Chapter 44
Chapter forty-four
Noah
I’m glad to be home. Or my current version of home.
Rhys’s home.
He’s right behind me, close enough that I can feel him without looking. Ready to catch me if my legs give out again. The hospital said I was fine. Three hours of checks, observations, and oxygen.
Fine.
But my body doesn’t agree.
Rhys guides me straight into the living room, not even pausing for the usual shoe removal. That alone tells me how serious he thinks this is.
The sofa has been turned into a bed.
Quilt. Pillows. Everything stripped back and rebuilt for me.
The drumbeat of a wagging tail pulls my attention away.
Honey.
She leaves her pups immediately, crossing the space to me as if I’m the only thing that matters.
“Sit first,” Rhys orders.
I obey without thinking, sinking into the sofa as Honey presses against my leg. My hand finds her automatically, fingers burying into her fur.
It's grounding.
Someone tried to kill me, or did a very good impression of it.
Maybe he didn't want me dead; I wouldn't be able to take on his debts if he killed me.
The man threatening me did a better job of trying to kill me than the man who tried to kill me.
I glance at the man in question.
Rhys hasn't stopped pottering around, ensuring the heat lamp is over Honey's babies. Then he brings the incubator over next, placing it within reach on the coffee table as if it belongs here now. Like everything I care about has been pulled into one space so I don’t have to move.
So I don’t have to break.
“You’re not getting up,” he says.
“I wasn’t planning to,” I mumble, my voice still rough. It's a lie. If he hadn’t said it, I probably would have tried.
He crouches in front of me then, close enough that I can see every tiny shift in his expression. Controlled. Calm.
Too calm.
His fingers brush lightly over my throat, checking the marks without pressing.
“You’re staying right here with me and Honey tonight.”
It isn’t a suggestion.
I nod anyway.
Because I want to be here.
Because the second I think about being alone…
My chest tightens.
I focus on Honey instead, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, on the soft weight of her leaning into me.
“I keep thinking I can still feel it,” I admit quietly. “The lead.”
Rhys goes still. Not visibly. But I feel it.
Like something sharp just slid under his skin.
“It’s gone,” he says.
I nod again. “I know.”
I don’t sound convinced, probably because I’m not.
Silence settles between us, but it’s not empty.
It’s… full. Heavy in a way that doesn’t feel bad.
If I can just keep looking into his eyes, everything won't be so much.
All the pressure of the past few days is still there, but it isn't all on me.
His eyes drop to my hands, where his thumbs rub soothing circles across my skin.
“I didn’t think,” I say after a moment. “With the brick.”
His gaze lifts to mine instantly.
“You did.”
“I didn’t choose,” I whisper. “I just… moved.”
My fingers tighten slightly in Honey’s fur; his thumb doesn't stop moving for a second.
“What if it had been you?”
It's been the only thought spinning through my mind for the past few hours.
Rhys doesn’t answer straight away. He looks like this hasn't crossed his mind until I just mentioned it, but I know he's been thinking about it as much as me.
“You didn’t hit me.”
That’s all he says.
And somehow, that’s worse. I need him to explain that he forgives me. That he's fine. That I saved him, just like he saved me.
I swallow hard, the tightness in my throat protesting.
“You said you would have killed him.” I move on to the next thing pressing on my mind. He would have covered all this up for me. Without a moment's doubt, he was willing to do that for me.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No softening.
Just the truth.
Something twists in my chest. Not fear exactly. Something heavier.
Something that settles deeper the more I think about it.
Honey shifts beside me, letting out a soft huff as she settles again. She's choosing me over her pups. Just like Rhys chose me over his practice.
I'm going to be responsible for all of them.
The puppies.
The staff.
This place.
Him.
Rhys stands suddenly, the movement sharp enough to pull my attention back to him.
“I’ll get you water.”
He says it too quickly, too controlled. He needs space from me, from the chaos of thirteen pups.
I try to keep my eyes open while he's gone. I swear I only blink, but when I open them, he's sitting on the armchair and I'm covered with the quilt that wasn't across me before.
He's sitting back with an amber liquid in a glass and his laptop open on his knees. Worse still, my treacherous dog has abandoned me for him before she's even officially mine. But she looks good lying at his feet. Like a proper dog should.
“She's going to abandon her puppies,” I observe, wincing at my raw throat.
“Sip the water.” Rhys gives practical advice while sitting across the room, working. I reach for the glass he put on the side.
“I'll be fine if you want to go to bed.” Clearly my body needs sleep more than my mind needs to spiral. I feel bad making sit here with me.
“This isn't work I can do during office hours,” he informs me bluntly.
I get it. I even make the highly obvious ‘oh’ sound. He's looking into my attacker. He's looking into the debt.
“Check if he has a good dental plan,” I chuckle. No one can take getting booped in the face with a brick and not lose a few teeth.
“He's not my problem,” Rhys mutters. “The police have him now. I'm sure their dental care is top-rate.”
“Then who are you stalking for me?”
“For you?” He chuckles. “I'm doing this for me.”
“You’re going to take him apart for you, but you've chosen him for me.”
Rhys doesn't look at me; instead, his eyes flick to the door.
“I mean it, you don't need to be here. I'll be fine. Just make up a whole jug of milk and find me one more puppy.”
“One more?” He frowns, suddenly giving me all his attention.
“Thirteen pups. Honey's twelve plus Bobo. That's unlucky. Unlucky thirteen. Either we get one more, or one is going to die. I don't want Bunny to die.”
He smiles. It's not humoring me over my superstitions.
He's smiling over my fondness for the tiny little runt I originally dismissed.
“I'll feed them. That will take a few hours, and then I'll go to sleep with Honey curled up on the sofa with me.” I give him a smile of my own as he places his laptop on the coffee table. “I hope you don't mind dogs on the sofa.”
He just looks at me. Unreadable.
I can read that as dangerous. Powerful. My predator.
He walks out, leaving me alone with my menagerie of twelve-plus-one puppies, and a dog.
Ten minutes later he returns with a mug of tea and a jug of puppy milk.
I expect him to sit back down, but instead he kisses the top of my head and then leaves the room.
The room feels too large the instant he leaves.
I almost call him back.
Instead, I sit up and fill the first bottle, offering it to Bunny.
He instinctively starts sucking. His little tongue darting back and forever. His feet kneading against the blanket. This is who I am. Tonight, that's enough.