Chapter 20 COLE
COLE
Dinner is burning.
I don’t realize it until the smoke curls up from the skillet, but even that doesn’t snap me out of the spiral in my head. I’ve been pacing this small kitchen like a restless animal, checking the clock, window, and door.
Aria should’ve been home by now. She was supposed to be back half an hour ago, but there’s still no sign of her. She’s safe with Ella, I know that. But knowing and feeling are two very different things when I’m a single father with a daughter whose entire world has been shaken enough times already.
I’m not usually like this. I trust Ella with my life, and that extends to my daughter, but something feels wrong, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake it off.
I’m seconds from going out to look for her when the cabin door bangs open so hard it rattles the frame.
“Daddy—Daddy—Daddy!”
Aria barrels inside, breathless, cheeks red, eyes glassy—and not the excited kind of glassy. It’s the scared kind, and my entire world stops.
“Aria? Baby, what happened?” I ask, my voice low and steady, even though my pulse is kicking like a wild horse.
She runs into me, arms flinging around my waist, small body trembling. I crouch down so I’m eye-level, hands on her shoulders. “Aria. Sweetheart. Talk to me.”
Physically, she looks okay—she’s not hurt, limping, or bleeding—but shaking, and somehow that’s worse.
She swallows hard, tears filling her eyes. “Mom. She—she—“
“Mom? Calista?”
She nods vigorously, and everything inside me goes still. What has that wicked woman done now?
“What did she do?” I ask, trying not to overthink it.
“She—she was yelling at Miss Ella, saying awful things to her. She was mad that Miss Ella was with us. And then she—“ Her voice cracks. “She slapped her.”
The words hit me like a punch to the ribs. My mind goes completely blank, like someone has unplugged me. Shock hits first, cold and paralyzing, and for a full five seconds, I don’t even breathe.
Then guilt slams into me. I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected them both, should’ve anticipated Calista pulling another stunt—she’s predictable in the worst, most hateful ways. I should’ve—
“Daddy?” Aria’s voice shakes. “Miss Ella was bleeding. Well, not bleeding but… her cheek was red. Really red.”
Fuck.
My jaw locks. “And you? Are you hurt? Did she touch you? What about Daisy?”
“No. She didn’t touch us. Miss Ella put us behind her.”
Of course she did. Leave it to Ella, a girl with a heart too big, to put herself between my daughter and a woman who lost the right to be called a mother years ago.
My shock cracks, fear rushing in, throat tightening until it hurts. Calista has never been stable, but hitting Ella? In public? In front of the girls? That’s a new level of unhinged. And then, the anger hits—hot and sharp, tearing through my restraint.
“Where’s Ella now?” I ask Aria.
“In the main house with her brothers. They are all mad. Really mad.”
I straighten. “Let’s go.”
“To Miss Ella?”
“Yes.”
I need to make sure she’s okay, see the damage with my own eyes, and confront every single thing I didn’t protect her from.
She nods and starts moving, but halfway to the door, she looks back at me. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You’re not mad at me, right?”
My chest breaks open. I cross the space, scoop her into my arms, and hold her tight. “Never. Not once. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But Mom—“
“None of this is on you. Do you hear me?” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m proud of you. Always.”
Her small fingers curl around the collar of my shirt. “I was scared.”
“I know, baby. I know,” I whisper. “I’m here now.”
For her, and for Ella.
I set her down gently. “Let’s go.”
The main house is lit up like a Christmas tree—a sign of chaos if I’ve ever seen one. Ella sits on the couch, an ice pack pressed to her cheek. Her eyes snap up the second she senses me. The right side of her face is flushed, a bruise already forming.
My vision blurs—not from tears, but from rage.
Zane is pacing like a guard dog ready to break free. Jace is right behind him, scowling at the carpet like he wants to punch it. Beck sits on the edge of the couch, head lowered, breathing hard—the calm-before-the-storm kind of posture.
All three look up the moment I step in, fire igniting behind their eyes. Aria wasn’t kidding; they are mad, and I don’t blame them.
Zane’s jaw flexes like steel. “I swear to God, Dawson, I’m gonna—“
“No,” Beck snaps. “I’m gonna—“
“Toby and Calista both. I’ll take their heads off.” Jace cracks his knuckles. “No one touches our sister.”
My pulse hammers—not at them but at myself, because they’re right. She is their sister, the woman I’m falling for, and I wasn’t there.
“Cole…” Ella whispers.
I don’t move or speak. If I do, I’ll explode. Hell, the only thing keeping my hands steady is the fact that Aria is squeezing my fingers tighter.
Ella stands slowly, wincing. “I’m okay.”
“No. You’re not.” My voice comes out hoarse. “She hit you.”
“And that she,” Beck growls, getting up, “is about to lose teeth.”
“Beck.” Ella shoots him a glare that has more steel than softness. “Sit back down.”
Shockingly, he does. Zane and Jace move closer like a wall of testosterone, ready to kill someone. Ella steps toward me, ice pack still held to her cheek.
I swallow hard. “Shiloh…”
She stops in front of me, eyes soft, voice gentle. “Cole. I’m fine.” Then she turns to Aria. “Sweetheart, why don’t you join Daisy and Ava in the kitchen?”
Aria looks up at me for permission, and I give it to her with a slight approving nod. She lets go of my hand and disappears into the kitchen. As soon as she’s gone, I turn to Ella. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with her.”
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
That makes something inside me snap. “I’m not talking about your strength,” I say tightly. “I’m talking about my failure.”
