“Princess, it’s okay! Accidents happen. Messes can be cleaned up. I promise you aren’t in trouble.” Gently cupping her cheek, I tilt her head up so she meets my eyes. My heart shatters seeing the devastation in her eyes. “Oh, sweetheart.” Without thinking, I pull her into my arms. Her sleep shorts are wet, but I couldn’t care less. Clothes can easily be washed, but tiny hearts cannot be so easily healed.
Both bedroom doors swing open within seconds of each other. Shepherd is on alert, his Alpha close to the surface as he senses a member of his pack in distress. Hannah looks around frantically, searching for a threat that isn’t here. Cupping the back of Kaitlin’s head, I point to the small puddle. Her shoulders fall, and she drops to the floor beside us, earning a huff and a glare from Shepherd.
“Little Bug.” Her voice is soft as she rubs her daughter’s back.
I expect Kait to want to go to her mother, but she clings to me instead. Tiny fists digging into my shirt. “It’s okay. You aren’t in trouble.” I repeat this over and over, rocking her gently while Shepherd silently cleans up the mess and grabs her clean clothes from their bedroom. Our princess’s sobs slowly turn to sniffles, her body relaxing until she’s resting against me.
“How about we get a quick bath to wash you off?” Hannah suggests, brushing Kaitlin’s hair away from her face when she turns to look at her. I stand with her in my arms when she nods, watching Shepherd help pull Hannah to her feet. She groans in discomfort, but doesn’t complain about sitting on the hard floor for so long.
Walking into the bathroom, I start the water so it can warm up. While it heats, I sit Kaitlin on her feet, crouching so she can see my face. “Look at that, Princess, the mess is all cleaned up. Shep brought you clean clothes, and Mommy is going to help you take a bath. That’s what I want you to remember, okay? You’ll never be in trouble for having an accident or making a mess. We’re all here to help.”
“O-okay.” Her voice is still shaky, but she doesn’t seem as upset as she was a few moments ago.
Smiling, I ruffle her hair and leave them to their bath. My clothes are wet, so I head into the bedroom to change. My movements are rough, angry. It’s bothering me. Her reaction.Is she afraid of being noisy and making messes because her asshole father hit her?We know so little about their life in New Hampshire that it’s hard to know how to handle situations like this when they arise. But I cannot bring myself to ask Hannah to rehash any abuse she’s faced just to sate my need to know about it.
“Foster?”
Shepherd’s presence does little to settle me. I’m a mess. The drawer slams as I shut it, my fingers biting into the top of the dresser. “Do you think he hit them?” I ask, spinning around to face him. “Or was his abuse emotional? Because both our girls are traumatized, and I. Don’t. Know. How. To. Fix. It!”
His arms wrap around me, pressing my face into his chest. Small hints of his scent leak through now that he’s stopped taking his scent cancellers. The barest notes of bergamot and sandalwood, not enough to take the edge off my tumultuous emotions.
“Kaitlin’s response could stem from abuse, or it could be the stress of fleeing her home and moving into a new house with strangers. We won’t know until they tell us. All we can do is love them, support them as best as we can, and help them move forward.”
I deflate, collapsing against him as tears build in my eyes. He’s right. No matter how her husband justified his actions, they would never be forgivable. And I can’t go back in time to pull them out earlier.
“Okay. Doesn’t make this any easier, but I get it. I need to be patient.”
Shepherd holds me tighter, pressing his lips to the top of my head. “I know patience is difficult for you, Baby. Being yourself will help more than you think. There will be triggers, bad days that leave us all a wreck. But whatever they’ve been through, we will protect them. Make sure those assholes never have the chance to hurt them again.”
Clinging to him, we listen as Hannah sings to Kaitlin while she bathes. The soft lull of her voice does wonders to calm all of us, even when it’s dulled by the closed bathroom door.
We will get through this. Help them heal. Then we can be the pack we were always meant to be.
Chapter Eight
Leaningmy head against the edge of the tub, I fight back another wave of nausea. Morning sickness has plagued me on and off throughout this pregnancy, worsening with my growing stress levels. Most mornings, I would suffer through the waves, but I don’t want to wake everyone with my retching, not after Kaitlin’s accident and breakdown late last night.
Waking to her sobbing in Foster’s arms, apologizing for not making it to the bathroom, broke me. I’ve failed her. Allowed her fragile heart to be battered by Colin and my parents. They may not have hit her, but words can scar, creating wounds that aren’t as easy to patch.
I should have left. Risked facing the threats against us so that I could get her to safety before they could hurt her.
Cradling my daughter closer to my chest, I hum softly, trying to soothe her. She’s crying, nearly inconsolable from thepain in her tiny stomach. Her little face red from the strain. It’s almost one in the morning now, and she still hasn’t settled.
I can handle sleepless nights caring for her, but Colin cannot. He’s furious, towering over both of us as he screams. Anger boils inside me, making me want to lash out. She’s only a few months old. How dare he yell at her for voicing her pain?!
Unfortunately, I know the consequences of rebelling from my role as the submissive wife. He won’t hurt me. No, he will go to my father, and I will face his punishment instead. With Father, there is always a chance I won’t survive. I cannot risk something happening to me. If I’m not here, who will care for Kaitlin?
“Shut her up,” Colin screams. The volume of his voice makes the baby cry harder. It’s an endless cycle of overstimulation that none of us can escape.
“I’m sorry,” I rush out, rocking back and forth to comfort my daughter. “I’ll get her settled, I promise. Please go lie down. She won’t wake you again.”
“She’d better not, or there will be hell to pay for both of you. What kind of mother cannot stop her baby from crying?”
I flinch as the nursery door slams shut behind him. My knees go weak, pulling me to the floor as the first tear leaks from my eyes. We need to leave. When it was just me, I could handle staying here and pretending, but now that I have Kaitlin, the emotional whiplash isn’t worth it.
Tomorrow I will call my contact at the DAU and ask them to pull us out. It’s time I earned the freedom I’ve worked so tirelessly to achieve.
Pushing to my feet, I slip onto the rocking chair and press Kaitlin’s belly against my body. The warmth and pressure help to ease her pain, slowly calming her cries until she’s snoring softly in my arms. Careful not to jar her awake, I pull blankets from the closet and pile them onto the floor. I’m too afraid tomove her into her crib, not when she has settled. Colin’s threats weren’t idle. If sleeping on the nursery floor with her in my arms is the only way to keep her quiet, I will gladly sacrifice for her.
