I burst into tears, gasping and sobbing for each emotion I held inside. For loneliness, abandonment, emptiness, fear, and terror. It feels like years since we were last together. Since he was last letting me relax, last allowing me to feel, not survive, not fight, but settle at my north.
Safety and Clay Butcher.
Danger and my villain.
“You didn’t leave me,” I choke out.
“Not for a second, little deer.”
“You were always here.”
“I was here.”
“I wasn’t alone.”
“You were never alone. I watched over you through the sight, dividing my attention between you and our boys. When you fell to your knees in your hospital room, I was there. When you ran through the parking lot, I saw. When I couldn’t see you, you had a Butcher brother beside you. Forgive me for not being at your side, sweet girl, but no one else's finger could be on that trigger when our children were in danger."
He cradles my head, lets me expel all the hysteria I swallowed over the last twenty-four hours. I shatter in his arms, finally letting the tears and pathetic whimpers out where I know I’m safe. Safe to feel. To be soft.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” he whispers, pressing gentle kisses along my temple and cheek. “You felt alone, but you never were.”
My voice breaks as I say, “I was brave.”
“I knew you would be.” I feel his heart pounding, matching the heavy, obsessive rhythm of my own as if they are violently trying to become one. “I chose you, little deer. I choose you every day. Not just because you’re a survivor, beautiful, and unbreakable, but because I saw what kind of fierce mother you would be for my children. Vulnerable with me. Fierce for them. I‘ve got you now, sweet girl. Let go.”
I bury my face deeper into Sir’s neck, holding on to the only haven I’ve ever known.
“Put her down. You’ve been injured,oldman,” Xander mocks, but probably understands. He didn’t slow down after he was injured; ‘slow down and die,’ I remember him saying.
“I love you.” I cup Clay’s face and kiss his lips, tasting, savouring, rolling my mouth against his, sharing gasps and heated sighs, losing time to our connection.
“I’mdevotedto you. To you and the children you make for me. That will never change. It will never end.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
clay
She is so brave.
I leave our sons sleeping in their plastic clinic cots. As I open the hospital bathroom door, a cloud of steam envelops me, swirling around my body. I shut the heavy door with a click. I switch the fan on; the drone of sound and the water splashing create white noise.
We haven’t had a moment to breathe, to wash away the last twenty-four hours. So, I approach her. She's a petite figure amidst the thick, humid air, her head resting against the tiles, breathing, lost in thought. Water cascades down her crown, drawing her long blonde hair down to create a curtain around her.
Need you, little deer.
I undress quietly, removing my shirt and pants, and step into the shower, coming up behind her. I gather her hair, laying the long, wet strands down her spine like a thick wet rope.
I rub my big palms over her shoulders, massaging. She moans and rolls her neck. I feel smooth, wet skin, and beneath,small muscles and delicate bones. Anger builds within me as I see her bruises. The urge to wrap my body around hers, to physically give her my strength, my muscles, myself, is overwhelming.
“I’m here,” I growl.
My heart fucking throbs as I recall her collapsing in the hospital room, as I remember the flare of agony that jolted through me when I couldn’t react. Couldn’t gather her in my arms, soothe her, tell her she’s safe. That I will fix everything. I fix everything for her! That is what I do.
Christ.
“I lied to you,” I admit darkly. “And we don’t lie to each other. I apologise for that. I told you I knew you would be brave. That’s not true. I knew you would survive, but I did not know how it would play out. I’m so proud of you, sweet girl. I would not have been angry if, when you collapsed in your hospital room, you couldn’t find your feet again. Know that I would have come for you. If I had to crawl, if I had to bleed out, I would have still caught you.”
The memory pains me. I watched her rush through the parking lot, the crash still echoing through her. If I could have split myself in two, given her one half and my boys the other, I would have. I would have torn myself apart to be there for her, to keep my eyes on them. I've never felt more mortal, more out of control, than I have these past few days.
