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“I fell for that before,” she mutters before she’s able to stop herself, her arms instantly wrapping around her chest and, not for the first time, I wish it was me holding her. That thought is shoved aside as the truth of her words trickle into my consciousness.
“You’ve been hurt, physically, emotionally?” I ask her tentatively, knowing that there is no other explanation, that I’ve no right to ask something so personal, but do so anyway.
“Beyond measure,” she replies softly.
“The boy’s father?”
She nods, her expression crumbling as she brings her hands up to cover her face, her shoulders curving inward as she tries to gather herself.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I say, meaning it, feeling this ball of anger coming alive in my chest, but I push those feelings aside too, she doesn’t need to bear the weight of my feelings on top of her own. Her shoulders are already weighted heavily by the shit she’s been through, and I’m not going to add to it.
“Tomorrow we’ll be out of your hair, and you can get back to normal,” she eventually says, swiping at her eyes and rounding the bed. Gingerly she sits down and twists her body to face me. Her beautiful eyes are swimming with more unshed tears, and my gut fucking knots itself up in empathy for her.
“I chose to be here, Lia,” I remind her. “You’re not a burden.”
Licking her lips, she nods, her features softening just a fraction. I know I don’t have her complete trust, I don’t even expect it, but at least she’s willing to rest. Small steps are better than none at all.
“Is this okay?” she asks, laying on the edge of the bed, as far away as she can get without falling onto the floor.
“You’re asking me that?” I counter, resting back against the headboard as I turn my head towards her. She lets out a broken laugh, and the sound fucking guts me. That piece of shit who hurt her deserves to be crucified for causing her so much fucking pain. I’ve put men in hospital for far less than that.
“Old habits die hard,” she replies cryptically, lying on her side as she stares at her son.
“Just sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She shifts on the bed, drawing her knees up slightly, and I can’t help but notice the way she winces as she moves.
“Thank you,” she mutters, fatigue finally pulling her under moments later.
I don’t fall asleep immediately, instead I listen to the soft puffs of Lia’s breath as she slumbers, and the sweet murmurs from Toby’s mouth, his body warm and relaxed against mine.
Outside the soft patter of thick winter snow falls against the windowpane and I find myself wondering how I can stop this incredibly strong woman and her sweet boy from leaving in just a few short hours. But most of all, I wonder how I can hide the truth of who I am from a woman who’s already been deeply scarred by way too much violence in her life.
SIX
LIA
Blinking back the last dregs of sleep, I automatically reach for Toby, remembering too late that he fell asleep in Drix’s arms as my hand slides upwards across the firm planes of a warm, muscular chest.
“Where’s Toby?” I ask, panicking as I’m suddenly all too aware that my body has been pressed against a man I barely know as I untangle my legs from his.
“I’m taking a poop, Mama!” his voice calls from the bathroom. “Don’t worry, it’s a good one this time.”
“A good one?” I groan, a relieved breath whooshing out of my chest as Drix chuckles, the rumble of his laughter reminding me that I still have my hand pressed against him. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologise, Lia,” he replies, swiping a hand through his hair as I pull my hand back, my cheeks heating.
“What time is it?” I ask, floundering a little at the mussed up way his hay-blonde hair sticks up on his head, and how my body is still warm from evidentially cuddling up to him all night. Objectively, the man is good looking, and whilst I don’t dislike tattoos, I’ve never been drawn to a man who has them covering every inch of his skin right up to his jawline. There are even a couple of smaller ones tattooed onto his face.
Yeah, the type you go for are usually well dressed men, with dazzling smiles that hide the evil inside, a little voice inside my head goads. I ignore it.
“Around nine. Sleep okay?” Drix asks, rubbing the back of his neck, wincing a little.
“I’m guessing by the look on your face you didn’t?” I throw back, chewing on my lip. “I’m sorry if I…”
My voice trails off as his gaze drops, and I’m suddenly acutely aware of how tight my t-shirt is, and how I stupidly didn’t put a bra on last night. I guess I was too exhausted to think straight.
Drix quickly forces his gaze back upwards and my cheeks heat as I fold my arms across my chest, wishing I’d worn a jumper over the top. I don’t need to look down to know my nipples are pebbling against the material. Not because I’m turned on, but because since having Toby they’re permanently erect. A combination of breast feeding him for the first eighteen months of his life, and how my body has changed since having him.
