Page 44 of Savage Protector

I stood slowly, making sure I didn’t spook him, as I slid a hand into my back pocket, where a carefully folded sheet of paper waited. The confirmation of what I’d already known in my gut to be true. Information I’d held in secret for the past week, letting the guilt drive a wedge between us. And why not? It was a reminder of how I had failed her before I knew she existed.

“My intel guys dug this up for me,” I explained. “Fifteen years ago, the fire you set and the explosion that resulted killed Paul Garibaldi and an unidentified woman.”

His jaw worked, his eyes narrowed to slits. “No shit.”

“It turns out that woman had a fourteen-year-old daughter who waited four days for her mother to come home before finally getting the call that she had been identified. Maybe it was a mercy on the part of the medical examiner. I don’t know. I only know that girl is the same woman I’m trying to protect now.”

“Fuck off,” he snarled, staring at the paper in my hand, scoffing. “That can’t be true.”

I dropped the page onto his desk and cleared my throat before reciting the information I’d memorized. “Melanie Bowers, forty years of age at the time of her death. One daughter. Scarlet Bowers. Fourteen years of age.” He did me the enormous favor of looking down at the page, skimming the contents while I spoke. “This is my only chance to make it right, Dad. And you can make it right too. I know you did what you felt you had to do that night. That I’m not interested in debating. What I’m saying is, this is a chance to make it right for a kid you threw into the foster system the night you killed her mother. And if you don’t…”

His gaze lifted, meeting mine, wary again. “If I don’t?”

“Then I tell him. I tell him everything. And by then, he’ll be after you. I’ll keep Mom protected,” I assured him before he could ask. “She’ll have nothing to worry about. But you? You will never live another day without looking over your shoulder.”

“You would do that to me?” It was like he was looking at me through new eyes. “You would give up your father for some… woman?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep.” I lifted an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “I decided that before I walked through the door. I knew you’d force my hand. So what’ll it be?”

Sinking into the chair again, I continued sipping my drink while he stared at me, slack-jawed. “Your move, Dad. But believe me, I’ve never been more serious.”

Less than an hour later, I traced my steps back up to Vaughn’s presidential suite. Everything was in place or as good as. There was one more hurdle to clear. My feet were heavy, but my mind was made up by the time I stepped into the dark, silent suite. This time, the bedroom light was out. I tried and failed to ignore the mental image of Scarlet falling asleep alone, maybe crying, wondering what I was thinking.

How could I be so cruel? She’d understand soon enough.

For now, I indulged my weakness one more time, stripping down to my underwear before sliding under the blankets and slowly, carefully enfolding her soft body in my arms. She stirred, murmuring in her sleep before turning her head. “Everything okay?” she whispered, her voice thick.

“Everything’s fine.” Or it would be soon. Kissing her bare shoulder, I murmured, “Tomorrow, we’ll have dinner here. I owe you something special.” She murmured happily, fitting her body against mine before relaxing into sleep again.

I listened to every breath and felt her heart beating against my chest. I allowed her warmth and sweetness to envelop me.

It would be for the last time. I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve her, and she didn’t deserve me, but for a much different reason. The last thing she needed was my past, my darkness, the baggage I carried. The ties I thought I’d cut forever but insisted on haunting me anyway.

Loving her, and I was pretty sure I did, meant letting her go.

I had to soak up every minute while I could.

18

SCARLET

“Don’t forget. I’ll be here around seven. Be ready for dinner.”

Grayson’s parting words from earlier in the day repeated in my head as I applied another coat of mascara. My hair sat in Velcro rollers, and for the first time in weeks, I had an excuse to wear earrings. I didn’t realize until now how much I’d craved a night out.

Even if we were spending it inside.

It didn’t matter. After leaving me alone last night with no explanation, he owed me a nice dinner. He owed me more than that. Staring at myself in the mirror as I pulled the rollers from my hair, I resolved to hold him accountable. I was through making the same mistakes time and again, something I began to realize after the shine of my orgasms faded, leaving behind a growing ache of emptiness.

So why was I so excited about dinner? Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach all day when I imagined being with him tonight. Just the two of us. Maybe we could forget about everything going on around us for a little while.

No. My freshly made eyes closed, and I gripped the counter, silently cursing myself out for being such an idiot. It didn’t matter how I felt in my heart or the rest of my body, I had to listen to my head, and my head knew I needed to stand up for myself. It was time to break the cycle of letting men walk over me because that was all I’d ever known growing up. I had to be strong for myself.

At ten minutes to seven, my phone buzzed with a text from Grayson. My heart dropped. Is he canceling on me? Crazy how my thoughts immediately went there. A sigh of relief slid out from my pursed lips when I read the message.

Grayson: Stay in the bedroom while I make sure everything is set up.

What did he have in mind? I heard him out there, walking around. Something clattered, followed by a grunted curse. There was noise in the kitchen—drawers opening and closing, cabinet doors banging shut. It would have been cute, hearing him rush around, if I weren’t determined to guard my heart. I needed to be smarter this time. I finished getting ready, reminding myself over and over to be smart. To guard myself even as I adjusted my boobs so they’d look nice and perky in a V-cut dress.