Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The sun barely peeks over the treetops when I give up on sleep and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
Foster is curled around a body pillow behind me, snoring softly.
His tousled black hair falls across his forehead.
My fingers gently brush his skin, feeling the tingles of our bond as I push it away from his face.
Lying here with him in my arms is tempting.
I doubt he will wake before late morning, so I could have hours of cuddles with my Omega.
But the sound of the bed creaking in the other room stops me.
I’m a light sleeper. A skill that has helped me throughout my career as an undercover agent with the DAU. You never know when a mission will go sideways. There have been plenty of situations where I have had to flee in the middle of the night after being discovered.
A downside of my inability to sleep heavily was hearing every time Hannah tossed and turned throughout the night. The thin walls of the cabin do little to dampen the noise. She’s been shifting every hour since retiring to her bedroom after dinner last night.
Sighing, I scrub a hand through my hair and climb out of bed.
We should have grabbed extra pillows so she could use them to get comfortable.
Lack of sleep cannot be good for her when she is already experiencing so much stress from fleeing New Hampshire.
There isn’t much I can do about it now. Not until our supplies dwindle enough to warrant a trip into town.
Being seen in public has to be a rarity until we are certain her family is no longer searching for her.
After I switch on the coffeepot, I slip into my boots and step outside.
If I hurry through my check of the perimeter security systems, I can come back and make breakfast for everyone before Hannah has a chance to.
Not that I don’t appreciate her cooking for us.
I’d rather see her relax, especially if she isn’t sleeping soundly.
Cameras and motion sensors surround the cabin in a wide circle.
I can monitor them from inside the panic room, but I like to do manual checks to make sure wildlife hasn’t knocked them loose.
Squirrels, birds, and other small creatures sometimes take an interest in them, which can lead to the angles being messed up.
And even a mistake as small as that can be crucial when lives are on the line.
Ensuring the safety of my pack is my highest priority, and that is exactly what Hannah and Kaitlin are. My pack. Maybe not officially yet, but one day they will be. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe until then.
Sweat trickles down my neck when I step into the kitchen an hour later.
Today is going to be sweltering. It isn’t even nine in the morning, and the temperature is already in the mid-eighties.
If we had a pool, this would be the perfect day to go swimming.
There is a lake nearby, but I doubt Hannah would feel comfortable going there so soon after arriving.
Pulling a carton of eggs out of the fridge, I grab a bowl and set them both on the counter. Soft creaks have my attention slipping to the hallway. I’m surprised to see Kaitlin’s tiny head peeking around the corner. After a moment, I realize Hannah isn’t with her.
“Good morning, Princess.” I keep my voice low so that I don’t startle her.
Wide-eyes snap to mine before darting down the floor. “G-good morning.”
“Is Mommy still sleeping?” Her head bobs up and down, and her hands wring together where she has them clasped at her stomach. “Do you want me to help you get set up to color at the table?” Disappointment flashes through her hazel eyes before she agrees.
Her reaction gives me pause. Thinking back to yesterday, I realize that coloring and building with blocks are the only ways I’ve seen her play.
Does she enjoy them that much, or were they the only things she could do at home because they are quiet?
What would this tiny princess choose if she could pick any toy in a toy store?
Crouching down beside her, I tilt my head to meet her eyes. “Or you could help me make breakfast? We can make pancakes and eggs to surprise your mommy with when she wakes up.”
A shy smile accompanies the bob of her head. “I help.”
Leading her into the kitchen, I lift her to sit on the counter, stifling a laugh when she nervously glances around the room.
“You’ll be able to help better from up here, and I promise not to let you fall.
” She relaxes, accepting the egg I hand her and cradling it in her tiny palms. “Have you ever cracked an egg before?” When she nods, I slide the bowl closer and let her show me.
We work together in silence, occasionally digging out stray pieces of shell, but she is surprisingly efficient in her egg-cracking.
It must be something she and Hannah do together often.
“Do you like cooking?”
Brown hair falls around her face as she nods. I should find a tie to pull it up before we start the pancakes, but that would mean waking Hannah.
