“I’m okay,” she whispered.
His eyes locked on hers, and she saw that he didn’t believe her.
He pushed himself onto one elbow. The sheet slid lower across his chest, revealing old scars and hard muscle. But tonight there was an element far more fragile underneath all that strength.
He looked as shaken as she felt.
“Bad dream?” he asked with gentleness that made her heart swell.
She swallowed hard and nodded.
In the moonlight, she saw his jaw flex and knew he was holding back strong words.
“I dreamed about the women he talked about.” Her whispered admission wavered.
He stroked his fingers soothingly over her cheek but didn’t interrupt.
“The names I gave the security team to look into… I never saw those women. I don’t know what they look like or where they lived…but I want justice for them.”
“We’ll see to it, honey. And the team and I will do everything in our power to see that he never sees freedom again.” He drew her against him, and she pressed her ear against his chest, hearing the thrum of his heart in a rhythm that steadied her.
But she couldn’t help but wonder if there were others Gary Crowe hadn’t named. How many women climbed into that truck thinking they’d eventually make it home? How many families still waited for daughters or sisters or friends who never returned?
Her stomach twisted, and she drew a steadying breath, concentrating on the slow motion of Vander’s hand moving up her spine.
She curled closer against him, soothed by his body heat and the feel of his skin. “I really thought I was never going to see home again,” she whispered into the dark.
Vander stilled.
“I thought about Ben the whole time.” Tears stung her eyes. “And my parents. How they’d feel if I didn’t come back.”
He slipped his fingers into her hair.
She stared into the darkness as old memories drifted to the surface. “When Ben was born, I called my parents crying because I didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted to go home so bad.” A weak laugh escaped her.
Vander remained silent.
“But they’d already sold the house and most of their stuff, bought the RV and started traveling.”
At twenty-two, exhausted and terrified with a newborn in her arms, it felt devastating—like her parents were leaving her to carry everything alone.
She swallowed against the pressure building in her throat. “They were always there for me, but at that moment, all I could think was…of course everyone leaves eventually.”
His hand fell still on her back. Then he shifted closer until their foreheads almost touched.
“Honey.” His voice was a low rumble. “That’s not what happened.”
Her chest felt too tight to draw enough air. “It felt like it.”
“I know.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her jaw. “But your parents didn’t leave you behind.”
She blinked at his observation.
“They only changed what home looked like.”
Stunned, she could only stare at him.
“You couldn’t pack up a newborn and visit them. You were busy with your job and schedules. They knew you wouldn’t have the money or the freedom to see them as often as all of you would like.”
