Chapter 24 Colt couldn't sleep. What had he gotten, two hours? Three? Whatever it was, it probably wasn't enough, but he wasn't going to get any more. Not tonight. He watched the moonlight flicker over the road outside, telling himself he was here and not in bed because he didn't want to wake Indie. But that wasn't true. He needed to watch the house. Wait. Because his father would make an appearance, it was just a question of when. He closed his eyes, and the night he'd met Ben flashed back in his mind. Colt fisted his hands so hard that his knuckles ached. He was angry. Angry at his no-good father for making him run and hide again tonight. And that he'd brought those men onto their doorstep. His mother could have been home. What then? What would they have done to her? He and his mother deserved better. He was only eight, but he knew that much. Colt looked out his bedroom window into the dark night. He should be sleeping, but he couldn't. What if his dad came back? Or worse, what if those men he owed money to came back? Actually, he wasn't sure if that was worse. Would he prefer the devil he knew or someone new to terrorize his mother? A door opened somewhere downstairs. It was so quiet the noise almost didn't reach him. But he'd become so attuned to any sound in this house over the years that he still heard it. He shot up and pulled the knife from beneath his pillow. His mother had tried to take it from him, but he'd snuck it up here when she wasn't watching. Then he ran-quick, silent steps out of his room and down the large hall. He'd just reached the top of the stairs when he saw a man beside his mother by the front door. Not his father. This guy was broader. And his eyes were clear rather than glazed over like his dad's. Was he one of the assholes who wanted money? He sprinted down the stairs, brandishing the knife. "Who are you?" "Colt!" his mother gasped. "Honey, give me the knife." "No! I want to know who he is." As a kid, he didn't have the height or the breadth to be much of a threat, but what he lacked in size, he made up for in anger. The guy wasn't fazed. He stepped forward and crouched. "Hi, Colt. I'm Ben." "What are you doing here?" "Your mother called me. I'm going to stay with you for a little while. Make sure your dad and anyone else who wants to hurt you doesn't come back." Colt's frown deepened. "You're here to protect my mom?" "I'm here to protect both of you." There was kindness in his eyes but also a hardness. He reminded Colt of some guys who'd visited his school once. They'd worn uniforms and talked about their jobs in the Army. "Do you know how to protect us?" Colt asked quietly. "I was a Marine. Do you know what that is?" Colt shook his head. "It's someone who's trained to keep people safe. We're trained to be strong and brave." Strong and brave...two things that, even at eight, Colt knew he wanted to be. He tried to be. Ben held out his hand. "Give me the knife, son. You don't need that anymore." For a second, Colt didn't move. He studied the stranger in front of him. He didn't want to trust a new person. But they needed help. "I believe you." Just three words, then Colt handed over the knife. Arms wrapped around Colt's middle, pulling him out of his memory and tensing his muscles. Then her familiar scent hit him. "Indie." "Of course. Are you okay?" Shit. He hadn't heard her coming. What if she'd been someone else? He needed to be more damn alert. "Yeah. I was just in my head." "Want to talk about it?" He covered her hands on his stomach with his own. "I was thinking about Ben. About the night I met him." "Will you tell me?" "He told me he was a Marine, and that he was trained to be strong and brave. He was everything I wanted to be." "You were only eight." "Yeah." She stepped in front of him, studying him. "And you did it. You became a Marine." "Yeah. But now he's in the hospital because-" "Of your father," Indie interrupted. "He's there because of Gordon. And that's on him, no one else." "I know you're right. It still hurts." Indie's eyes flickered between his. "I'd like to come with you today to visit your mom. Is that okay?" "Of course. I don't want you out of my sight." "Good. I don't want you out of my sight either. Someone needs to protect you too, you know." A smile played at his lips. "Are you going to protect me, Cricket?" "With my life." Fuck, he loved her. But then the smile slipped from her lips. "What are you going to do when your mom gets better?" That was something else he needed to think about. "I love her. I love her so damn much, and I want her to be okay. But I