“Mommy and I cooks lots. I’m her helper. Least when Daddy’s not home.”
Humming, I carefully pour our egg mixture into a parchment-lined pan to go into the oven.
Kaitlin watches me closely but doesn’t ask questions.
Part of me thinks she is still afraid of being too loud, which makes my Alpha want to rage.
This shy little sweetheart deserves better than an asshole father who demands she not be heard.
“Did your daddy not like it when you helped Mommy?” I can’t help but ask. I want to know more about their lives in Whitlan. The good and the bad.
Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I is too messy.”
Not wanting to continue to press her on the topic that makes her shrink into herself, I change gears. “What pancakes should we make? Does Mommy have a favorite?”
Tilting her head to the side, she thinks about my question.
It’s adorable the way she takes her time before answering, showing how much thought she puts into making breakfast for Hannah.
After a moment, she seems to have her answer.
“Blueberries? Mommy eats lotsa fruit with her pancakes. And ‘nanas!”
Opening the fridge, I find a pack of blueberries mixed in with the other fruit Foster picked. Grinning, I hand them to Kaitlin. “Okay, Princess, how about you mix the batter while I heat a griddle?”
Breakfast is almost done when Hannah joins us. Panic morphs her expression when she sees me at the stove, and I have to hide my clenched fist behind my back. “I’m so sorry,” she rushes out, moving to take the spatula from my hands. “I didn’t mean to sleep for so long.”
With my free hand, I gently grip her shoulder to stop her. “You needed the sleep.”
“Well, yes, everyone needs sleep, but-”
“You aren’t here to cook for us, Hannah.
Or clean. You’re here so that we can protect you.
All three of you. Foster and I are both fully capable of cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and watching Kaitlin.
There’s no list of responsibilities you have to take care of.
Go relax. We’ve got breakfast, right, little princess? ”
Kaitlin swings her tiny legs, tapping her feet against the cabinets. She’s lost the weight of fear as we cooked together. Turning a small radio on helped a lot. She seems to enjoy singing along to the songs, even when she doesn’t know the words.
“We cook, Mommy!”
Hannah looks back and forth between us, unsure. When her shoulders fall, and she rubs a hand over her hip, I bite back a sigh of relief. I thought I would have to fight her harder on this.
“Alright, but I will wash the dishes after-”
“Nope!” They both startle when Foster pops up between them, a sleepy grin on his face. “I’ll do the dishes. Today is a no-chore day for this little princess and her mommy.”
Taking the last of the pancakes off the stove, I set them aside and grab a mug from the cabinet.
Foster will need a cup of coffee if he is awake this early; otherwise, we will have a cranky Omega on our hands by mid-afternoon.
He accepts the doctored cup with a grateful smile and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
“Let’s eat,” I grunt as he saunters to the table, swaying his hips so that my eyes are drawn to his delectable ass.
My Omega likes to rile me up, and apparently, he doesn’t care who is around when he does it.
If I didn’t love this side of him, I’d turn his ass red for making me hard with a four-year-old at my side.
Being trapped in this safe house for the next few weeks is going to be a test of my patience.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
” Foster’s head hits my back, his hands wandering beneath my cut-off shirt to rest against my stomach.
A whine builds in his throat, coating his words in a thick layer of frustration.
My Omega is struggling with his instincts.
He needs my scent to help calm him, something I cannot offer when I am taking daily cancelers.
Humming, I lean back against him, offering my weight to steady him. “What do you need?”
“For our Beta to take a fucking break.”
Frowning, I glance across the room to where Hannah is currently deep-cleaning the kitchen.
She’s been nonstop since we arrived a few days ago.
Always cooking or cleaning, even doing our laundry for us.
It’s too much. She’s clearly exhausted but is pushing herself to be helpful.
We both have tried to explain that she doesn’t need to take care of the safe house for us, that we are more than capable of helping.
But she won’t listen. It’s as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself if she isn’t falling back into the role of mother and household manager that she filled in New Hampshire.