That didn’t surprise me in the least. Stratton had been self-isolated for a very long time, and he had no doubt been thinking about Dahlia for most of it. While we hadn’t understood why he had disappeared, none of us had ever assumed that he was no longer into Dahlia—that made no sense with the way he protected her at school and caused a problem with anyone that tried to give her a hard time or talk shit.
“Let me see,” Lincoln demanded.
I looked over his shoulder when he grabbed the phone and couldn’t help but smile at the picture of the vintage-style ring. Even Yates, the self-proclaimed ring expert, approved.
Stratton’s voice was rough with emotion. “I’m not saying this is the one, but I think we could have one very similarly made, and it could be cool to personalize it.”
“I have someone I could call,” King murmured, taking out his phone.
“I’m one hundred percent unsurprised you have a jeweler on speed dial.” I shook my head.
King shrugged. “My dad uses him all the time.”
When he walked away, I looked back towards Dahlia. Her lips were tilted slightly in sleep, making me wonder what exactly she was dreaming about. I wish there was a way to crawl inside her head, experience what was making her happy, after so much. After she had been put through so damn much.
Overwhelming emotion slammed into me all at once as I considered how the hell we were supposed to protect her.
I thought Stratton’s idea was completely viable. Having a family-run and in-house security business would give us control over who we hired, but more than that, it would ensure that we always had the best of the best. A small moment of panic hit me, realizing that it wouldn’t just be Dahlia we needed to protect—no, it would be everyone, including our own children. I shook my head, and as if Stratton heard my thoughts, he brought up her safety.
“She has class tomorrow. Photography,” he pointed out.
Yates answered, “She may want to go to that. She didn’t seem interested in her other classes, but she will most likely want to go to that and test out the semester.”
It had surprised me that Dahlia had wanted to go to school, to be honest. Not because of her intelligence, either—Dahlia was extremely smart. No, it was more that I knew what she really wanted, what she had always wanted, and it had nothing to do with school. I would go along with whatever Dahlia decided as long as she was happy. Her happiness was essential to me.
“Someone will have to go with her,” Yates murmured. “We are supposed to be handling something with this Dixon asshole…” He paused and shook his head. “As well as figuring out who the hell put a hit on our girl’s head.”
The fury that whipped through me at that concept was unstoppable, and I had to take a deep breath before going back to drawing, not wanting to think about what I’d do if I found the motherfucker who thought that had been a good idea.
“I’ll go with her.” Dermot’s accented voice had me looking up to where he was getting up, looking oddly alert. I had a feeling he didn’t sleep very often, and I watched as he tucked the blanket back around her. I eyed the newly vacant spot next to her, trying to decide if I wanted to continue to draw or pull her into my arms.
“You don’t want to go to the meeting?” Lincoln frowned.
“It’s not that.” Dermot shook his head. “I need to be there with her the first time she leaves to go somewhere public or else I’ll lose my shit.”
I nodded. “I get that. Honestly, I hate the idea of her leaving Wildberry right now.”
“I also don’t want her to live in fear,” my brother admitted.
“She’s going to probably get embarrassed, but let’s throw as much security as possible on her tomorrow,” Dermot suggested.
“I have a feeling she won’t be as embarrassed as you would think,” Stratton said. “Plus, tomorrow her personal bodyguard arrives—and yes, she’s female.”
I chuckled as all of them relaxed. Honestly, it was amusing that they even considered that Stratton and King would find someone male to be her bodyguard. Although, if it meant her not getting hurt, I was pretty much willing to do anything.
“We need to get a doctor here to look at her,” Lincoln said, nearly reading my mind.
“Is she in pain?” Stratton demanded, looking panicked at the idea of not realizing that her state of being was anything but perfect..
My brother shrugged. “Hasn’t said so, but I want her ribs checked. I have a feeling that the bruising was less than we initially assumed, but I still want them checked to make sure.”
“I also want them to check that she’s not dehydrated or anything like that,” Yates pointed out quietly.
“She’s been eating and drinking,” I told him.
“We would be stupid to think a few meals are going to fix months of this,” Stratton said, presenting us with the raw truth.
I grunted and looked back down at my notebook. I mean…he wasn’t wrong. I just didn’t like it.