yes.”
“I … I was worried you were mad at me. Because I told you that you were safe in my house.”
I gaped at him in shock, feeling even worse for my behavior. “No. Fyfe, no. Never.”
Familiar guilt reflected in his eyes. “I didn’t keep you safe.”
“You saved me.” Now I cupped his face, his short beard scratching my palms.
“You were doing a pretty damn good job of saving yourself.”
My lips trembled. “Is Millie okay?”
“She’s completely fine. A resilient wee girl who will never remember this day.” Fyfe brushed his fingertips over my swollen cheek. “If that gun was in my hand and not Walker’s, I would have put the bullet through his head.”
I shivered at the thought, curling my fingers around his strong wrist. “Then it’s a good thing you didn’t have the gun. I need you here, Fyfe. Not in prison.”
He grew alert. “Doyou need me?”
Fresh tears burned my eyes. “Far longer than you’ve ever known.”
Fyfe shook his head. “I wish I’d been who I am now back then. Instead of wasting all that time.”
