I was used to feeling heartbroken.

It was a feeling I had become familiar with many years ago.

A feeling that had followed me throughout my adult life.

I had lived with the feeling for so long that I thought I might actually miss it if I were to wake up some morning and not have that gaping, unifiable feeling in my stomach – in my heart.

What I was feeling now, though?

This was worse.

I was hurt.

Badly.

The knife Jordan had stabbed me through the chest with was causing me problems. It was making it hard to breathe.

I felt like a fool; giving him everything I had only to receive coldness in return.

Why should I allow him into every corner of my heart when he obviously wasn’t offering me the same in return?

His earlier words continued to swirl around in my mind over and over again. He was trying to hurt me with those comments.

I got that it was a defense mechanism. I understood.

But that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

He called me a hot-shot author and he'd said it in such a way that it was supposed to be an insult.

Call me crazy, but that hurt worse than everything else. My being an author was something I was proud of. I had accomplished that career without help from my father or him. It was all mine and I hated that he had sullied that for me.

I knew where I was going.

Home.

Realistically, I knew this wasn’t a huge deal.

Teagan and Noah fought like that all the time. I couldn’t count the number of plates that had been smashed off the kitchen walls by one or the other of them during their fights.

But I wasn’t Teagan.

I was Hope.

And I didn’t roll like that.

I wasn’t a violent person and I didn’t want to be in a relationship that produced toxic behavior. He smashed the freaking television set. He threw it at the wall right by me. It had been this freaking close to my face.

That wasn’t normal.

Maybe it wouldn’t bother other women, but it certainly bothered me.

I wasn’t into that. Not in the slightest.

Call me old fashioned, but I preferred to use words to deal with my problems.

I knew he was upset and he had every right to be, but if I had stayed, then it would have given the reaction that I condoned that type of physical violence.

I didn’t and would have no part in it.

When I arrived at my parent's house, I had every intention of giving my mother a piece of my mind.

Why did she have to do that?

Why?

I wasn’t stupid, far from it, and had quickly come to the conclusion that the reason Jordan had been freezing me out was because he didn’t trust me anymore.

I had broken that tiny piece of faith he had put in me. I felt horrible over it, but not enough to stay in a house where television sets were thrown against the walls and ugly words were used in anger.

I parked my truck in its usual spot and stomped up the porch steps towards the house. When I let myself inside, I headed straight for the kitchen.

When I rounded the doorway, the last person I had expected to greet me was Hunter Casarazzi.

But there he was, with his ass perched on my mother's kitchen table, shirtless and entertaining my little brothers.

Whatever he was saying must have been funny because Cash and Casey were laughing uncontrollably.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, gaping at the sight before me. "Where are my parents?"

Hunter swung his gaze around to face me and smiled an honest to god, carnal looking smile. "Morning, HC," he purred before shoving a mouthful of dry cereal into his mouth.

I rolled my eyes at the sight.

The man had an obsession with dry cereal. He always ate it straight from the box without a bowl or milk and spoon.

Come to think of it, Hunter did everything differently. I could never predict his next move or what would come out of his mouth next.

"Hungry?" he asked, shaking the box of Cheerios towards me.

I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. "Care to explain why you're sitting on my mother's kitchen table half naked?"

He raised a brow and smirked. "Would you prefer I be fully naked?"

"Don’t start," I warned, not in the mood for his bullshit flirting right now. I was too damn mad. At Jordan. At my mother. At myself! "Just tell me, what are you doing here?"

"I'm babysitting," Hunter replied in a casual tone.

"You're babysitting?" My brows furrowed and I gaped at him. "You?"

Hunter raised a brow. "And what's wrong with me?"

"You just don’t look like the babysitting type of guy," I muttered, blushing deeply.

"There's a lot you don’t know about me, HC," Hunter shot back with a flirty wink. "I happen to be a great babysitter. Isn't that right, boys?"

"Yeah," my little brothers hooted in unison. "We love Lucky."

"Cute," I bit out, feeling a little taken aback by all of this. "So, my father trusted you to babysit them?"

