Chapter 12 #2
"Yes, I did." I reach over and gently touch her uninjured arm. "Maybe not the specifics, but I signed up for all of it. Everything that comes with caring about you."
Fresh tears spill over at my words. "I'm so scared," she admits. "Not just of Evan, but of... this. Of letting myself believe I could have something good here. Because what if he ruins it? What if he drives me away again and I lose everything I'm starting to build?"
The vulnerability in her voice is overwhelming. This is Maya stripped of all her defenses. No sarcasm, no self-deprecating humor, no walls between her and the world. Just raw fear and the desperate hope that maybe, finally, she's found her place in the world.
"He can't drive you away unless you let him," I tell her. "And you're not alone in this fight."
"Why?" The question comes out broken. "Why do you care so much? Why are you willing to put yourself at risk for someone who's brought nothing but trouble to your life?"
I look at this brilliant, brave woman who thinks she's nothing but trouble, and my heart aches for all the people who've made her believe that about herself.
"Because you're not trouble, Maya. You're worth the fight." I shift closer, and when she doesn't pull away, I gather her into my arms. "You're worth everything."
She melts against me then, her face buried in my shoulder, and I can feel her tears soaking through my shirt. I hold her while she cries, one hand stroking her hair, murmuring nonsense words of comfort against her temple.
"I'm so tired of being afraid," she whispers against my neck.
"I know, sweetheart. I know."
For the first time since I've known her, Maya Bennett lets herself be completely vulnerable with another person. And I understand that this moment, her trusting me with her broken pieces, is more intimate than any kiss we could share.
"I've got you," I tell her, meaning every word. "I'm not going anywhere."
She nods against my shoulder, and gradually, her breathing evens out. The tears slow, then stop, but she doesn't pull away from my arms.
And I don't let go.
***
By the time Harper gets home from work, Maya has fallen asleep against my shoulder, exhausted by the emotional storm. Harper takes one look at the bruises on Maya's arm and the way I'm holding her, and her expression goes fierce.
"Tell me," she says quietly, settling into the chair across from us.
I fill her in on what happened while Maya sleeps, and Harper's jaw gets tighter with every detail. When I finish, she's silent for a long moment.
"You're welcome to stay tonight, if you want to keep an eye on things."
"I was planning on it." I shift carefully, trying not to wake Maya. "I'll take the couch or the floor. Whatever works."
"There's a chair in her room." Harper's voice is gentle with understanding. "If you want to be closer."
Maya stirs at the sound of our voices, blinking up at me with sleep-heavy eyes. "What time is it?"
"Almost seven," Harper answers. "You've been out for two hours."
"Two hours?" Maya sits up, immediately alert. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Don't." I catch her hand before she can pull completely away. "You needed the rest."
"Harper, I should explain about today—"
"Lucas already filled me in." Harper's expression is soft but determined. "Maya, honey, you don't need to explain anything. This is your home now, for as long as you need it to be."
Home. The word seems to settle something in Maya's shoulders.
After dinner—takeout Chinese that Harper insists on buying—Maya retreats to the guest room to shower and try to process the day. I help Harper clean up, both of us moving quietly around the kitchen.
"Thank you," Harper says as we finish loading the dishwasher. "For protecting her. For being what she needs."
"She'd do the same for me."
"Would she?" Harper tilts her head, studying me. "A month ago, I would have said Maya Bennett doesn't stick around long enough to protect anyone. But you've changed something in her."
Before I can respond to that loaded observation, Maya appears in the doorway wearing pajamas and looking too fragile.
"I think I'm going to try to sleep," she says. "It's been a long day."
"Good idea." I stand up, reaching for my jacket. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."
"Outside?"
"The hallway. Harper said I could use the chair."
Maya's eyes go wide with understanding. "Lucas, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I do." I keep my voice gentle but firm. "I'm not leaving you unprotected. Not tonight."
She stares at me for a moment, and I can see her wrestling with the urge to argue, to insist she can take care of herself. But the bruises on her arm tell a different story, and we both know it.
"Thank you," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Always."
I settle into the chair I dragged from Maya's room, positioning it in the hallway as Harper disappears into her own room.
I know Maya needs space, but being any further away than outside her bedroom door isn't an option.
The house grows quiet, but I'm wide awake, every sense alert for the sound of cars in the driveway or footsteps on the porch.
"Lucas?" Maya's voice drifts through the door.
"I'm here."
"I'm glad."
Three hours pass in quiet vigilance. I’ve listened to Maya moving around in her room. The soft shuffle of feet on hardwood, the creak of the bed frame as she settles in, the rustle of sheets as she tries to find a comfortable position.
Gradually, the sounds fade to the deep, even breathing of sleep.
I let myself relax slightly in the chair, though my senses stay alert for any disturbance.
The house is solid, well-built, with good locks and an alarm system Harper actually uses.
But none of that stops me from cataloguing every sound.
The hum of the refrigerator, the settling of the old wood frame, the distant traffic on Main Street.
Around midnight, Maya starts talking in her sleep.
At first, it's just soft murmurs I can't make out through the door. But then her voice gets clearer, more distinct, and I catch fragments of words that make my heart race.
"Don't go," she whispers, voice thick with sleep and longing. "Please don't leave me."
I lean closer to the door, drawn by the vulnerability in her sleeping voice.
"Lucas." My name comes out as a sigh, soft and full of need. "I love you too."
The words knock the wind out of me. Because she's asleep, unguarded, and these are the feelings she can't bring herself to say when she's awake. This is her heart talking, without the filters of fear or self-protection.
She loves me too.
I close my eyes and let that truth wash over me. Through all her walls and defenses, through all her reasons why this is complicated and risky, Maya loves me. Maybe she's not ready to admit it to herself, but her sleeping mind knows what her heart wants.
"Lucas," she murmurs again, and there's peace in her voice now. "Safe."
I lean my head back against the door frame and smile in the darkness. Whatever else happens with Evan Pierce, whatever challenges we face in building something together, I have this moment. This knowledge that Maya Bennett loves me, trusts me, feels safe with me standing guard outside her door.
"I've got you, sweetheart," I whisper back, knowing she can't hear me but needing to say it anyway. "Always."