Chapter Nine #2
We lay there, tangled together, as the last light faded from the sky. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t wonder what would happen next. I just knew, with bone-deep certainty, that whatever it was, we’d face it together.
Danny’s breathing had slowed to something deep and even, his head a perfect weight on my chest. I traced lazy patterns on his back, following the ridge of his spine from his neck to the small of his back and back again.
The room was dark except for the slice of moonlight through the half-drawn blinds, painting his skin silver-blue. I could have stayed like that forever, just the two of us in our own private universe.
His finger traced the outline of the tattoo on my shoulder—a compass rose I’d gotten after my second tour, when I was still figuring out which way was home.
“What happens when they let him out?” he asked, voice so quiet I almost missed it.
The question landed like a stone in still water. I’d known it was coming—had been preparing for it, even—but hearing it out loud made my stomach twist. I kept my hand moving on his back, steady and sure.
“They won’t,” I said, which was half a lie. Dennis had connections in town, people who’d known him since he was a kid throwing rocks at the elementary school windows. But I’d be damned if I let that matter.
Danny lifted his head, eyes serious in the half-dark. “But if they do?”
I took a breath, decided on honesty. “Then we deal with it. Together.”
He settled back against me, but I could feel the tension in his shoulders. “He’ll come looking for me,” he said. “He always does.”
I stopped the patterns on his back, my hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades. “I’ve been working with Carter,” I said. “On a security system. For you.”
He went still. “What?”
“Carter’s good with tech. Better than me, even.
” I couldn’t keep the pride out of my voice.
“We’ve been putting together something that’ll alert us if anyone even drives up the main road.
Motion sensors, cameras, the works. And I talked to Sheriff Calloway about a restraining order.
Once it’s filed, Dennis won’t be able to come within five hundred yards of you without violating his bail. ”
Danny was quiet for so long I thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. Then I felt it—the sudden, hot dampness against my chest. He was crying, silently, his shoulders shaking with the effort of holding it in.
“Hey,” I said, gently tilting his face up. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
He shook his head, a tear tracking down to the corner of his mouth. “Nobody’s ever—“ His voice broke. “Why are you doing this? Why me?”
The question hit me like a physical blow. I gathered him against me, one hand cradling the back of his head. “Because you deserve to be safe,” I said, voice rough. “Because I’d tear this whole town apart before I let him touch you again.”
He clung to me, fingers digging into my shoulders like he was afraid I might vanish. I held him tighter, a low growl building in my chest at the thought of Dennis anywhere near him. My alpha instincts, usually kept on a tight leash, surged to the surface—protect, defend, claim.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered against his hair. “I promise.”
He nodded, face still buried in my neck. I felt him take a deep breath, then another, his body gradually relaxing against mine. We stayed like that until his breathing evened out, until the last of the tension drained from his muscles.
Eventually, he lifted his head, eyes red but dry. “Sorry,” he said, trying for a smile. “I didn’t mean to—“
“Don’t,” I cut him off gently. “Don’t apologize for needing me. That’s what I’m here for.”
He kissed me then, soft and a little desperate. I kissed him back, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the press of my lips against his. When we broke apart, his eyes were clear, focused on mine with an intensity that made my chest ache.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
I brushed a thumb across his cheekbone. “Anytime.”
We fell asleep like that, tangled together, my arms around him like I could keep the world at bay through sheer stubbornness.
* * * *
I woke to the sound of retching.
For a second, I thought I was dreaming—some nightmare flashback to basic training or that bar in Kandahar—but then Danny’s weight disappeared from the bed, and the bathroom door slammed shut. I was on my feet before my brain caught up, heart hammering against my ribs.
The bathroom light was on, harsh and sudden after the darkness. Danny was on his knees in front of the toilet, one hand braced on the seat, the other clutching his stomach. He looked up when I appeared in the doorway, face pale and sweaty.
“Go back to bed,” he said, voice thin. “I’m fine.”
I crossed to him in two strides, kneeling beside him. “Like hell you are.” I reached for him, then stopped, not sure if touch would make it worse. “What happened? Was it something you ate?”
