“You’re not my dad,” Lucas snapped.
“No.” I took in a deep breath and faced him. “I’m the man standing between them and your sister.”
Lucas’s jaw clenched. He looked away, anger and fear tangling in his expression, then shoved past us into the house. He slammed the front door hard enough to rattle the frame.
Marisol stood there shaking, staring at the door like it might open again and swallow her whole.
“They’re watching us,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She turned to me slowly, her eyes bright with fear. “You promised you’d keep us safe.”
“I will, but I can’t promise it won’t get worse before it gets better.”
For a moment, she looked like she might try to argue with me. Then her expression softened, the fight draining out of her as the reality settled in. I stepped closer, stopping just short of touching her. Close enough that I could feel the tension radiating off her, close enough to see the fine worry lines between her brows.
“You should go inside,” I said, my voice soft.
She didn’t move. “Are we safe?”
“For now.”
Her mouth trembled. “For now isn’t comforting.”
“I know.”
She looked up at me then, and for a second the fear gave way to something quieter. Something that didn’t belong in a situation like this. Something that made my chest tighten and my mouth go dry.
“Why are you really here?” she asked.
“Because you need protection.”
Her gaze searched my face, lingering, trying to read between the lines. “That’s not the whole truth.”
I held her eyes. “It’s the only one I’m allowed to give.”
She nodded slowly, accepting the answer even if she didn’t like it. Then her attention shifted, following my line of sight down the street.
The dark sedan stopped at the end of the block, engine running, lights off, tucked just far enough into the shadows to pretend it belonged there.
Her breath stuttered. “Is that them?”
“Yes.” I shifted my stance without thinking, placing myself between her and the car. It was instinct, old training, and something more personal tangled together. “Go inside.”
She hesitated, her fingers brushing my arm as she stepped back into the doorway.
The street was quiet. The danger was no longer hiding. And neither was the pull between us.
CHAPTER 4
MARISOL
The soundof a truck idling outside had become a regular part of my mornings. A Lone Star SUV parked just down the block. It sat there every day now, dark windows facing my front door, its presence both unsettling and strangely comforting. Some mornings, I stood at the sink with my coffee and watched it through the window until the heat seeped out of my mug.
It was a reminder that nothing about our lives was normal anymore.
Lucas hated it. He stood at the counter in his hoodie and backpack, stabbing his fork into a piece of French toast like he was preventing it from jumping off his plate and attacking. His phone buzzed, and he flinched before shoving it face down on the table.