don't know how to have her in my life when she won't treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I'm not giving you up. You're my wife. You'll always be my priority." She cupped his cheek. "Maybe you just tell her that. Put your boundaries in place and let her choose what she wants to do with them." "You make it sound so simple." "I'm pretty smart." "I've never met anyone smarter or kinder than you, Indie Reed." He tugged her closer and kissed her cheek, then her jaw. "Mm. You forgot pretty." "You're not pretty. You're fucking gorgeous." He nuzzled her neck. She chuckled. "Colt, I-" Suddenly she stopped and gasped, before putting a hand to her belly. His head shot up and his arms tightened around her. "What's wrong?" "I think..." She stopped, hand still on her stomach. Then she ran out of the room. What the hell? He followed her into the bathroom to see her drop and throw up in the toilet. He cursed and dropped behind her, pulling back her hair and rubbing her back. Was she sick? Had she caught a virus or eaten something bad? When she finally sat back, he studied her pale skin. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I kind of woke up feeling a bit nauseous but forgot about it when I saw you. Then...I don't know, it just hit me full force." "We should see a doctor." She shook her head. "No. I'll eat something and see if that makes me feel better." "Indie-" "Colt, I'm okay. Really." He didn't like it. And if the nausea remained, he would be pushing for a visit to the doctor. Indie remained close to Colt as they walked through the hospital waiting room, her hand in his. Sylvia would be awake. What kind of mood would she be in? Would she be annoyed that Indie was there? Or might she finally start coming around? They turned a corner and a man walking toward them made her frown. Why, exactly, she wasn't sure. Because of the tattoos down his arm? Because of his size? He passed them, and she shook her head. She was just freaked out about Gordon. She shouldn't be judging a man because of a couple of tattoos. They rounded another corner, and halfway down the hall, a deputy was stationed outside of Sylvia's room. Colt's fingers tightened around hers. They stopped beside the guy. "I'm Colt, the son," he said, and showed his driver's license. The deputy dipped his head. "Wade. Sheriff told me about you. Go in when you're ready. She's awake." "Thanks." Colt turned to Indie. "Are you sure you want to come in with me?" "Yes. I'd like to know she's okay. I also want to support you." She glanced at the seats in the hall. "But if you'd prefer I didn't-" "No. I want you with me. And she needs to see us together." Relief sent air rushing from her chest. A part of her had been scared he'd want her to wait outside. And she'd understand. Sylvia had just gone through something really traumatic-maybe he didn't want to risk upsetting her. But she was glad he wanted her with him, and hoped Sylvia would be okay with it. "I'll be right by your side, then." "Are you feeling okay?" he asked. "So much better since eating something. I don't know what was going on." It must have been a low blood sugar thing. Either that or sleep- or stress-induced. Heck, it could be a whole list of things. Colt studied her. "You let me know if you're not feeling well and we'll go straight home." She nodded. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead before pushing inside. Just like the previous night, nausea swelled in Indie's belly at the sight of bruises on Sylvia's face and the tubes attached to her body. Sylvia's eyes popped right open, and the start of a smile curved her lips. "Colt, honey." Then she looked at Indie, and the smile slipped. Only a fraction, but she saw it. "Indie." Guess things weren't any different. Indie offered a small smile. "Hi, Sylvia." Colt stepped forward and touched his mother's hand. "How are you feeling?" "I woke up in so much pain this morning, but the lovely nurses gave me some more medication and now I barely feel anything." "Good. And last night was quiet?" "Your father didn't make an appearance." "Thank God." Colt lowered into the seat beside the bed. "What happened last night, Mom?" Real fear flickered in Sylvia's eyes, and even though so much had happened between them, Indie's heart hurt for the woman. "Ben and I walked out of the community center. I wanted to leave early because I was tired. We'd just reached the car when Ben heard something. He shouted at me to get down. I heard a gun." Tears glistened in Sylvia's eyes. "He was shot. I wanted to help him, but your father stepped out from