"Why wouldn’t he?" Hunter countered evenly. "I take care of my responsibilities, sweetheart. Your father knows as much."

Dammit, that was true.

Hunter did take care of his responsibilities and my father seemed to respect him – had from the moment he walked into our lives with Noah.

Dad had always treated Hunter like a man.

Like he wasn’t the same age as his children.

Maybe it was because of the way he had stepped in and taken care of his brother when they were in prison.

Or maybe not.

I didn’t get it, but then again, I never truly understood what my father was thinking.

Mom was like an open book. She wore her heart on her sleeve and was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside, but Dad?

Dad was a deep one.

He was hard to make out.

Or maybe my father respected Hunter because he had something very dark in common with him.

They could butter it up and throw technicalities around the place, use money to bury the truth, but it was a well-known family secret that my father had killed Jimmy Bennett twenty-five years ago. And he had done so in a blind fit of rage to avenge my mother.

It was also pretty well known around here that there was no level my father would stoop to or no mountain he wouldn’t climb to keep her safe.

My mother was walking and breathing because of my father's actions all those years ago, and he had survived the un-survivable – a knife to the throat – not only because he was a stubborn bastard, but because he was incapable of leaving her behind.

The love they shared for each other?

It was an insane, delirious, once in a lifetime kind of love and the reason I wrote romance.

Hell, I didn’t have a whole lot of experience in the love department, but my parents?

They humbled me.

The sound of my little brothers laughing and joking with Hunter brought me back to reality and I balked. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Mom and Dad had to go out of town for the weekend," Casey informed me with a small smile.

"And they left Lucky in charge," Cash snickered, clearly delighted with our parents' choice of babysitter.

For the whole weekend? "And they left Lucky in charge?" I repeated, dumbfounded. "Why didn’t they ask me?"

"Because he's badass and way more fun than you?" Cash offered sarcastically, rendering a frown from me and a high-five from Hunter. "And he lets us eat cereal for dinner."

"How would you like to get grounded all weekend, Cash Carter?" I shot back, glaring at the cheeky little fucker. "Because that's where this conversation is leading."

"Oh, please," he countered with a wave of his little hand. "You have no power over me. Dad left the reins to Lucky." Smirking, he added, "And Lucky loves me. He would never ground me, right, Luck?"

"I wouldn’t be so sure about that," Casey, ever the wise one, interjected.

"Oh?" Cash turned his glare on his twin brother. "And why is that?"

"Because he loves Hope the most," Casey replied, and his words caused my heart to jackknife in my chest. I looked at Hunter for some sort of divine intervention, but all he did was wink back at me. He was laughing at my brothers and thoroughly enjoying the conversation unfolding between them. "It's so obvious," Casey continued, scooping up a spoonful of cereal. "Right, Luck?" he asked, looking up at him with his big blue eyes.

I watched as Hunter tried to smother his laughter before saying, "I love all of you guys."

"See," Cash scoffed. "He loves all of us, Case."

"Whatever," Casey muttered with a shake of his head. "I still say he loves her most."

"That's gross, Case," Cash grumbled. "Lucky doesn’t love girls. He's cool."

"They smooched," Casey shot back. "I saw them."

"We did not smooch!" I blurted out, red-faced and mortified.

"Smooched," Hunter snorted.

"You're not helping," I hissed.

"Smooched," he repeated, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"You did too smooch," Casey countered calmly. "I saw you."

"When?" I gaped in horror at my baby brother. "When did you ever see me and Lucky smooch?"

"At Mom and Dad's Halloween party last year," Casey replied innocently. He turned his attention to Cash and said, "He was in her bedroom, and you know what Colton said?"

Cash paled and nodded grimly. "Girls invite you in their room when they want to smooch." He looked at Hunter with an expression of disgust. "You kissed my sister? That's fucking gross, dude."

"Watch your language, Cash Carter," I hissed, flustered, as I desperately tried to plot my way out of this one.

"I've got this," Hunter interjected, saving me. "Boys, did Colton ever explain to you that boys and girls can be friends without – dear god, I can't believe I'm saying this – smooching?"

