I slowly calm down. The anger I felt when I saw the gun is unlike anything I can describe. I’m barely containing it—even now. I want to pull the motherfucker up by his throat and choke the life out of him. I might have, if the police hadn’t chosen that moment to pull up. They slowly take over, asking the girls and me questions. I don’t answer, luckily Devil jumps in for me. I’ve barely taken my eyes off Hayden. She’s talking to the cops, but I see her look up at me, warily, every so often. I wish I knew what was going through her head. I wish I knew what to say to her.

Eventually everyone is cleared out with the exception of the girls, Devil and me. There’s a strained silence and Hayden and I are just staring at each other. I find myself rubbing along the side of my face, finding the largest scar and touching it, needing something to ground me.

“Well that was exciting. What’s your name, sweet thing?” Devil asks, breaking the silence. I look over at him and see he’s putting his moves on the girl he tackled to the floor.

“Jenn. Jenn Allen,” she says, and there’s the faintest color of red creeping up on her face. She’s flustered at his attention, but you’d have to be stupid not to see the spark of interest shining in her eyes.

“Well hey there Jenn Allen, they call me Devil.”

“Devil?” she asks, with a confused, nervous laugh.

“That’s right baby. Think you’d like to sin with me?” he laughs. If my eyes weren’t glued on Hayden, I’d be slapping him upside the head right now. I hear giggling and then he and Jenn walk into the other room. Hayden and I still don’t speak. Her other friend stands there for a minute. The air between all of us is awkward. I have a feeling that’s not getting better any time soon.

“Are you okay, Hay?” her friend asks. I can hear the protective note in her voice. It grates on my nerves—even if I understand it.

I watch as Hayden clears her throat. Then she tears her eyes away from me. “I’m fine, D.D. Can you give me a few minutes alone with Michael?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” she answers, but her face doesn’t look like she believes it. Hell, I’m not that sure I’ll be fine. I never planned on letting her know I was here. I wouldn’t have if there had been any other way. Hayden takes her hand and rubs her lower back. She’s done it a few times, even during the hold up. She’s overdoing it, and I know these concrete floors are too much for her. She should be at home with her feet up. Why Victor ever thought this bakery was a good idea is beyond me. He should have convinced her to stay home and relax until after the baby arrives.

“I guess I can go see what Jenn and uh…. the Devil are up to, then,” she mutters. I could tell her what they are probably doing, but I want her gone. I want her gone and yet at the same time I want her to stay. If she’s here, Hayden won’t talk about our past. If she’s here, I can just stare at Hayden a little longer before I leave. I rub that spot under my beard that I always do when I begin to feel anxious. I can’t take my eyes off of Hayden, even if I tried. I hear her friend’s shoes click against the concrete floors, but Hayden’s eyes are back on me and that requires all of my attention. A door squeaks and then her friend speaks again. “I’ll just be in the next room. If you need me, just call out,” she says. I grunt my displeasure, that woman is getting on my nerves.

“I’ll be fine,” Hayden replies. A few moments later I hear the door slam shut. It does nothing to help the tension in the room dissipate. It might actually increase. We stare at each other a little longer. It’s almost a standoff. Finally, Hayden lowers her face, rubbing the tension at the bridge of her nose. When she looks back up at me I can see pain there and I hate that I caused it. “Why are you here, Michael?”

“You need protection,” I respond, feeling so uncomfortable my skin tingles, the burns and nerve endings on my legs are even more annoying than normal.

“I didn’t mean now. Though I guess I should be thankful you came along at the exact right moment.”

“I didn’t,” I interrupt her, meaning I’ve been here all along, but I’m not telling her that.

“That’s okay I’m not thankful either,” she says and if I rub my beard any harder, I’ll rub the damn thing off. “It was you outside my home last night, wasn’t it?” she asks and maybe I should deny it—but, I don’t. I grunt in reply. For a second there’s a ghost of a smile on her face and then her beautiful gray eyes cloud with pain and the smile is gone. “Why were you there?” she asks, her voice quieter.

“Protecting you,” I answer again. Her face is covered with shock and then confusion. I can almost see the way her brain is sorting through the facts and how she arrives at her answer. I’m pretty sure she comes up with the right one when anger becomes the strongest emotion I get from her.

“I’ve been gone for two months, Michael. Is there some reason you felt the urge to track me down in Wyoming this week and begin protecting me, or do I have a full moon or something to curse as the reason?” she sighs coming from behind the counter. Hayden doesn’t get close to me, but she sits down not far from me. She looks tired. She puts her hands on top of the table, wringing them together in that nervous action she always had. My hand literally shakes with the need to wrap it around one of hers. Of all the things I’ve missed, the strongest of all of those might be just holding her hand. Ain’t that just another bucket of fuck? Christ. I don’t even know who I am anymore. “Michael?” she prompts and I growl, giving up rubbing the scar under my beard. Nothing is making this easier, none of this is calming me.

“I’ve been here since you moved out here, Hayden.”

I watch as her eyes dilate with that news as the truth sinks in. I expected screaming and yelling, but I forgot that somehow Hayden always surprises me. “Why?” she asks quietly.

This time it’s me who clears their throat and it has nothing to do with my injuries. This time it’s all nerves. “I made a promise to protect you and Maggie and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You made a promise…So Maggie and I are a responsibility to you?”

“A promise, and one I intend to keep.”

“Then I release you of that responsibility. Maggie and I don’t need you. We don’t want you in our lives anymore,” she responds and I’d be a motherfucking liar if I didn’t admit that cut me straight through. My chest hurts so bad I flinch.

“It doesn’t work that way. I’m here until Blade is found.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she cries, standing up agitated. “I have protection. Victor makes sure of that and I have Clive! I’m perfectly safe!”

“Today would argue that,” I mutter, feeling anger peek through the millions of other emotions Hayden makes me feel.

“You need to leave, Michael. I’ll ask Clive to start staying at the store. I’ll be fine. You need to go,” she orders. She’s standing now. She walks to the door, as if to point the way. I hate that she keeps bringing up Stroker. It’s like she’s waving a red flag at a bull—me being the bull. I’m sick of it.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Stroker or no Stroker,” I inform her. As I say the words, I walk over and stare her down. My words are a deep throaty growl, meant to intimidate. Hayden doesn’t even blink. She brings her hand back and slaps me across the face. It’s a good hit, one that connects and sends heat instantly through me. I grab her wrist not letting her take her hand away.

“Get out,” she cries, though her voice is quieter. Anger has made her face flush red and her eyes have tears gathered in them that stubbornly refuse to fall.

“No,” I tell her, moving my hand from her wrist and wrapping it around her palm and fingers, almost forcing her to hold my hand—even though our fingers don’t interlock. I don’t care. It’s still the closest I’ve felt to being alive in months.

I’m not going anywhere.