Chapter 15 Saint
Saint
I’m not used to fear sitting in my chest like this.
Not the kind that comes from bullets or blood or bad odds.
This is worse.
This is the kind that breathes in a crib in the next room.
I stand in the doorway and watch my daughter sleep.
She’s wrapped in a pink blanket. One tiny fist is curled up by her cheek. Her mouth makes these soft little movements like she’s dreaming about something important.
I don’t know what.
I just know I’d burn the world down before I let anyone touch her.
Wolf steps up beside me. “She’s safe. For now.”
“For now,” I echo.
Laney is sitting in the rocker, exhausted but refusing to sleep. Dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is pulled up in a messy knot. She hasn’t let the baby out of her arms all day unless someone physically insisted.
I get it.
Hell, I feel it.
“She won’t stop, will she?” Laney asks quietly.
“No,” Marco says from the doorway behind us. “My mother doesn’t retreat. She doubles down.”
Laney stiffens at the sound of his voice.
I see it.
That instinctive flinch.
I hate that she’s scared of him.
But I hate more that she has every reason to be.
Marco doesn’t push. He stays by the door. “Laney… I swear to you, on my life, I’m here to protect you. Both of you.”
She looks at me instead of him.
Like she’s asking if that’s true.
I don’t hesitate.
“He is,” I say.
The words come out solid. Certain.
She searches my face.
Then, slowly, she nods.
I move closer and very carefully hold out my arms. “Let me.”
She hesitates.
Then she passes me my daughter.
The moment she settles against my chest, something in me breaks open.
She’s so light.
So warm.
So… mine.
Her little fingers curl into my shirt like she knows me.
Like she trusts me.
My throat locks up.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper to her. “I promise.”
Laney’s eyes go shiny.
I don’t look away.