Raised her himself.
Didn’t trust the world with her. Didn’t trust that he’d always be around to stop it from taking something.
I understood that.
Before he rotated out, he looked me in the eye and said, “If she ever texts you, you go.”
I didn’t ask why me.
I didn’t ask why he trusted me with that.
I just nodded.
Because I knew what it meant to have nobody.
Because I knew what it meant to want one person safe in a world that eats the soft.
And then I saw her.
Months ago.
Curiosity isn’t my thing. I don’t follow it. I don’t chase it.
But Derek had given me her name. Her town. The job. Supermarket.
That’s all it took.
I tracked her down without trying too hard. Not because I couldn’t help myself.
Because I’d made a promise.
The first time I saw her, she was stocking shelves in a sweater too big for her, hair tied back, cheeks pink from the cold. Younger than I expected. She looked untouched by the kind of things I’d seen.
Then she looked up, and something in my chest tightened so fast it pissed me off.
Not lust.
Recognition.
Like my body knew her before my mind did.
Soft hazel eyes. Guarded mouth. A kind of quiet that wasn’t shyness. It was caution. The kind you learn young.
She didn’t see me.
Of course she didn’t.
I watched from the end of the aisle, hands in my pockets, blending into the regular world like I belonged there.
I didn’t.
But I watched.
I watched her check the door every time it opened.
I watched her flinch when a man got too close.
I watched her force a smile when someone spoke too loud.