He shook his head, then gagged again, nothing coming up but a thin strand of bile. I flushed the toilet and grabbed a washcloth from the rack, running it under cold water before pressing it to the back of his neck.
He sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Must’ve been the pizza. Or maybe I’m just...I don’t know. Stressed?”
I helped him to his feet, steadying him when he swayed. In the fluorescent light, he looked ghostly—skin almost translucent, dark circles under his eyes. I guided him to the sink, handed him a cup of water to rinse his mouth.
“You’re burning up,” I said, pressing my palm to his forehead.
He shook his head. “I’m fine. Really. Just need to sleep it off.”
I wasn’t convinced, but he was already heading back to bed, moving carefully like he was afraid his body might betray him again. I followed, switching off the light behind us.
The bedroom was bathed in moonlight now, silver pouring through the window to pool on the floor.
It caught the angles of Danny‘s face as he settled back against the pillows—the sharp line of his jaw, the shadow under his cheekbone.
He looked exhausted, but also weirdly peaceful, like the sickness had washed something away.
I climbed in beside him, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “You sure you’re okay?”
He nodded, eyes already drifting shut. “Just tired. And embarrassed.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Happens to the best of us.”
He made a noise that might have been agreement, then turned into my side, head finding the hollow of my shoulder like it had been made to fit there. I wrapped an arm around him, careful not to squeeze too tight.
“Get some sleep,” I murmured. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
He was already half-gone, body heavy against mine. “Love you,” he mumbled, the words slurring together.
My heart stuttered. He’d never said it before—not out loud, not like that. I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, too afraid to say it back in case he didn’t remember in the morning.
“Sleep,” I said instead. “I’ve got you.”
He nodded, a sleepy sound of contentment escaping him. I lay awake long after his breathing evened out, counting each rise and fall of his chest, making silent promises to the darkness.
Whatever came next, we’d face it together. I’d make sure of it.
* * * *
“I don’t care what it takes,” I said into the phone, voice low and tight. “That bastard isn’t getting anywhere near him again.”
Rawley’s voice rumbled through the receiver, all business and no bullshit. I paced the length of the kitchen, one hand braced against the countertop like it was the only thing keeping me upright. The bail hearing was set for tomorrow, and the knot in my stomach had been growing since breakfast.
“Calloway’s on our side,” Rawley was saying. “Says the DA’s pushing for no bail, but Jenkins has that cousin on the bench, so...”
“So we need a backup plan,” I finished. “What about that PI you used in Missoula? The one who found Jojo’s birth certificate?”
“Already called her. She’s digging into Dennis’s finances, seeing if we can find anything that’ll keep him locked up longer.”
I nodded, even though Rawley couldn’t see it. “Good. And the restraining order?”
“Filed and served. He so much as texts Danny, he’s back in jail.”
The tension in my shoulders eased a fraction. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” Rawley said, voice softening. “Just keep that kid safe, okay? Jojo’s already planning a welcome-home party for when this is over.”
I laughed, the sound rusty. “Copy that.”
We said our goodbyes, and I set the phone down with more force than necessary.
My reflection in the microwave door looked like shit—hair standing on end, dark circles under my eyes, jaw set in a permanent clench.
I’d been running on coffee and rage for days, ever since we’d gotten word about the hearing.
I turned, ready to head back to the security system I’d been tweaking, and froze.
Danny stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame.
He was wearing my old college hoodie, the sleeves rolled to accommodate his narrower frame, and a pair of jeans that hung loose on his hips.
His hair was damp from the shower, curling at the temples, and he had that look—the one that made my chest tight and my brain go quiet.
“How much of that did you hear?” I asked, suddenly aware of how I must look—all alpha posturing and territorial bullshit.
He pushed off the doorframe and came toward me, steps deliberate. “Enough,” he said. “Not all of it.”
I braced myself for anger, for the inevitable “I can take care of myself” speech. But instead, Danny’s face did something complicated—part worry, part wonder, part something I couldn’t name.
