“Yeah? Maybe,” I lower my voice and step right into her space. “But from where I’m standing, you didn’t drive all this way just for those papers. You came looking for help.”
Her breath catches.
“Benji—”
“You’ll stay in my house,” I cut her off. “With me. Until I figure out what the hell is going on.”
“I don’t need?—”
“You do,” I snap. “The lawyer will need a few days to check what happened with the divorce. And while that is being settled, you can take a load off.”
We’ve got a lot to discuss, and God knows, I need to unpack everything that she revealed. I don’t know what to think—not yet—but maybe I don’t have the whole picture.
Just acknowledging that to myself is enough to tear at my insides.
“Why? Why would you do any of that for me?” she asks, and I see it—a precious sort of vulnerability that tugs at my heart.
I reply before I remember to use a filter. “Because I’m not letting some psycho think he can come onto my land and take what’s mine.”
The second the words leave my mouth, the world tilts.
Her eyes widen.
Mine.
Shit.
Bit makes a tiny noise behind us that sounds a whole lot like, oh my God.
I turn away before Esme can say a single word about it.
“Take the van, follow this road to the big house at the end of the lane,” I throw over my shoulder, already heading for the door. “We’ll deal with the rest later.”
I don’t wait to see if she follows.
I just walk.
Because if I look back—if I let myself see her standing there, breathing, real, on my porch after three years of being a ghost I couldn’t kill—I might do something a hell of a lot worse than argue.
I might believe her.
And I am nowhere near ready for that.
Not even close.
I get three steps into the house before Sawyer catches my arm.
I jerk free on instinct and glare at him.
“What?”
He doesn’t move.
Doesn’t flinch.
Just levels that calm, commander stare on me like he’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.
“You gonna get ahold of yourself?”
