Kevin always said comments about my appearance were for my own good, that he was just trying to help me be better. ButCade doesn't say it like that. He says it like a fact. Like he's seen too many people push past their limits and he's not going to let me do the same.
I sit at the small kitchen table and watch him cook.
He moves efficiently, no wasted motion, clearly comfortable in this space. The herbs he adds to the eggs smell incredible, things I can't identify but that make my mouth water. When he slides a plate in front of me a few minutes later, it's the most appetizing thing I've seen in months.
"Thank you." The words feel inadequate.
He sits across from me with his own plate, and we eat in silence for a while. It should be awkward. It's not. The quiet feels easy somehow, like neither of us needs to fill it with meaningless noise.
"The clothes fit okay?" he asks when I've cleared half my plate.
"Yes. Thank you. Where did you..." I trail off, not sure how to ask.
"Vivian. Deck's wife. She sent some stuff over this morning when I told the team I had a guest. She's about your size or was before the pregnancy."
He says it casually, like it's nothing, but I hear what he's not saying. He told his team about me. People know I'm here.
"Is that going to be a problem?" My appetite vanishes. "If my ex comes looking, I don't want anyone else getting hurt."
Cade sets down his fork. Those warm brown eyes meet mine, steady and serious.
"Natalie. My team is Guardian Peak Security. Former special forces, every one of us. Whatever your ex thinks he's capable of, I promise you, we've handled worse."
"You don't understand." I push the words out past the tightness in my throat. "Kevin isn't some random guy. He has money. Connections. He's a corporate lawyer with clients whoowe him favors. The restraining order didn't stop him. The police couldn't help. He'll find me eventually. He always does."
"Then he finds you here." Cade's voice is calm. Certain. "And he'll discover that I'm not the police, and I don't give a damn about his connections, and the only way he's getting to you is through me."
I stare at him. This man I met less than twenty-four hours ago, who found me broken in his woods and brought me home and treated my wounds and fed me breakfast. This man who's promising to protect me like it's the simplest thing in the world.
"Why?" The question comes out barely above a whisper. "Why would you do that for a stranger?"
He's quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is rougher than before.
"Because I spent ten years watching people suffer and not being able to stop it. Because I have the skills to help you and doing nothing would make me the kind of man I don't want to be." He pauses. "Because you walked thirty miles on cracked ribs to get away from him, and that kind of strength deserves someone in your corner."
My vision blurs. I blink rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.
"I'm not strong." My voice cracks. "I stayed with him for six years. Let him convince me I was worthless, that no one else would ever want me, that everything he did was my fault. A strong person would have left the first time he hit her."
"No." Cade leans forward, and there's an intensity in his eyes that makes my breath catch. "You survived. You got out. You're still fighting. That's not weakness, Natalie. That's the definition of strength."
No one has ever said anything like that to me. Not once in six years of bruises and broken bones and slowly losing myself one piece at a time.
A tear escapes down my cheek. Then another.
Cade doesn't move to touch me. Doesn't crowd me or make a big deal of it. Just sits there, solid and steady, letting me feel whatever I need to feel.
"Thank you." I wipe my face with the back of my hand. "For all of it. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
"Not looking for repayment." He stands and clears the plates, giving me a moment to compose myself. "Just looking to help. You can stay as long as you need. Figure out your next move when you're ready."
"I don't have a next move." The admission costs me something. "I have about eight hundred dollars in cash and the clothes on my back. My parents are dead, I don't have siblings, and Kevin made sure I lost touch with all my friends years ago. I'm thirty-one years old and I have nothing."
Cade turns from the sink, drying his hands on a dish towel. "You have a roof over your head. Food. Medical care. A lock on your door that works from the inside." He holds my gaze. "That's not nothing, Natalie. That's a start."
A start.
For three months, I've just been trying to survive. I hadn't let myself think beyond that. Beyond Kevin finding me again, beyond running out of money, beyond all the ways this could end badly.
