Chapter Fifteen
Riley
I pace back and forth as I wait for Spike to return with my son.
“You know,” I tell Abby. “I’m not the only one with sad eyes.”
Okay, yeah, I’m pushing for a distraction. But it’s the truth. She looks like she’s been through something horrible.
“How do you think I picked up on yours so quickly?” she smiles sadly. “I see that same look every time I look in a mirror.”
“Want to talk about it?” I ask, finally sitting down beside her on the floor in front of the fireplace. There’s no fire, but it’s okay.
“No,” she says. “But it always helps when I do.”
Sighing, Abby turns and sits with her legs bent under her.
“A few years ago, I was on a trip with my friends,” she starts. “It was a graduation trip because we had all just finished college. I had finally gotten my bachelor’s degree in business administrationand already had a plan to start my own business.”
“What type of business?” I ask.
“I wanted to open a boutique store and sell my own clothing designs,” she smiles wistfully. “Bubby already bought me the building as a graduation gift, and I was going to move here and get an apartment. It was my ultimate dream. Still is.”
“What happened?” I ask softly.
Abby exhales slowly, staring into the empty fireplace like she’s seeing something far away. Something she doesn’t want to remember but can’t forget.
“We took a trip to Mexico,” she finally says. “It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. We weren’t being reckless or anything. One of my friends had family there that was letting us crash at their place. We thought it would be a great way to experience a new culture before we all settled into our careers. Plus, it’s just around the corner. I planned to come straight to Palm Springs right after.”
I nod, encouraging her to continue.
“For the first few days, everything was perfect,” she says, her voice hollow. “The markets, the food, the people - it was exactly what we’d hoped for. But on the fourth night, we were out late, celebrating, and we made the mistake of taking a route we weren’t familiar with.”
She pauses, swallowing hard, her hands clenching into fists in her lap.
“They came out of nowhere,” she whispers. “Armed men. They didn’t say a word, just grabbed us and shoved us into a van.”
My stomach turns. I don’t even know this girl that well, but I already feel sick imagining what she went through.
“They were insurgents,” she continues. “Or at least some kind of militant group. Anyway, their leader saw us as a payday. American women? We were prime money. They planned to sell a few of us. To the rest, they planned things far worse.”
I don’t ask what worse means. I already know.
“Bubby found me,” she says after a moment. “He and his men tore through their compound like the devil himself. I don’t even know how they found us, but one second, I was locked in a room, and the next, gunfire was everywhere, and he was carrying me out.”
A single tear slides down her cheek, but she wipes it away quickly.
“My friends didn’t make it,” she whispers. “They killed two of them first to make a point. The other three were either sold or killed elsewhere. I haven’t heard anything from or about them since.”
My breath catches.
“I was there for three months.”
“Oh, Abby,” I murmur, reaching for her hand without thinking. She doesn’t flinch when I take it, just grips mine tightly.
“I should’ve died too,” she says. “They had already decided we weren’t worth the trouble anymore. I was next. But Bubby got there before they could do it.”
I don’t know what to say. What the hell can you say to something like that?
“At first, I stayed in my brother’s house here inside the compound,” she continues. “But being so close to the Mexican border terrified me. I was constantly on edge, always waiting for something bad to happen. So, my brother took me to stay with our other brother in Kentucky, hoping I’d feel safer there.”
She pauses, shaking her head. “But I never did. If anything, I felt more vulnerable. I don’t know why, but the further I got from here, the worse it got. The thought of traveling back was just as terrifying, but so was being alone. In the end, with the help of some pretty heavy medication, I let my brother bring me back.”
“I’m really glad you’re here,” I tell her honestly.
She gives a small, shaky laugh. “Me too. So yeah, I guess I’ve got sad eyes.”
I squeeze her hand gently. “You’re stronger than you think.”
She shrugs. “Bubby thinks so too. I’m not sure I believe it, though.”
“Well,” I say, offering her a small smile, “maybe one day, you will. Maybe one day, both of our sad eyes will be a thing of the past.”
She gives me a watery smile in return. “Maybe.”
And for the first time since I met her, I see just the tiniest flicker of hope in her eyes.
After a beat, I take a deep breath. “Well, since we’re sharing, let me tell you my story.”
“You don’t have to,” she says softly. “I can tell it’s fresh. The pain is still raw.”
“It’s not any worse than yours,” I tell her. “Just different. And I want to tell you.”
So, I take a deep breath and lay it all out. The fear, the betrayal, the heartbreak.
When I finish, her face is pale, her eyes wide with horror. “And he just made you sign the papers while you were barely conscious? With a concussion?”
I nod, my jaw tightening.
