Grandpa squeezes my hand. “Thank you.”
Miles swallows hard, eyes shining with something he won’t let fall. “Always,” he says, voice rough.
Josie wipes her face with her sleeve, sniffing.
“Okay,” she statess shakily. “Okay, everybody breathe. Danae’s home.”
Home. The word lands different now.
Not just a place.
A miracle.
Inside, Grandpa lays back down in his bed falling asleep like his eye lids can’t hold the weight of the day anymore. Josie makes tea on autopilot. Raff checks the locks twice. Men drift outside, giving space, talking low.
Miles doesn’t sit. He stands in the corner of the living room like a guard dog, eyes tracking every window, every shadow.
I wash my hands at the sink for the third time even though the blood is already gone. I can’t stop. My skin feels contaminated with their fingerprints, their threats.
When I turn, Miles is right there.
He reaches for me carefully, like he’s asking permission with his eyes.
I nod. He cups my face in both hands and leans his forehead to mine. “You’re safe,” he murmurs.
I close my eyes, trembling. “I don’t feel safe.”
His thumbs brush my cheeks, wiping away tears I didn’t realize were still falling. “I know,” he says quietly. “But you are. You are now.”
I open my eyes. His are bloodshot. There’s grime at his hairline. He looks like he rode through hell and didn’t blink.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I whisper, even though the thought makes no sense, even though he’s the reason I’m standing here.
His expression turns fierce. “Don’t,” he says, voice sharp. “Don’t ever say that.”
I swallow. “Miles, you could’ve gotten killed.”
“I’m not leaving,” he states, cutting me off like he’s afraid the words will disappear if he doesn’t say them fast enough. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever, if you don’t want me to.”
My throat tightens. My whole body feels bruised inside, but the words land like warmth.
“You have a life,” I whisper. “North Carolina. The club. The road.”
He shakes his head, eyes locked on mine. “My life is wherever you are,” he says, rough and honest. “I been running my whole damn life. I’m done running away. I’m running right into this all day, every day and night. I want this Danae.”
The room goes quiet around us. Josie’s hand pauses on the kettle. Raff shifts, giving us space without leaving.
I stare at Miles, trying to process that someone like him could choose stillness. Could choose us.
And my anger flares, hot and sudden. “Those men took me from you,” I begin, voice shaking. “They, they said things. They,” My breath catches. “They used you like a threat. Like a joke.”
Miles’ eyes darken. His hands tighten gently on my face, steadying me.
“I’m here,” he says. “They don’t get to touch you now.”
Tears spill again, helpless. “I’m so tired,” I confess.
He nods like he understands that kind of tired. Bone-deep. Soul-deep. “Then you sleep,” he says. “I’ll be right here.”
