Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Iswung my hands at my side, striding away from the car and the driver waiting for us. He’d offered to pull up to the curb where multiple parents waited for their kids, but I preferred walking up to the gate.
Dalton should be where he always waited for me. I turned the corner, passing the gate, and slowed. He stared up at a woman. Blonde and taller than me. It was Silvie.
“Dalton,” I called out.
He whipped his head toward me and his eyes widened. They flicked back up to Silvie. I quickened my stride until I was next to them and grabbed Dalton’s hand.
“Let’s go.” I tugged on his hand, but he didn’t move.
“I don’t want to.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I want to go with my mom.” His tight words hit my chest. He was acting like I was a stranger. He yanked his hand until I let go.
“But Dalton—”
“Listen to the boy,” Silvie snapped, her eyes had a glaze to them. She didn’t seem fully present. “I’m his mother. You aren’t and it’s time you stop behaving like you are.”
I flinched. It wasn’t that at all. I loved Dalton, but I knew I wasn’t his mom. I never wanted to make him uncomfortable or overstep my bounds. Caring about a child was so terribly important.
Dalton took Silvie’s hand, and I quickly clasped his other one.
“I can’t let you go with her,” I murmured. “I’m sorry Dalton, but your . . . mom can contact your dad.” I lifted my chin, meeting her angry eyes.
“You dumb bitch.” Silvie narrowed her gaze at me. “You just can’t listen.”
She pulled her hand out of her purse and all I saw was the glint of something before it hit me across the temple. I yelped, clasping my face, then staggered until I fell onto my butt. It shot agony up my side.
“Don’t!”
Dalton’s shout echoed through the ringing of my ears. My vision warbled and the two figures came in and out of focus. Is someone screaming?
“Please, mom, let her go.”
I squeezed my eyes tight and opened them to find her pulling Dalton behind her.
“No,” I croaked and rolled to my knees.
If she took him, she could get him out of the country, and we wouldn’t find him. I didn’t know where I mustered the strength, but I struggled to my feet and lunged at her. My weight made her fall face down and Hermes was there to help pin her down.
“The cops are on the way,” he panted.
“How did you know?” I heaved, rolling onto my side.
“People saw the gun and started running.”
“Oh . . . good,” I mumbled, spots dancing in front of my eyes. “Make sure Dalton gets home.”
Everything faded into nothing.
The steady beeping of the EKG blended into the background noise of the hospital. I shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position.
“Isabelle!” The shout reached my ears, desperation dripping from my name.
“Sir!” a woman shouted. “Sir, please keep your voice down.”
“Where’s my wife?” he snapped.
A low argument ensued, and the door to my room opened. Caine strode through. I saw him before he saw me. He swept his gaze across the first two patients on the left side of the room, then over to me. His eyes flared.
“Angel,” he croaked and in a stride was at my bedside. He hadn’t taken his eyes off my face. He clasped my jaw and studied the stitched up cut at my temple, rage playing over his features.
“Dalton?”
“He’s okay, but he told me what you did. You stupid girl,” he croaked, rushing at me. His lips clashed with mine. When his hand settled on my arm, I flinched, hissing. “What is it?”
Caine focused on my brace wrapped arm. A thundercloud shifted over his features.
“It’s just a sprain.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.” Emotion coated his voice and it made a knot swell in my throat.
“I’m okay,” I choked out.
“Can I come in, Poppa?” Dalton’s voice trembled.
“Are you up for a visit?” Caine whispered to me. I nodded. “Come in Dalton.”
He shuffled in, eyes red and face blotchy. His blue eyes settled on me, then his face scrunched in before he ran to the other side of my bed. He tossed himself into my side, and wrapped his arms around my waist.
Caine stiffened, ready to pull Dalton off.
“It’s okay,” I whispered and he frowned, but backed off.
Dalton was crying hard, I struggled to understand what he was trying to say.
“Are you angry with me?” he whispered.
“Absolutely not,” I said, patting his back. “I could never be angry at you for wanting to be with your mom.”
