A hero I’d never expected.
He made a few turns, quickly but safely driving through the city, eyes darting around to take in our surroundings. He continually glanced in the rear-view mirror to check on my children, the girls fast asleep and Thomas sitting there stoic, the way that he did.
Knowing more than I wished he had to.
So brave when the only thing I wanted was for him to get to live his childhood without these overbearing cares and worries.
Ian reached over the console and took my hand.
He squeezed it.
Warmth.
Care.
A quiet hum of need.
Ten minutes later, we broke out of the city. The buildings had grown sparse and the marshlands grew thick as we hit a two-lane road. Random houses surrounded by trees were lit up by porch lights where they were tucked off the country road, the yellow, dotted stripe down the middle of the secluded road our guide as we raced through the night.
I didn’t ask him where we were going.
I trusted him. Trusted him more than I’d ever trusted anyone.
Ian began to slow as we came into a small town, a big painted sign boasting a population of twenty-three hundred that welcomed us to Broadshire Rim.
I’d heard of it, but it was an area I had never visited.
Ian kept our speed slow as we drove through the quaint town. It felt as if we’d been taken back a century. Storefronts lined the main road, different colored awnings stretched out over the sidewalks with parking spaces angled in front.
He squeezed my hand as if he felt all of my questions. “Almost there.”
We took a right and then another onto a dirt road.
The car bounced along the uneven road, the headlights cutting into the night, illuminating another big painted sign on the left.
Broadshire Blooms Bed and Breakfast.
Ian slowed and made a left onto the narrow, tree-lined lane. On either side, mammoth oaks reached for the sky, their old branches stretching out to create a canopy of welcome overhead.
The car rounded a slight curve and a three-story plantation came into view.
Clearly restored and just as striking as it had to have been back in its original day.
It had two stories of wrap-around porches and massive pillars holding them high, the third-story roof arched in three different areas, like three mountain peaks jutting for the speckled, shimmering sky.
It had to be the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.
Coming to a stop in the rounded drive, Ian stared over at me, emphatic as he said, “You’ll be safe here. These are the best people you’ll ever meet.”
I looked back at the house as one side of the double doors opened. A man who looked so much like Ian stepped out onto the porch. A beautiful, dark-haired woman with a newborn cradled in her arms followed him.
Love and support shone fast in their eyes. Care and concern that flooded through the night.
And I wondered if Ian knew he was a part of that equation.
Because some people came into our lives because they were meant to be.
I squeezed his fingers.
And I knew Ian was always supposed to be a part of mine.
Thirty-One
Ian
I cranked open the door and slipped from my car.
My brother barely lifted his chin at me in a gesture so slight that only I would notice it. His promise that he would always be there for me, no matter what I needed.
Even if it meant dragging his ass out of bed in the middle of the night.
Suffice it to say, he’d thought I was drunk and playing some sort of sick prank when I’d called him on the way to Grace’s and told him to get ready for us.
Three kids in tow.
Not exactly my style.
“Jace,” I said, voice grit, filled with nothing but stark gratitude and the quiet fury I felt at finding Lawrence with Reed. Hating not knowing what was going down, but not fool enough not to realize whatever it was, it was bad.
Lawrence would strike someone down in a blink.
In a flash.
In the second it took to cock a gun.
Two of them together equaled the type of depravity I didn’t want to contemplate.
Jace tried to keep his footsteps light as he bounded down the porch steps. “Ian.”
I rounded the front of my car, and he came right for me, pulling me into a tight hug. He clapped me on the back and muttered at my ear, “You’ve got some explaining to do, brother.”
Obviously.
“Let’s get them settled. Then we can talk.”
Nodding, he stepped back.
Faith, Jace’s wife, slowly came down the stairs, protecting her youngest child against her chest, my sweet niece Bailey Button undoubtedly sleeping and not having the first clue about the inn’s newest guests.
Faith pressed up on her toes to plant a kiss on my cheek. “We’re so glad you came to us.”
I almost laughed. “Don’t thank me yet.”
Who knew what kind of shitstorm I might be dragging into their home.