Not until he does something worse.
We both know how this works.Declan's clever.Always was.He knows exactly how far he can push without crossing legal lines.A text isn't enough.Being in the neighborhood isn't enough.
It's never enough until it's too late.
"What about the club?"Mam asks carefully."That friend of yours—Ciara's fella.Isn't he part of that motorcycle club?"
"The Fury Vipers.Yeah."
"Could they help?Keep an eye out?"
I think about Tank, about the way he looked at me in the pub today.About last night—his hands, his voice, the way he said my name like it was the only name that mattered.
"There's—there's someone," I admit quietly."One of the brothers.Tank.We've...it's complicated."
Mam's eyebrows go up."Complicated how?"
"Just complicated."I can't explain it, can't put into words what happened between us."He was at the pub today.After I got the text, I think..."I stop."I think he might've followed me home.To make sure I was safe."
"He followed you?"
"Not in a creepy way.In a..."I search for the word, "protective way.I think."
Mam studies my face, and I can see her working through it.The concern, the curiosity, the maternal instinct to ask a thousand questions I don't have answers to.
"Do you trust him?"she asks finally.
Do I?
I trusted him enough to go to his room.Trusted him enough to let him touch me, hold me, say my name like a prayer.Trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms.
But trust and safety are different things.And bringing Tank into this—letting him know about Declan, about the danger—that's not just trusting him with me.It's trusting him with Warren.
"I don't know," I whisper."I barely know him, Mam.But he..."My throat tightens."He makes me feel safe.Which is stupid because I barely know him and I've already been down this road and?—"
"Hey."Mam squeezes my hand again."Listen to me.You're not stupid.You're scared.There's a difference.And if this Tank makes you feel safe, if he's already watching out for you without being asked, that says something."
"It says he's reckless.Getting involved with me when Declan's circling?That's dangerous for him."
"Maybe that's his choice to make."
I shake my head."I can't—I can't drag someone else into this.I can't risk him getting hurt because of me.I can't risk Warren—" My voice breaks.
Mam pulls me into a hug, and I let her.I let myself be small and scared and held.
"We'll figure it out," she murmurs against my hair."We always do.But, love, you can't do everything alone.Sometimes asking for help is the strongest thing you can do."
But asking for help means admitting I need it.It means admitting I'm scared.It means letting someone in.
And letting people in is how you get hurt.
* * *
I leave Mam's room eventually, her words still echoing in my head, and make my way back to my own room, closing the door quietly behind me.
The phone's on my nightstand.I stare at it, half-expecting another message.Another threat.
But the screen stays dark.