behind a car. I ran back toward the building to get help. That's when I was calling you. But he caught me before I could get inside." Colt's muscles visibly bunched, and Sylvia took a moment to compose herself before she continued. "He wanted money," she continued. "A lot. I said no. Said he wasn't getting a single cent from me ever again-and he just lost it. He was angrier than I'd ever seen him." Colt's jaw pulsed, and Indie set a palm on his back, a gentle reminder that she was here. "Did he say what the money was for?" Colt asked through gritted teeth. "No. But we both know it's probably for drugs. That man could have all the money in the world and it wouldn't be enough to support his addiction." Colt leaned forward. "I'm going to get him, Mom." The fear in Sylvia's eyes intensified. "No! I told you, you need to stay away from him." "Mom-" "No." She shook her head and forced herself to sit straighter. "I don't want you anywhere near him. Nothing good will come from that. Do you understand me?" When Colt didn't respond, his mother leaned toward him. "It's not your job to protect me, baby. I'm your mother. I protect you." This time, tears blurred Indie's vision. This was why she didn't want Colt to lose his mother from his life. Because Sylvia loved him. She loved him so much. She just didn't always direct that love the right way. The ringing of Colt's phone cut through the room. He pulled it out of his pocket and pressed it to his ear. "Jesse, you got anything?" He straightened. "Yeah, I'm already at the hospital with Mom. I can be there in a couple of minutes." He hung up. "What is it?" Sylvia asked. "Ben's awake. I'm going to go talk to him." "I want to see him." Sylvia tried to climb out of bed, but Colt gently touched a hand to her shoulder. "No. You need to get stronger first. I'll let you know what he says." She huffed but lay back against her pillows. Colt reached for Indie's hand, but she touched his chest. "Actually, I might wait here with your mom, if that's okay?" His brows flickered. "Are you sure?" "Yes. I'll keep her company." He still didn't look convinced, but he nodded and flicked one last glance his mother's way before leaving the room. When it was just the two of them, the older woman shook her head. "You didn't need to stay, Indie. I'm quite okay by myself." "So nothing's changed? I was so hoping something would." "I don't know what you're talking about. You already said everything you needed to when I came to your house the other day. And Colt confirmed it for me. There's nothing new you can say that I don't already know." She swallowed before stepping forward. "I see why you're the way you are now." Sylvia swung her gaze back to her, surprise in her eyes. That clearly hadn't been what Sylvia expected her to say. "You can't forgive yourself for not leaving Gordon sooner. You blame yourself for allowing someone you trusted to hurt your son. So now it's easier to trust no one. But he never blamed you, Sylvia. So for him, there was nothing to forgive." Tears appeared in Sylvia's eyes, her frown deep. "I can't give him up," Indie pushed. "I tried that, and it didn't work...for either of us. I don't want him to lose you, either. But if you make him choose, he'll choose me." Sylvia's chest rose on a sharp inhale, pain in her eyes. "I don't say that to boast or to rub my importance in his life in your face. I say it as the simple fact it is. He'll choose me, and he'll lose you. And I don't want him to lose you, because you're his mother. His family. And he loves you. So don't make him choose." A tear rolled down Sylvia's cheek. "I don't know how to trust you enough not to hurt him." "That's fair. I left him once. But I did so because my head was underwater and I had to choose between pulling myself out and waiting for the storm to pass or drowning us both. I saved us by giving us a break. I healed myself so we could find our way back to each other." "Are you healed now?" "Mostly. I don't think anyone's ever completely healed of what hurts us, but I love myself enough to love him too. And I will never leave him again. I'll love him until the day I die. You can trust me with him. That's a promise I make to you. So, by choosing me, you'd choose him too." The silence that followed felt long and drawn out. There was sadness in Sylvia's face. And some regret. Maybe also some confusion. Finally, she said softly. "I appreciate you talking to me, dear. I'm going to think about what you've said." It wasn't a promise that things would improve. But Indie had done what she could. The rest was up to Sylvia.