Her expression hardens, her voice shaking with anger. “That’s…Gosh, Riley. That’s evil.”
I swallow hard, pushing back the lump in my throat. “It didn’t stop there. He took Asher and disappeared. Left me helpless, desperate, and with no way to get to my baby.”
She shakes her head, furious. “No wonder your eyes are so sad. You went through hell.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’m still in it. At least until Asher is back in my arms.”
Abby reaches out, gripping my hand tightly. “But you’re fighting. That’s what matters.”
I nod, squeezing her hand in return. “And I’m going to keep fighting. No matter what it takes.”
Abby watches me for a moment before whispering, “Then I will, too.”
It’s quiet between us, but for the first time, there’s an understanding. A connection forged in pain but strengthened by survival.
Before I can say anything else, the sound of an engine approaching the compound makes my heart stop. I shoot to my feet, my pulse pounding.
“They’re back,” I whisper, my legs already carrying me toward the door.
Abby follows closely behind, and as I throw open the door and step outside, my breath catches in my throat.
Spike is walking toward me, and in his arms, wrapped in a small blanket, is my son.
I fall to my knees in relief as every ounce of strength leaves my body.
“Fuck baby,” he says, rushing to my side. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
I don’t take my eyes off Asher as Spike helps me back on my feet and ushers me inside. I don’t reach for my son. I don’t dare touch him for fear that it’s all in my head.
Once in his office, Spike guides me to the couch, but my eyes remain locked on Asher. He’s right there. So close I can reach out and touch him, but my hands tremble at the thought.
Spike kneels in front of me, his voice softer now. “Riley, he’s okay. He’s real. Take him.”
My fingers curl into my palms as I shake my head. “What if he’s not?” My voice is barely a whisper. “What if I’m dreaming?”
A soft sound comes from the bundle in Spike’s arms. A tiny whimper followed by a content sigh.
Spike presses him into my arms, and as I cradle my son, I feel the weight of him…solid, warm, real.
I pull him close, my hands trembling as I touch his soft skin. He’s so small, so fragile, but so perfect.
“Shh,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “Mommy’s here. I’ve got you.”
Asher makes a small, muffled sound, his little fists gripping the fabric of my shirt, but he doesn’t open his eyes.
Spike hovers close, his hand on my shoulder, steadying me. “He’s real, Riley. He’s safe. He’s unharmed. He’s home.”
I nod, my chest aching with relief, but beneath that relief, a spark of something darker simmers. Anger.
“He’ll try to come after him again,” I say, my voice steady despite the surge of fear.
Spike shakes his head. “He put a tracker in the boy’s diaper. I double-checked to make sure he was clean before bringing him home.” His jaw tightens. “Bones drove us past a bus stop to ditch the diaper with the tracker. Hopefully, that’ll make him think you’ve left.”
“Hopefully,” I nod, but I can feel the weight of uncertainty hanging over me. “But it won’t work forever. I can’t stay hidden here. I have to leave these walls eventually. I need to find a job to take care of my son. I need daycare. I need somewhere to live…” My voice trails off as I freeze, suddenly aware of the way Spike is looking at me.
Spike’s eyes narrow, his voice lowering to a dangerous level. “It seems I haven’t been clear enough,” he says, his tone almost cold with a hint of anger. “You and Asher belong to me. That means I’ll supply you with everything your fucking heart desires. I’ll take care of both of you in all ways. You don’t need a fucking job. You don’t need a fucking place to live. You don’t need a fucking sitter. All you need to do is stay by my fucking side and let me handle everything.”
I blink a few times, taking in his words, and can’t help but smirk. “That was a lot of ‘fuckings’,” I say, trying to ease the tension in the air.
Spike doesn’t smile, his gaze still intense, but I can feel the shift in the room. I cuddle Asher closer, helping to calm my nerves.
“I was with Chuck for a long time,” I continue, my voice quieter now. “But even though we lived together, I never really felt like I was in a relationship. Not the kind of relationship where someone actually cares for you. Not one where I mattered. With him, it was always about what he wanted and how he could control me. And I... I got used to it. But not in a healthy way.”
I swallow hard, trying to put words to something I don’t fully understand myself.
“Then there’s you,” I say, my voice trembling ever so slightly. “You’re different. I feel it when you’re near me. Something about you... it just clicks, even though I’m not sure I understand how or why. It’s like a part of me wants to be close to you, wants to never let you out of my sight. But another part of me... I don’t know if I’m the woman you need. I don’t know how to be that for you.”
I bite my lip, feeling vulnerable, but it’s the truth. Spike might want me, but I’m scared that I won’t be able to give him what he deserves.
