I tried to read Burke’s face, but it was locked down, eyes narrow and sharp. “Did he ever hurt your mom?”
“Only when he was really mad. Or when she tried to stick up for me. She mostly kept her head down. Sometimes, if I got really beat up, she’d sneak me Advil and frozen peas. But she never called for help. She just…let it happen.”
Burke looked at me for a long moment. “You ever tell anyone? A teacher, a friend?”
“Who would believe me? Nobody ever has.” My voice went quiet. “People like Dennis always win.”
He surprised me, then. Instead of getting up or changing the subject, he reached for my hand—gently, like I was made of blown glass. He threaded his fingers through mine and squeezed, not to hold me in place but to remind me I wasn’t alone.
When I let myself feel it, the comfort was dizzying. I wanted to pull away, to tell him to save it for someone who deserved it. But I didn’t.
The story kept coming.
“I got into a couple of schools for computer science. He intercepted the mail. Once, I tried to open a P.O. box so he couldn’t steal it, but he found the receipt and made me burn it in front of him. Every time I tried to plan an escape, he was three steps ahead.”
I blinked, surprised by the sting of tears. I hadn’t cried in front of anyone since I was a kid. “He ruined my laptop. That was the only thing I had to work on for school.”
Burke’s reaction was instant. He let go of my hand only to whip out his phone, thumb flying over the screen. “I know a guy. Well, I know an omega who’s better at fixing things than God. Carter owes me a favor. I’ll have him bring something over this afternoon. And don’t even think about arguing—I’m not letting you lose your future because of that piece of shit.”
He said it with such certainty that for a second, I believed him.
The phone buzzed. Burke’s eyes scanned the screen, then he grinned. “Done. He’s driving over right now. With a machine that’s probably worth more than your brother’s truck.” He glanced up, green eyes warm and alive. “You’re going to get out, Danny. I swear on my life.”
A warmth spread through my chest, heady and bright. For the first time in a decade, I didn’t feel like a ghost haunting my own life.
Burke’s hand came to rest on my knee, casual and steady. There was no heat to it, no demand—just the solid fact of another person, present and unafraid.
I swallowed, hard. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He looked at me, all humor gone. “Because you deserve it. Because you shouldn’t have to claw your way through hell just to feel safe. And because I like you.”
He said it so simply that it almost didn’t register.
I squeezed his hand back, shy and shaky. “I like you, too.”
He smiled, slow and soft. “Good.”
We sat like that for a long time, the pain in my ribs faded to a background hum. I let the comfort settle in, warm and dangerous and new.
I thought about Dennis, about every time he’d tried to rip the hope out of me, and realized he’d failed. I was still here. Still breathing.
And for the first time, that felt like winning.
Burke’s thumb traced over my knee, patient and calm. “You know, you don’t have to talk about any of this if you don’t want to.”
“I do,” I said. “I want you to know who you’re dealing with.”
He laughed, loud and happy. “I’m more scared of you than any SEAL I’ve ever worked with.”
I grinned, the split in my lip aching but worth it.
The tray sat forgotten on my lap. Outside the window, the sky was bright, the world wide open.
Maybe this time, it would stay that way.
The knock on the guest room door was so polite I almost didn’t recognize it as a summons. Burke looked up from his phone—he’d been reading something about hydroponic lettuce, because of course he had—and called, “Come in,” like we were expecting pizza, not the arrival of Montana’s own Avengers.
Rawley Steele entered first, six-three and built like a cattle guard. He wore an actual button-down, which made me wonder if this was his “company manners” shirt. He gave me a nod, then immediately scanned the room like he was mentally marking exits and choke points.
