She does, and I press a soft kiss to her lips. “I want this more than anything, baby girl. It’ll happen soon. I swear.”
Her gorgeous brown eyes search mine for a second, then she smiles and nods. “I’ll shower,” she says, pushing herself off my lap.
“Take your time.”
***
The shower kicks on down the hall, water hissing through the old pipes. I stay on the couch a moment longer, forearms braced on my knees, head down, letting the quiet settle around me. My pulse finally slows, but my body doesn’t follow. Every sense is still keyed to her. Every instinct on edge.
I can’t stop thinking about her…the way she reacts to me, the trust she gives me, the way she’s already become a part of my life I can’t imagine losing.
For the first time in years, control doesn’t feel like a burden. It feels necessary—a tether to something worth protecting. And I know, without a doubt, that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
I push to my feet and pace the length of the living room, hands flexing at my sides. The tension won’t burn off. I keep seeing those men. Hearing their voices. Picturing Millie on that corner, small and frightened, her backpack clutched to her chest like it could stop a blade.
I stop at the window and drag a hand over my face.
This is exactly what I was afraid of. The Serpents don’t forget. As long as she’s mine, she’s a way to reach me.
I catch myself turning the bracelet on my wrist—the dark leather she pressed into my hand like it was nothing, like it wasn’t the first thing anyone’s made for me in years. I drop my hand and pull my phone from my pocket before I can change my mind.
My thumb hovers over a name.
I haven’t called Samantha in a long time. Not because we ended badly. Just…life. Distance. The fact that talking to her reminds me of a version of myself I don’t want to revisit. But if there’s anyone I trust with something like this, it’s her.
I hitcall.
It rings twice.
“Wilder?” Surprise sharpens her voice. “Are you okay?”
I brace my free hand against the window frame and huff out a breath. “Yeah.”
“You never call unless something’s wrong.”
Some things never change. I let the silence agree for me.
“I need a favor.”
A pause. I can practically hear her sit up straighter. “That sounds serious. What kind of favor?”
I start moving again, a slow circuit of the room. “Do you still have space at the shelter?”
“At Haven House? Yes. Why?” The warmth thins from her tone. “Who is this for?”
I stop behind the couch and grip the back of it. “A girl.”
The pause stretches longer this time.
“A girl,” she repeats slowly. “You’re calling me about a girl.”
“It’s not like that.” My jaw tightens.
“Wilder.” Her voice turns dry. “You haven’t called me in almost a year, and now you want a place in a women’s shelter for a girl. It is absolutely like that.”
I close my eyes and squeeze the back of the couch until the leather creaks. “Can you help or not?”
“I can. But you’re going to tell me what’s going on first.”