He leans in closer, his expression unreadable for a moment, before his hands gently cup my face. “Riley,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “You’re not some perfect fucking woman with all the answers. And I don’t expect you to be. All I care about is that you’re here. You and Asher are mine now. And I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is trust me. Let me be the one to protect you, to make sure you’re never in a situation like the one you were in with Chuck. You don’t have to be anyone you’re not. Just be with me.”
His thumb traces my cheekbone, and I feel my heart race in response to the tenderness of his touch.
“I get it,” he continues, his gaze softening. “You’ve been through hell, and it’s hard to let go of that fear. I know you’re not used to being treated like you matter. But you do. You matter to me. And I’ll prove it to you every fucking day if that’s what it takes.”
I look into his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all I find is raw determination. And something else. Something deeper that tugs at my chest. Something I haven’t allowed myself to feel in a long time.
“You don’t have to be perfect, Riley,” he adds, his voice low and steady. “You just need to be real with me. And right now, all I want… all I need… is you.”
“I need you, too,” I admit, my voice a little shaky. “But I also need us to go slow. I need to make sure that what I’m feeling for you isn’t just because you saved me. I need room to find my place in this world. I know you want to take care of us, but I need to know that I can do that myself, too.”
“I can do that, baby,” he replies gently. “Whatever you want to do in life, I’ll support you completely. But right now, all I really need is to kiss you. Is that okay? Just a small taste?”
Feeling shy and uncertain, I nod, my heart racing in anticipation.
“Thank fuck,” he mutters before leaning in, his lips brushing against mine. He doesn’t push for more but licks my lips softly, placing several long, tender kisses on them before pulling back.
I let out a small whine as his heat leaves me, and he chuckles at the sound.
“Time to feed our boy, baby,” he says with a grin. “He smells his mama’s milk, and he’s on the hunt.”
Looking down, I can’t help but laugh. Asher’s little mouth is wide open, and he’s bobbing his head around like he’s searching for a nipple to latch onto.
I look up at Spike, expecting him to leave, but instead, he smirks, crosses his arms, and leans against the wall, clearly settling in.
“Not going anywhere, baby,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “Watching you nurse our boy is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Might even make it a club law that every time you nurse, you ring a bell, and all business stops. That way, I can sit down and watch you, no distractions.”
“Caveman,” I laugh, trying to summon the courage to pull my boob out, my cheeks flushing under his heated gaze.
I can feel Spike’s eyes on me as I shyly pull my shirt up since the neckline won’t stretch down far enough. I’m fully aware of my already plump body being even more so because of my belly, but I try not to think about it. I take a deep breath, trying to push past the shyness and shift Asher’s little body closer before pulling my bra off one breast. His tiny hands instinctively reach for me, and I help guide him to latch.
His little mouth presses against me, and my heart swells with a mix of emotions. Love for my son, gratitude for Spike and his men, and something deeper. There’s just something about Spike that calls to me. It can’t be the fact that he saved me. He isn’t the only one who has. Shoot, he isn’t even the one who found a way to get Asher back. And yet…
Spike doesn’t look away as I nurse. His gaze is steady, intense, as he watches the most natural, intimate moment I’ve ever had. There’s no judgment, no rush. Just a quiet reverence in the way he observes. It feels... right.
I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this exposed, this vulnerable,” I admit.
Spike tilts his head, his voice soft but full of conviction. “You’re not exposed, baby. You’re strong. You’re doing the hardest thing in the world right now…taking care of him. And I admire the hell out of you for it.”
His words settle over me like a warm blanket, soothing away the remnants of my unease. I meet his eyes and find something in them. Something I can’t name yet, but it feels like safety. A kind of shelter that’s been missing in my life for so long.
Asher lets out a soft, contented sound, and I look down, smiling at my son. “At least one of us is happy,” I whisper.
Spike chuckles, low and rich, and the sound vibrates through the room. “You have no idea how happy you make me, Riley. And I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”
I shift slightly, cradling Asher a little more securely. “I don’t know how I’m going to do all this,” I say quietly. “Being a mom, a woman, and... everything else. It feels like there’s too much.”
“You don’t have to do it all on your own,” Spike says, his voice low and reassuring. “You’ve got me. And I’m not going anywhere.”
His words wrap around me like a promise.
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room the quiet rhythm of Asher feeding. I can feel the weight of what we’ve just shared, the unspoken bond growing between us. There’s a future here. One that feels uncertain but also full of possibility.
All I have to do is reach out and grab it.
“Thank you,” I say. “For helping me. For getting my son back. For just being you. For wanting me for me.”
“You never have to thank me for wanting you, baby,” he says softly. “It’s my greatest pleasure.”