Page 57 of York

I had to draw a line in the sand, then reinforce that damn boundary. For my sake. And for Denny’s as well.

When I pulled against his hold, for just a second, he didn’t let me go. Once he did, I moved away, yanking on my tank top, then dropping down to pull my panties up my legs. Followed by my shorts.

“You don’t need to worry, by the way.”

York’s brows furrowed. “Worry about what?” he asked, pulling his pants up and reaching for his shirt.

“About another whoopsie. I got an IUD right after Denny was born.”

He watched me for a second, something unreadable on his face. Then he shook his head slightly. “I wasn’t worried about that.”

Something tightened in my chest and I forced myself to ignore it as I gathered the blankets that York wasn’t sitting on, unzipped the tent, climbed out, walked down the hall toward the washing machine, and shoved everything inside.

I lingered over the task as I heard York moving around, likely cleaning up the rest of the mess, then breaking down the tent. The whoosh of the waterproof fabric and the clank of the metal poles were sounds I knew well.

His phone rang, and I hated how my mind immediately wondered which half-dressed club girl might be calling him to come hang out.

“Yo,” he answered as he moved around the living room. “Yeah. Good. Nothing? Alright. Good. Yeah. Thanks, Caymen. And thank Noa and your brother for me, too.”

I turned at those names, knowing that the Cider brothers were making their way up to check out the mess I’d made in Georgia.

“Everything okay?” There was a tight, stilted cadence to my words as my belly sloshed around.

“Yeah. No bodies.”

“Really?”

“Sounds like they didn’t clean up the mess, though. There’s blood all over. Caymen recovered the razor knife and the toilet tank lid. Dixon and Noa are cleaning up the scene. From what they can gather, the place is abandoned. Seems like it’s about to go to auction. The whole thing was just a trap. So, once they have it cleaned up, there’s nothing there that could ever point back to you.”

Thank God.

That had been an invisible weight I’d been carrying for ages. I mean, no, I didn’t have my fingerprints on any record anywhere. But it was still something that could trace back to me, could take me away from my daughter, for the simple crime of defending myself and protecting her.

I exhaled hard.

“Been weighing on you more than you said,” York observed.

“Yeah.”

“It’s done.”

“Except, it’s not, is it?” I asked, leaning back against the washing machine. “If I’d killed them, that would be it. It would be over. But they’re alive. Out there. Probably still looking for me. And madder than ever.”

“This is shit you’ve been carrying by yourself for too long. But you don’t need to anymore. I’m gonna pick it up and handle it.”

I did believe he meant that.

But I’d been doing everything on my own for so long. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to fully trust someone to take over for me.

“I appreciate that.”

“But you can’t let it go,” he said, nodding. “I get that. You’ve been through hell. You can’t let your guard down. But I’m gonna do whatever it takes to keep you two safe.”

He moved toward me as he said it, and my heart flip-flopped as he got close.

He wasn’t walking toward me, though.

He was checking on his daughter.