"Maybe," she whispers.
"No, you don't." I lean back. "You’re here to watch Maddie. You’re here to paint pictures and sing songs and keep the darkness out of her life. You’re not here to look into the abyss."
"Maybe the abyss is lonely," she challenges.
I nearly choke. She has no idea. No idea how lonely it is. No idea how much I want to drag her into it with me.
"Eat your lunch," I command.
We finish the meal in silence. Maddie chatters away, bridging the gap between us. She tells Bianca about school, about theteacher who gives out gold stars, about the time Uncle Austin let her sit on his bike. Bianca listens intently, treating Maddie’s stories like they are the most important news in the world.
Something settles in my chest watching them. A heavy, possessive weight.
Bianca isn't leaving. I won’t let her.
I check my phone. A text from Logan.
New girl work out?
I type back instantly.
She stays.
Good,Logan replies.Keep her close. Heard chatter in town. Sterling is asking about new faces.
My jaw tightens. Sterling. The billionaire lodge owner. He’s harmless enough, but if he’s asking, it means people are watching.
I stand up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Bianca jumps again. She’s skittish. I need to fix that. I need her to realize that I’m the safest thing in these woods, as long as she belongs to me.
"I have work to do outside. Bianca, you’re on duty. Maddie, show her the playroom. Do not go outside."
"Yes, Daddy," Maddie says, hopping off the counter.
Bianca stands up, wiping her hands on a napkin. "Will you be back for dinner?"
It’s such a domestic question. A wife question.
"Yeah," I say. "I'll be back."
I turn to leave, but I stop at the doorway. I look back. Bianca watches me, her eyes tracking the width of my shoulders. She bites her lip.
"Lock the door behind me," I order.
She presses her lips together in a firm line.
I step out onto the porch, the cold mountain air hitting my face. It’s a relief after the heat of the kitchen. I walk down the steps, my boots crunching on the gravel. I patrol the perimeter of the cabin, checking the sightlines. The pines are thick here, a natural wall, but I verify every shadow.
I end up at the woodpile, grabbing the axe. I need to hit something. I need to burn this energy before I do something stupid, like march back inside, throw Bianca over my shoulder, and carry her to my bed.
I bring the blade down. The wood splits with a sharp crack.
She’s too soft for this life. An artist. A city girl. She wears bright colors and talks about "Bumblebees." She doesn't belong in a world of cuts, guns, and territory wars.
Another strike. Another split log.
But she’s here. The instant she stepped onto my land, she became my responsibility. My protection.
I think about the way she looked at me. She looked at me with hunger. She wants me. She doesn't know why, and she’s trying to hide it, but I can smell it.