Her brows pull together. “Cole—“
“I wasn’t there.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should’ve—“
“No. Cole, look at me.”
I do, and the guilt hits me harder. Her cheek is swollen, red, skin tender. And she still cares more about me than she does about herself.
“I should’ve protected you,” I choke out. “I should’ve protected both of you.”
“Cole, this wasn’t on you. Stop blaming yourself.”
My jaw tenses. “She’s out of control. I need to—“
Ella’s expression shifts as soon as the words leave my mouth. Not angry, but determined. Steady in that way she gets when she’s about to fix what no one else can.
She reaches out, grabs my hand, and squeezes once—firm, grounding, a command disguised as comfort. “Come with me.”
Before I can argue, she turns and pulls me toward the doorway. Her fingers wrapped around mine feel like the first real breath I’ve taken since Aria ran into my arms. She’s strong, small, furious, and soft all at once. I follow her because right now my emotions are loud enough to drown out sense.
At the threshold, she pauses and spins around to face her brothers.
“Do not leave this house,” she warns, voice sharp as a blade. “None of you. I mean it.”
Zane lifts a brow. “Ella—“
“No.” She points at him first, then at Jace, then at Beck, one by one, like she’s laying down the law. “I handled it. I don’t need any of you ending up in jail tonight.”
Jace huffs. “We wouldn’t get caught.”
“Sit down!”
All three freeze. Then, grudgingly, they sit.
Zane mutters something under his breath. Beck cracks his knuckles like he’s itching to start a small war. Jace crosses his arms and sulks like a massive, bearded toddler. It would almost be funny if the bruise on Ella’s cheek wasn’t staring me in the face like an accusation.
Satisfied, she tugs my hand again. “Come on.”
I follow her outside, letting the door shut behind us.
The moment we’re alone on the porch, the cool night air hits me, carrying the faint smell of hay and cedar.
Out here, my anger feels too big for my body—hot and unsettled—and I’m trying to keep it all locked down because if I don’t, the world will see exactly how far I’m willing to go for her.
Ella stops a few feet from the door, finally letting go of my hand, turning to face me. Her cheek is still red, the bruise ready to bloom darker later, and something inside me claws upward—a feral urge to hunt down the woman who dared to lay a hand on her.
She sees it. She always does.
“Cole,” she coos softly. “Look at me.”
I already am.
“You can’t go after her.”
My jaw works. “Ella, she hit you.”
“And I hit her back.” She lifts her chin slightly. “I handled it.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“I know that,” she whispers. “I know. But listen to me, please. If you go after her and start something, Aria will feel it. She’ll see it on your face when you come back. She’s already scared, and doesn’t need any more chaos.”
The words hit straight through me, cutting through the noise.
“She needs calm,” Ella says. “She needs you steady. And I need you steady too.”
I exhale shakily, running a hand through my hair because she’s right, and it kills me. Aria’s small body, trembling in my arms, flashes behind my eyes again. “I just… I can’t stand that she touched you. That she scared you.”
Ella steps closer, voice low, firm. “She didn’t scare me. She pissed me off, but she didn’t scare me.”
The corner of my mouth twitches despite everything. “That’s not the point.”
“No,” she agrees. “It’s not. The point is we’re here. Safe. Together. I need you to let it go, Cole. For Aria. For me. Please.”
Her hand comes up, fingers brushing the front of my shirt, lingering for just a breath. It’s soft enough to break me.
“She’s okay,” Ella whispers. “And I’m okay.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “You’re bruised. You shouldn’t be hurt because of my past.”
“That was not your past,” she counters. “That was her. Her choices. Her anger. Not yours.”
The night presses in around us, quiet and wide.
I look at her for a long moment, trying to steady my heartbeat, trying to calm the instinct clawing at my chest. Ella is close enough that her scent—warm, subtle, familiar—comes up with every breath I take.
My hands ache to touch her, to do something other than hold myself back.
She watches me with those charcoal-grey eyes that see too much.
“Cole, let it go,” she pleads.
My voice drops to a near-growl. “Okay, but only because it’s you asking. Otherwise—“
She nods. “I know. Thank you.”
I step closer without meaning to. She tilts her head up, the porch light paints her cheek in gold—bruise and all—and the sight does something devastating to me.
I cup the uninjured side of her face with one hand. She leans into it, closing her eyes for a second like she’s letting herself rest.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For protecting my daughter. For stepping in. For being… you.”
Her breath catches, and when she looks up at me again, the heat in her eyes damn near buckles my knees.
“Cole…” she murmurs.
I don’t even know who moves first.
One moment we’re breathing the same air; the next, her mouth is on mine—soft at first, then deeper, hotter, like she’s been holding herself back just as fiercely as I have. I kiss her back, hard enough to make her gasp, sliding one hand behind her neck and pulling her fully into me.
She presses into my chest like she belongs there, fingers curling around the front of my shirt. The kiss turns hungry—not the desperate kind but the claiming kind—slow and intense, a promise pressed between our lips.
I break away only when her breath turns shaky, resting my forehead against hers. Her chest rises and falls against mine, warm and real. I slide my hands down her arms, grounding myself in the feel of her.
“You’re unbelievable,” I say quietly. “I don’t deserve the way you care.”
“Yes, you do,” she whispers back.
We stay there until the world feels steady again.
“Let’s go back before your brothers come to hunt me down,” I tease, taking her hand and leading her back into the house.
Ella might have talked me down tonight, but only God knows what I’ll do if Calista and I cross paths in the future. But for tonight, I choose peace.