Page 45 of Ruthless Protector

If we talked about it, if we tried to put it into words, I’d cave, and I’d never be able to stop this thing burning between us. This thing that felt so damn big. Too big.

I’d let it engulf me.

I’d burn to ash.

Another deafening, heavy silence.

“So what did you want?” I asked, breaking the quiet tension. I glanced over at him when he didn’t answer right away. He was watching me, something I couldn’t name, something I couldn’t bear to see, staring back at me. “Look I’m kinda busy,” I choked out. “Whatever this is about will have to wait.”

My pulse was racing, thumping so hard I felt out of breath. I wanted to go to him, I wanted to run the other way. I was so confused my stomach was in knots.

His hands went to his hips. “All right, sweetheart,” he finally said, low and gritty. “I see how it is.”

I froze, then shoved a packet of pasta in the cupboard as his words sunk in. “Hmm?” I said, when I knew exactly what he meant. I’d had a change of heart. What I’d offered was now off the table.

Was it, though? Is that what I’d just done? I guess I had. Suddenly, I felt ill.

“Message received,” he said. “Loud and clear.”

Jude had just bowed out. He wouldn’t push for more from me, not now. Honestly, I didn’t blame him.

I carried on, pretending to fuss about the kitchen, still studiously avoiding those brown eyes. A wave of sadness hit me out of nowhere, like a tsunami. Christ, I thought I might actually cry. What the hell was wrong with me?

“I’ll be moving into the apartment downstairs until the repairs to my place are done. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way.” Then he turned and walked out.

My gaze snapped to him, to his retreating back, the words on the tip of my tongue. “Don’t go.” But I bit them back because they weren’t the only things that were flying through my mind.

I’m terrified.

You make me feel safe.

I’m so damn lonely.

I need you.

Those last words jolted me back to reality, and not just out of my own head. I grabbed for the table like the ground was pulled from beneath my feet.

“Don’t let a man fuck up your life like I did, Willa, like Mom did. I…I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Tilly if anything happens to me. Promise me you’ll raise her right. No man. You’ll look after my baby, you’ll keep her safe, and you’ll do it on your own.”

I couldn’t fight it anymore, and agony washed over me, wave after intensifying wave, the tears stinging my eyes, spilling over. I’d let Rebecca down while she was alive. I hadn’t done enough. And I knew in my soul, it was my fault she was gone. My fault Tilly didn’t have her mom. If only I’d forced her to go back to rehab sooner. God, I don’t know, locked her in the damned basement until she was better. She’d still be here.

I’d made Rebecca a promise. A promise I intended to keep. I wouldn’t let down her daughter like I had her. I’d moved heaven and earth to protect her. To do right by her. And that started with abiding by her mother’s wishes.

Still, I found myself moving to the living room window, watching through the net curtains as Jude grabbed something else from the saddle bag on his bike and took it into the apartment.

He appeared back outside a moment later, locked the door, and got back on his bike.

I jumped when the engine roared to life.

He revved it a few times, and glanced up at my apartment. Something rose up in me, something so strong I actually took a step toward the front door, my hand reaching for the handle. But before I could pull it open, I heard him ride away.

I pressed my forehead to the cool wood. It was for the best. Tilly and I were better off alone.

* * *

Jude didn’t come back that night, or the two after that.

* * *