Chapter 32 Erin
Erin
Augusto is out of the car first, already scanning the perimeter, his presence shifting from lethal to controlled in a heartbeat.
“Easy,” he murmurs as I help Paige out beside me.
Her fingers tighten around mine the second her feet hit the ground.
I look around as we approach the house, trying to take in our new surroundings and searching for anything suspicious—not that I would know what to look for particularly.
The safe house is warm inside and the furniture is soft and homely. The only suggestion that this place has been used as a security hideout is the enormous electric panel by the door, which likely controls the gate, exterior lighting and security cameras.
Mallorie must hear our voices because she comes rushing out of a room, clutching her phone, her red hair especially untamed and her eyes wild.
“Oh my God—” She barrels forward, grabbing both me and Paige at once. “You’re okay. Thank God you’re okay.”
Behind her, a man—dark-haired, early thirties perhaps, another gym freak with biceps bursting from his tee—emerges from the same room and leans against the doorframe, watching us quietly.
“Hey,” Augusto says, kicking the front door closed.
The man nods once in reply.
“You must be Mallorie,” Augusto says, holding out his hand.
“Um, yeah, hi.”
I’ve never seen Mallorie flustered before. I guess there’s a first time for everything. As soon as Augusto walks away, Mallorie pans to me, her mouth contorted into an actual ‘o.’
I glare at her before jerking my head toward Paige. Now is not the time.
“Where’s your dad?” Mallorie asks, then I realize that as far as she knows, he’d sent for Paige, quite innocently.
Paige sobs and curls into me.
Mallorie looks up, concerned.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything soon,” I say. “Who’s the guy?”
Mallorie rolls her eyes. “Someone named ‘Arrow’.” She puts finger quotes around the name. “I mean, what kind of a name is that?”
“I can hear you,” comes a dangerous voice from several feet away.
“Good,” Mallorie snaps. “Saves me having to repeat myself.”
I turn to her and raise my brows, pointedly.
“He manhandled me into a car,” she clips.
“You were being difficult.”
“Difficult?” she says, her jaw falling open as she spins around to glare at him. “I was merely asking who you were and why on earth I had to accompany a man I’ve never met in my life to a blacked out vehicle.”
“I didn’t have time to explain.”
Mallorie huffs. “Tell that to the judge.”
The man’s eyes dart to me. “She always this hotheaded?”
I bite back a smile but nod.
“You could have just tried harder to explain,” Mallorie snaps.
Arrow lifts a brow. “I don’t do explanations.”
Mallorie huffs again, folding her arms. “You don’t do smiling either, apparently.”
A beat passes, then—almost imperceptibly—the corner of his mouth twitches.
Augusto watches the exchange for a moment, then turns to me.
“You and Paige take the room at the end of the hall,” he says gently. “It’s quiet and the bed is all made up. There’s a secure bolt on the door—for some extra peace of mind.”
The word secure should comfort me, but instead, it makes my chest ache.
He crouches slightly in front of Paige, his voice softening in a way that makes my heart twist. “You’re safe here. No one will touch you. Not now. Not ever.”
Paige nods, studying him with wide, searching eyes.
Then he straightens and flicks his gaze to mine as everyone else diverts theirs.
“Are you going back to Winter Pines?” I ask, every bone in my body praying he isn’t.
“I have to,” he says firmly. “There are still loose ends at the retreat. People who’ll be looking for answers.”
“For revenge,” I say.
“For control,” he corrects.
My throat tightens.
“You, Paige and Mallorie stay here,” he says. “Arrow won’t leave the perimeter. No one comes in or out without my approval. Your mother is on her way. And I’ll be back. Hopefully before nightfall.”
I step forward before I can think better of it and press my forehead against his chest. His arms come around me instantly, strong and certain and devastatingly careful.
“This scares me,” I admit. “You scare me.”
His chin rests briefly on the top of my head.
“You terrify me,” he murmurs.
I pull back, blinking up at him.
His eyes darken. “You make me want to survive this. My life has never been a priority for me before now. But you’ve given me something I never had before. Someone to live for.”
My heart stumbles over itself.
“Be safe,” I whisper.
He presses a kiss to my forehead then turns away to speak with Arrow. They both head outside to discuss the next move, leaving behind a silence louder than the gunshots.
Paige sits on the edge of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chin, fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve.
“Mom?” she asks quietly.
I sit beside her, taking her hands in mine. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“Did you… really not know about Dad?”
The question makes me feel like an idiot—like I’ve failed my own daughter, even though I know that’s not her intention.
“No,” I say honestly. “I didn’t.”
She frowns. “But he worked in exports. And risk. And all that stuff.”
“Yes,” I agree. “And he was very good at making everything look legitimate.”
I pause, still figuring out how to put all this into words.
“He shut me out, Paige. It happened gradually over the years. First it was the promotions, then the work trips, then the long hours. And before I knew it, he’d be gone for weeks at a time and I stopped questioning it.”
“Why?”
“Because I found all the love I needed right here,” I say, brushing her hair back gently. “With you.”
Her bottom lip trembles.
I take a deep breath. “And toward the end, he wasn’t just distant. He was cruel. I didn’t move us across the country on a whim, love. I did it to keep you safe.”
Her brows knit, not following.
“He hit me, Paige. Badly. There was no way I was going to let him do the same to you.”
My daughter’s eyes widen in horror.
“That’s why we moved back in with Grandma. I wasn’t just starting over. I was getting us out.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “Does Grandma know?”
Sighing, I shake my head. “No. I didn’t want you thinking too badly of your father and I didn’t want to put Grandma in the position of keeping a secret from you.”
“She’s on her way, though.”
“Yes,” I nod. “And when she arrives, I’ll tell her.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Paige hiccups. “I’m so sorry. I gave you such a hard time about moving and school and everything and I didn’t know and I just kept complaining and—”
“Hey.” I pull her into my arms, holding her tight. “You weren’t to know. I pulled you out of your life, took you away from your friends and your school. You’re allowed to be upset about your life changing.”
“I should’ve trusted you,” she says, sobbing.
“No, you had every right to be angry and confused. I should have been more honest with you.”
She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “What happens now?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
The truth settles heavily in my chest, because deep down, beneath the relief, beneath the adrenaline, beneath the way my heart seems to beat for the man who brought us here, I do know something.
I know I can’t live like this.
I know I can’t raise my daughter in a safe house surrounded by security, or watching over our shoulders in New York, or any place where conversations involve guns, war and death.
I know I can’t rely on a man—no matter how strong, how gentle, how dangerously good he feels—to protect what is mine.
That is my job, not his.
Even if my heart is betraying me at a terrifying speed and I’m falling for him in a way that feels reckless and entirely out of my control.
I press a kiss to Paige’s hair and hold her tighter.
Loving Augusto might feel like safety, but choosing him could mean a life bordered by danger.
And I will not trade my daughter’s peace for my own happiness.