Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
C al
The dim light from the kitchen lantern casts a soft glow across the room, making the shadows dance on the walls. Layla sits on the edge of the worn leather couch, her shoulders trembling as she hugs herself tightly. I crouch in front of her, my hands holding a damp cloth as I gently clean the bruise blooming along her cheekbone from one of the assholes that tried to take her from me. My knuckles are still raw from earlier, the sting a sharp reminder of the fight, but none of it matters. She’s here, safe, and that’s the only thing I care about.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, my voice rougher than I intend. “Sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”
Her eyes lift to mine, wide and glassy with unshed tears. “Cal, you saved me.”
I shake my head, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “I should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve kept a better eye on you.”
“You were working–and you’re not a superhero,” she says softly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Even though you looked like one out there.”
I let out a rough laugh, shaking my head again as I dab at the corner of her mouth, where a small cut mars her otherwise perfect skin. “Yeah, well, you’ve got a way of making a man feel like he’s invincible. That’s dangerous, Layla.”
She bites her bottom lip, her eyes flicking to mine before darting away. “I didn’t mean to bring trouble here. I never wanted this for you or Carson.”
“You didn’t bring trouble,” I say firmly, tossing the cloth aside and gripping her hands. They’re small and cold in mine, trembling slightly. “Those bastards followed you, but that’s on them, not you. You don’t have to carry that guilt.”
Her shoulders sag, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I don’t know how to stop.”
I lift a hand to her face, brushing the tear away with my thumb. “You let me help. You let me carry some of it for you.”
She closes her eyes, leaning into my touch like she’s finally letting herself believe me. “I’ve never felt this safe before. Not once in my life.”
Her confession hits me square in the chest, knocking the air out of me. I’ve always known she came from a world so far removed from mine, a world of cold business deals and calculated moves where people are treated like objects and not souls to be honored. But hearing her say it like that—like she’s been living her entire life in a cage—makes me want to break everyone that’s ever hurt her.
“You’re safe now,” I tell her, my voice low and steady. “Here, with me and Carson, you’re safe. No one’s ever going to take that away.”
She opens her eyes, and the vulnerability in them is like a punch to the gut. “You’re so overprotective, Cal,” she whispers, her lips curving slightly. “But it’s not suffocating. It’s… grounding.”
“Overprotective,” I repeat with a wry smile. “Yeah, I guess I am. But can you blame me? I’ve never had a piece of my heart walking around outside of my body before. And now I’ve got two—Carson and you.”
Her lips part in surprise, and I see the words hit her, sinking deep. I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers, needing her to feel how serious I am.
“You’re not just a mail-order bride,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “You’re not some temporary fix to get through the loneliness. You’re my forever, Layla. Mine.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, we’re frozen, the air between us heavy and crackling with something neither of us can ignore. Then she moves, her hands slipping from mine to cup my face, her touch so soft it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Say it again,” she whispers.
I grin, my lips brushing hers as I repeat the words that have been clawing their way out of my chest for weeks. “You’re my forever.”
And then she kisses me, soft and hesitant at first, like she’s afraid she’ll break if she pushes too hard. But I’m not afraid. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her flush against me as I deepen the kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion I’ve been holding back into her.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, her body melting into mine like she’s finally found where she belongs. I lower her onto the couch, my hands framing her face as I pull back just enough to look into her eyes.
“I love you,” I say, the words coming out gruff and unpolished, but real. “I love you so damn much.”
Tears spill down her cheeks, but she’s smiling, her hands gripping my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear. “I love you too, Cal. More than I’ve ever loved anything.”
Her words are my undoing. I kiss her again, slow and deep, savoring every moment, every sigh and shiver. This is everything I never thought I’d have, and I’m not letting it go. Not now, not ever.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, I rest my forehead against hers, my hands stroking her hair. “You’re staying,” I tell her, my voice rough with determination. “This is your home now.”
She nods, her smile growing. “I know.”
I press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, unable to stop myself. “Good. Because I don’t think I could let you go even if you wanted me to.”
“I don’t want you to,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. “I want to be here, with you and Carson. I want to build a life here, with our family.”
Our family. The words settle over me like a balm, soothing the parts of me I didn’t even know were raw. I pull her closer, holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world—because she is.
And for the first time in years, I feel whole.