“You’ve been working with Rawley,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded. “Since the day after you got here. We’ve got a plan, Danny. A good one. Dennis isn’t getting anywhere near you, not if I have anything to say about it.”
He was close enough now that I could smell the mint of his toothpaste, the clean scent of soap on his skin. His eyes, fixed on mine, were clear and steady. “I believe you,” he said simply.
Something in my chest loosened. I reached for him, one hand coming to rest on his waist. “You okay?”
He smiled, small but genuine. “Better now.”
I leaned down, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back, one hand coming up to cup my jaw. For a second, the rest of the world—Dennis, the hearing, the knot in my stomach—all of it fell away, leaving just the two of us in our own private universe.
Then Danny went stiff against me. He broke the kiss, eyes widening, face paling visibly. “I need—“ he started, then bolted for the bathroom, one hand clamped over his mouth.
I was right behind him, heart hammering. “Danny? What’s wrong?”
The bathroom door slammed in my face. I heard the lock click, then the sound of retching, muffled but unmistakable. I knocked, gentle but insistent. “Danny? You okay in there?”
“I’m fine,” came the weak reply. “Just give me a minute.”
I backed up, giving him space, but didn’t go far. This was the third time this week—the sudden pallor, the dash to the bathroom, the locked door and miserable sounds from the other side. Each time, he’d emerged shaky but insistent that it was nothing, just stress or something he ate.
But three times in a week wasn’t nothing.
The toilet flushed. Water ran in the sink. Then silence, long enough that I knocked again. “Danny? You decent?”
“Yeah,” he said, voice thin. “Come in.”
I opened the door slowly. Danny was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, head bowed, hair falling forward to hide his face. He looked up when I entered, and the expression there stopped me cold—not sickness, not even embarrassment, but a kind of dawning horror.
“You’re white as a sheet,” I said, crossing to kneel in front of him. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
He shook his head, then seemed to think better of it. “I’m okay. Just dizzy.”
I wasn’t buying it. “This is the third time this week,” I said gently. “Maybe we should call Doc Harmon, get you checked out.”
“No!” The word came out sharper than I think he meant it. He took a breath, tried again. “I mean, it’s not necessary. I’m fine, really.”
I studied his face—the shadows under his eyes, the tightness around his mouth. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “At least let me get you some water,” I said.
He nodded, grateful for the distraction. I filled a glass from the tap and handed it to him. His hands were shaking so badly water slopped over the rim.
“Sorry,” he muttered, setting the glass on the counter. “I’m such a mess.”
“You’re not a mess,” I said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
He looked up at that, eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “Burke,” he said, voice breaking. “I think—“ He stopped, swallowed hard. “When was the last time I had my heat?”
The question landed like a physical blow. I blinked, brain scrambling to do the math. Danny’s heats had been irregular since he’d arrived—stress, the doctor said, plus the trauma of the beating. His last one had been...
“A week ago,” I said slowly.
He nodded, face paling further. “And we’ve been...” He trailed off, not needing to finish.
My stomach dropped. “You think you’re—“
“I don’t know,” he cut in. “Maybe? I’ve been feeling off for days, and the sickness, and...” His hands came to rest on his flat stomach, trembling. “I should have realized sooner, but with everything else...”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The world narrowed to Danny’s face, the fear and wonder warring there, and the impossible, terrifying possibility growing between us.
“Burke,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m pregnant?”
The question hung in the air between us, huge and irreversible. I reached for him, hands finding his, and held on tight.
“Then we figure it out,” I said, the words coming from somewhere deeper than thought. “Together.”
He nodded, a single tear tracking down his cheek. I brushed it away with my thumb, then leaned forward to press my forehead to his.
“Whatever happens,” I said, “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me? Not now, not ever.”
He closed his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him. “I hear you,” he whispered.
I pulled him into my arms, holding him close.
His heart hammered against my chest, rapid and sure.
Outside, the world kept turning—Dennis’s hearing tomorrow, the security system half-installed, a hundred problems waiting for solutions.
But in this moment, with Danny solid in my arms and the future stretching before us, I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that we’d face it all together.
Whatever came next, we’d be ready.