I rest my hands on his chest and feel his heart hammering under my palms. The worry is still there, but it feels smaller now, crowded out by the heat of his kiss and the steady weight of his words.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay. For now.”
He kisses my forehead, then my temple, then the corner of my mouth. “Not for now. For as long as it takes.”
I close my eyes and lean into him. The cabin is quiet around us except for the soft pop of the fire and the steady beat of his heart under my cheek.
For the first time since I ran, the future does not feel like something I have to face alone. And even though the fear of Dominic still lingers at the edges of my mind, right now, wrapped in Eli’s arms with the taste of his kiss still on my lips, I let myself believe we might actually beat it.
Together.
SIX
ELI
The cabin stays quiet except for the soft pop of the fire and the occasional creak of the floorboards under my boots. I move through the living room picking up the med kit I left open earlier, wiping down the counter after dinner, and folding the blanket Daisy used on the couch this afternoon. Every task is simple. Routine. The kind of work that usually clears my head. Tonight it does nothing but make the tension in my chest tighter.
She’s asleep in my bed again. I checked on her twenty minutes ago. She looked peaceful then, dark hair spread across my pillow, one hand curled near her cheek. The sight hit me harder than it should have. I’ve spent years keeping everything neat and separate. Patients are patients. Friends are friends. No overlap. No complications. Daisy walked through my gate and blew that rule to pieces in a single night.
I care about her. Really care. The kind of caring that has me listening for her breathing from the other room and checking the locks twice before I sit down. It goes against every promise I made to myself after the military. Keep it light. Keep it temporary. Don’t let anyone close enough to matter. Yet here Iam, wiping the same spot on the counter three times because my hands need something to do while my mind keeps circling back to her.
The kiss from earlier still burns on my lips. I told myself it was only to stop her from leaving. A way to make my point. But the way she kissed me back, the soft sound she made in her throat, the way her body fit against mine, none of that felt like a point. It felt like the start of something I don’t know how to finish.
A low whimper drifts from the bedroom. I freeze. Another sound follows, sharper, scared. I drop the dish towel and stride down the short hallway, heart already pounding.
Daisy thrashes under the quilt. Her face twists in fear. “No,” she mumbles. “Please. Don’t let him find me.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and rest a hand on her shoulder. “Daisy. Wake up. It’s just a dream.”
She jerks upright, eyes wide and unfocused. Her breath comes fast and shallow. Sweat dampens the hair at her temples. I keep my touch light but steady.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You’re safe. You’re in my cabin. No one’s here but me.”
She blinks a few times and finally focuses on my face. Recognition floods her expression. “Eli.”
“Yeah. I’m right here.”
She presses a hand to her chest like she’s trying to slow her heart. “It felt so real. Dominic was in the room. He had my father with him. They were dragging me out. I couldn’t run. My ankle wouldn’t work and they just kept coming closer.”
I slide my arm around her shoulders without thinking. She leans into me immediately, forehead against my collarbone. Her body trembles. I rub slow circles on her back, careful of the fading bruises.
“He’s not here,” I tell her. “He doesn’t know where you are. The team’s watching every road. Every camera. You’re safe tonight. I’ve got you.”
She stays pressed against me for a long minute. Her breathing evens out little by little. When she finally pulls back her eyes are still wide but the panic has softened into something quieter.
“Will you stay?” she asks. “In the bed with me? Just tonight. I know it’s a lot to ask but I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Everything in me tightens. The kiss from earlier already crossed a line. Lying in the same bed with her will test every bit of control I have left. But the fear still lingers in her voice and I can’t say no.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I’ll stay.”
I stand long enough to kick off my boots and pull off my shirt. I leave the sweatpants on. She scoots over and I slide under the quilt beside her. The mattress dips under my weight. She turns toward me right away, curling into my side like she belongs there. I wrap one arm around her and rest my other hand on her hip. The contact sends heat straight through me. I force my breathing to stay even.
We lie in the dark for a while. The fire in the living room pops softly. Wind moves through the pines outside. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my chest.
“Tell me about you,” she whispers. “How did you end up here? In Timber Creek. At Haven 7.”
I stare at the ceiling beams and let the memories come. They’re not pretty but they’re mine.
