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He reached up hesitantly, his fingers brushing my cheek. "I love you too," he whispered. "Not just because you rescued me or protect me. But because...you see me. All of me. And you still want me."
I turned my face to press a kiss against his palm. "Always will."
Something shifted in his expression then, a softness returning to his features that had been missing since his rescue. "Daddy," he said, the word tentative but deliberate, "can I have Patches?"
Relief flooded through me at this small but significant step. "Of course you can, little one." I reached down to where the stuffed dog had been abandoned on the floor and handed him to Matty, who clutched him to his chest with both arms.
"Sorry I dropped you," he whispered to the stuffie, then looked up at me with the ghost of a smile. "He was worried."
"I bet he was," I agreed. "He missed you very much."We both did.
Matty settled more comfortably against me, his body gradually relaxing as the tension he'd been carrying began to ease. "Can you tell us a story?" he asked softly. "Something with a happy ending?"
"I think I can manage that," I said, adjusting our position so his back wouldn't be strained. "Once upon a time, there was a very brave little boy who lived in a big, scary world..."
By the time I reached the part where the hero found his way back to the people who loved him, Matty's eyes had drifted shut, his grip on Patches relaxing slightly as sleep claimed him.
I continued the story anyway, my voice soft in the quiet cabin, promising safety and happy endings and a future where no monsters could reach him. When I finally fell silent, I just watched him sleep, grateful for each peaceful breath, each tiny movement that proved he was here, alive, with me.
A text from Jono vibrated in my pocket. I carefully shifted to check it without disturbing Matty.
DA confirmed Coombes is facing multiple charges. Financial crimes, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, attempted murder. Apparently—and get this—it was Degrassi. His lawyer was instructed to release everything if he died, and they’ve got enough evidence to send him away for life.
I frowned, wondering how Degrassi had that kind of access. Before I could respond, another text came through.
Bolt says Degrassi must have been gathering dirt on Coombes for years. Smart bastard.
A cold satisfaction settled in my chest.
How long will he be away?I texted back.
With the charges they have? 20+ years minimum. He's not getting out, Bear.
Relief washed through me. Matty was truly safe now. We both were.
I set my phone aside and carefully adjusted our position, settling in for what would likely be a long nap. Matty needed the rest, and I needed to hold him, to reassure myself that he was really here.
As I drifted toward sleep myself, I made silent promises to the man in my arms. To protect him always. To love all sides of him. To build a life together where he never had to be afraid again.
And as if he could hear my thoughts, Matty snuggled closer, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth even in sleep.
Chapter twenty-one
Matty
"Are you sure, Daddy?"I asked, eyeing the clothes Daddy had laid out for me. The brightly colored dinosaur shirt and comfy shorts felt like a public declaration I wasn't ready to make.
Three days had passed since my rescue. Three days of barely leaving our cabin, of jumping at shadows and unexpected noises. Three days of slowly, carefully letting myself slip back into my Little headspace—but only behind locked doors, only with Daddy.
"Only if you want to, little one," Daddy replied, his voice gentle as he sat beside me on the bed. "No one will judge you either way."
I ran my fingers over the soft fabric of the shirt, tracing the cartoon stegosaurus. "But what if they do? Sophie already made fun of me once."
"Sophie has left town to go stay with her sister and won't be coming back," Daddy said firmly. "And anyone who has a problem with my baby boy will answer to me."
The protectiveness in his voice made something warm unfurl in my chest, but anxiety still churned in my stomach. The club was throwing a "celebration barbecue"—ostensibly to mark Harold's arrest, but really, I knew, to coax me out of hiding.
"I don't know if I can," I admitted, my voice small. "What if I panic? What if I can't breathe again?"