He shook his head hard and splayed over my blanket covered lap. “I didn’t want to go with you because I didn’t want her to hurt you,” he sniffled.
My heart melted, and I rubbed little circles on his back. “Dalton, you don’t have to protect me. That’s my job,” I choked out, tears getting the best of me.
Caine curved his arm around my back and rubbed Dalton’s hair.
“It’s my job. And neither of you have to worry about her showing up anymore.” His brief comment was so cold it would have been frightening if it were directed at me. “I have multiple lawyers working on the case.”
“I’m just glad we’re all okay,” I croaked.
Caine kissed my cheek. “I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you,” he whispered against my temple.
I closed my eyes, truly feeling whole with both of them in my life.
Sitting on the edge of Caine’s bed, now our bed, recently bathed and in a thick robe, I rubbed lotion on my legs while I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder.
“Estoy bien. Te lo juro,” I assured mom. “No me deja hacer nada sola.”
She chuckled.
“Me da tanto gusto que lo ayaste.” Her soft voice came through the phone.
“Yo tambien,” I said, turning toward the creaking door, “Pero luego le hablo. Te quiero.”
“Quidate, mija.” The line went dead and I tossed the cell phone on the mattress.
“What are you doing up? You need to stay put,” he admonished, as high strung as he’d been since I’d been discharged a week ago. He crossed his arms, looking down at me on the bed.
I admired the line of his body. He was dressed casually in only sweats.
“Was that your mom on the phone?”
I nodded, hooking my fingers into the bottom of his shirt.
“I want to meet the woman that birthed you.”
“You’re in luck, she’ll be visiting for Christmas.”
He smiled, cupping my jaw, rubbing his thumb along my cheek. His expression turned concerned.
“Why are you out of bed, Isabelle? You were supposed to be settling in after your shower.”
“I wanted to prepare something for Dalton since he was coming home today.”
He’d been staying with Vanessa since I’d been discharged.
“I’ve been meaning to discuss hiring someone to care for him, so your time isn’t so constrained.”
“No, Caine,” I insisted.
His bottom lip pouted out.
This side of him drove me crazy, the softer, playful side.
“Fine, but I am hiring a cook.”
I huffed, knowing that wouldn’t stop me from caring for them as I saw fit.
“Sure, sure,” I patted the outside of his thigh.
“Don’t be stubborn.”
“Me? Stubborn?” I pointed at my chest exaggeratedly.
He huffed and then his body overwhelmed me as he dragged me against his side.
“Get into my arms woman. I need my cuddles.” His lips caught mine. “Have I told you today that I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you haven’t,” I teased. He groaned against my throat, right over where his strawberry-colored claiming bite adorned my throat.
“Well, I don’t,” He mumbled against my skin. “I regret how I didn’t take you in my arms the night after I met you. I wouldn’t blame you for tossing me aside.”
Without fail, he’d been saying something similar to that every morning, as if trying to reassure me. The vulnerability in his tone made my breath hitch and my heart swell multiple sizes. He truly was a sweetheart to me. A perfect match.
“Yeah, you’d deserve seeing me moving on with another man for pushing me away so much,” I teased. He was so tense it felt like he’d shatter in my arms. I could feel his heart thundering against my chest. I nestled my mouth against his shoulder.
“But lucky for you, you get me.” I sank my teeth into his shoulder. His skin popped and blood coated my tongue.
Caine gasped, a tremble coursing the length of his back.
Love echoed from his side of the completed bond, the taste of his pheromones accompanying the emotion.
We were complete. I dozed on a wave of bliss, synced with his breathing.
A vibration came from his chest.
Purring.
I clenched his shirt, moaning as the sound filled me with comfort and lust. It was an odd mix, but everything up until this point had felt like a whirlwind.
I yanked at his shirt.
“I need you,” I whispered.
“Fuck, angel,” he mumbled.
“Yes, that,” I teased.
He snorted, kissing my jaw, while his hands widened my thighs to fit him between them.