Chapter 19
Levi
T he hot water pounds across my shoulders, steam filling the bath until the mirrors fogs over. It does nothing to wash away the tight feeling knotting inside me. I brace both hands on the tiled wall, letting the heat soak into me, willing it to chase the worry out of my bones.
They’re here. Under my roof. Safe for tonight. That truth steadies me more than I expected, but it doesn’t erase the image of Jake’s smug face at the school, or the way Hannah’s voice cracked with fear that something bad would happen with Jake.
Not on my watch.
I close my eyes, water coursing down my neck.
Hannah and Ivy belong here now … at least until this situation fully resolves.
I’ll make sure of it. Tomorrow, I’ll take Ivy to school myself, stand right there until she’s through the doors.
Hannah too. I’ll drive her to work and pick her up when the day is done.
No room for Jake to sneak back in, no cracks in the armor I’m building around them.
Still, part of me knows this isn’t just about protection anymore.
Tonight, tucking Ivy in beside Hannah, hearing her tiny voice say goodnight – it branded something deep in me.
And Hannah… the way she kissed me by the fire, tears still wet on her cheeks, leaning into me like she finally let herself believe someone could carry the weight with her.
I shouldn’t be thinking this way. It’s too fast, too much. But every instinct I have is pulling me closer, tying me to them both in a way I don’t want to untangle.
By the time I shut off the water and towel off, my decision is clear. Tomorrow won’t be left to chance. I’ll keep Hannah and Ivy close … closer than Jake could ever get. And if he tries again, he’ll learn the hard way that he’s not the only man in their lives anymore.
I pull on a pair of boxers, rake a hand through my damp hair, and step into the hallway.
The house is quiet except for the pop and crackle of the fire dying down.
I make a slow circuit of the cabin, checking the locks on the front door.
I make sure the kitchen window is latched, along with the back door.
Everything is secure, but still I don’t let my guard down.
Jake could be a damn sociopath … or psychopath.
I won’t even pretend that he couldn’t have already figured out who I am and where I live.
Information is easy to obtain on anyone nowadays.
Tomorrow, I’ll have a conversation with the Sheriff and find out everything I can on this crazy motherfucker. That’s what I need to do … turn the tables on him so he’s hunted instead of him hunting Hannah and Ivy.
Back in my room, I lie down, staring at the ceiling beams. Sleep won’t come.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Hannah’s tear-streaked face by the fire, the tremor in her voice, the way she kissed me like I was the only thing holding her together.
I toss once, twice, then finally swing my legs out of bed with a muttered curse.
I need to check on them. Just once more.
The floor creaks softly under my steps as I make my way down the dark hallway. Ivy’s door glows faintly from the crack of a night-light. But before I reach it, I see another shadow move. My adrenaline rushes through me until I realize it's Hannah.
She’s also approaching the doorway, peeking in at her daughter.
When she turns, surprise flashes across her face.
Hannah’s hair is loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a soft tank top and drawstring pants.
The thin fabric leaves little to the imagination.
My eyes catch on the curve of her breasts, the outline beneath, and I know she notices where my gaze lingers.
Her breath hitches, a faint color rising in her cheeks.
And then I notice the way her nipples peak against the thin cotton as if her body is reacting to mine.
“Can’t sleep either?” My voice is low, rougher than I mean it to be.
Her lips press together with a slight smile. “No. I keep checking on her, like if I take my eyes off her too long, something will happen.”
I nod, stepping closer, keeping my voice steady even though every nerve in me is tightening. “I’m cautious too.”
For a moment, the cabin feels suspended in silence. Just the two of us, the hush of the mountains outside, and the sound of Ivy’s breathing from the room behind the barely open door.
Hannah’s eyes lift to mine, wide and uncertain, but she doesn’t move away when I move closer. I brush a strand of hair back from her face, my fingers lingering against her cheek.
“Levi…” Her voice is soft, almost warning, but it trembles at the edges.
“I know,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t.”
But neither of us steps back. The air between us is strung tight, full of everything we’re afraid of, everything we’ve been carrying alone. I can feel her pulse racing under my fingertips, matching the hammer of my own. Then she exhales, shaky, and leans into me.
That’s all the permission I need. My mouth finds hers, hungry this time, nothing like the gentle kiss by the fire. This is raw and full of desperation to merge with her. She melts into me with a soft sound that goes straight to my groin.
My hands skim down her arms, pulling her closer until I feel the curve of her body against mine. I can feel her hard nipples through the fabric of her tank top against my naked torso.
“Levi…” she murmurs again, but now it’s different.
A plea. I kiss her deeper, swallowing the sound.
For a few moments, there’s nothing but heat and her soft curves against me.
Her fingers softly graze my shoulders, then clutch harder like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“This isn’t just fear talking,” I manage, my voice rough. “I want you. More than I should.”
Her eyes glisten in the dim light. “I know. That’s what scares me.”
I hold her there in the quiet hallway, the weight of her body warm against mine. I feel like maybe the fear can turn into something else … something stronger.
I scoop her up without thinking, arms under her knees and back like I’ve done this a hundred times. Her arms curl around my neck, breath hot against my jaw. She doesn’t protest. Instead, she buries her face against my shoulder like a tired child, trusting.
Her room is dim and warm from the little night-light. I lower her to the bed with the same care I’d give something fragile. She wiggles until she’s settled, drawing the comforter up to her chin. For a second, she looks small enough to protect with one hand.
I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering. “Don’t worry, Hannah,” I tell her, voice quiet and flat with promise. “I will crush that man if he tries anything.”
The threat tastes like iron, but there’s no bravado in it … only a real commitment to keep them safe.
She swallows, eyes bright in the lamplight. “Levi…”
“Yes,” I say, and the admission comes out before I can halt it. “I want you more than you know. I want you and Ivy in my life.”
She closes her eyes, and for a breath I think she might lean into me again. Instead she gives a tiny, shaky smile. “I know.”
My hand strokes her hair and I hover, not wanting to overstep boundaries. I do not want to take advantage of the chaos that put her here.
“I’m not going to use what’s happening as an excuse,” I say. “I’ll go back to my room. But if you need anything — anything at all — that’s where I’ll be.”
She reaches up and tangles her fingers in the sleeve of my shirt, a small gesture that says more than words.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Thank you.”
I stand in the hall outside both of their rooms a moment longer, listening to the small noises of the house. I used to them — the fire settling, the icemaker. Then I turn and tiptoe back down the hall.
In my room I don’t sleep right away. I lie, eyes open to the dark, thinking through plans and contingencies. The same thoughts loop in my head.
I will protect them. I will not let him hurt them in any way. Maybe he wouldn’t, but I’m not taking any chances. Hannah and Ivy deserve to be loved and cherished – hopefully, by me.