Both Cash and Casey looked at Hunter like he was talking a foreign language. "No," they said in unison, shaking their identical little heads.

"Of course, he didn’t," Hunter muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. "Do you have a best friend at school?" he asked then. "A friend you like spending time with? Someone who makes you happy and you want to be around all the time?"

Both boys nodded.

"Well, your sister is my best friend," Hunter explained, and again, my heart jackknifed in my chest. "And I was in her room that night because we like to hang out together." He looked over at me and smiled. "She makes me happy."

Casey nodded, seemingly mollified by Hunter's explanation, but Cash continued to gape in horror. "But she's so boring," he stated. "And a girl!"

"Boys and girls can be friends, too, Cash," I heard myself say, jumping on the friendship bandwagon. It was so much easier to explain away. "Girls can make great friends, too, you know."

"Ugh," Cash muttered with a shake of his head. "Rather you than me."

"Come and say that to me in about eight years, kid," Hunter said with a grin before hopping down from the table.

He walked over to where I was standing and inclined his head towards the door.

Wordlessly, I followed him outside.

"Your father called me late last night," Hunter announced in a low and oddly serious tone when I joined him on the porch. "Your grandfather's sick and his attorney applied for a probation hearing based on compassionate terms."

"Compassionate terms?" I gaped. "David Henderson doesn’t have a compassionate bone in his body."

"For what it's worth, I agree with you," Hunter replied. "But apparently, the man's dying with cancer and the court approved his application for early probation." Shrugging, he added, "Your Mom and Dad have gone up there to fight it. Derek went with them."

Pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, Hunter lit up a cigarette and took a drag before saying, "They didn’t want to worry you or your brothers with this, so they called me to come and stay with the boys." He exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "Your uncle's flying in from England to support your father's objection to the appeal."

I gaped. "Uncle Mike is coming home for this?"

He nodded.

"What about Noah?" I asked. "He's David's son, too."

Illegitimate, but still.

"Noah doesn’t know anything about it," Hunter said. "Your father wants him protected from this just as much as you guys."

"Oh god, this is bad, Hunter," I muttered, pressing my fingers to my temples as I tried to comprehend what I had just learned. "My grandfather is a very bad man."

I didn’t remember the last time I'd seen my biological grandfather, Dad had kept him away from us when we were little, but I knew all about the day he and Noah's mother, Kelsie Mayfield, kidnapped me from my crib and held me ransom.

Even thinking about it caused me to shiver violently.

My father had given up everything that day to keep me safe and protect my mother. He had signed over the hotels and his money… everything!

The boys might not remember the struggles and poverty of our youth, but I did.

I remembered it all.

How hard Dad worked, juggling a dozen jobs a day just to keep a roof over our heads, and it had been all David Henderson's fault.

I remembered the midnight hushed conversations between my parents, and the countless nights my father sat at our kitchen table and worried himself to death about the overflowing pile of bills he couldn’t keep up with.

As a child, I remembered looking at my dad and thinking he was the one who hung the moon. This big, strong, invincible giant of a man who could keep me safe from everything.

It was only in the dark of the night, when I crept out of bed to listen at my parents' bedroom door, that I would realize my father was human. The sound of him crying in my mother's arms had stuck with me for many years. Or when my brother got sick, and we didn’t have the money for his wheelchair.

That was all on David fucking Henderson.

My dad worked so hard to win back everything that had been stolen from him.

I was just shy of thirteen years old when my grandfather was finally sent to prison for the crimes he had committed against my family. I had always assumed he would die in there.

Evidently not.

Shaking my head, I staggered a little, feeling completely overwhelmed. "If that man is released, he's going to come looking for us." Anxiety churned inside of me as reality hit me like a wrecking ball. "He's going to try and seek revenge against my father."

"Let him try," Hunter shot back. "He won't get far."

"You don’t understand," I urged, trembling now. "You think JD Dennis was bad? My grandfather is twice as smart and ten times more ruthless."

"Hope –"

"I'm serious," I choked out. "If they let him out…" I flinched, unable to cope with the fear growing inside of me. "He's a cancer on our family, and he won't stop until he destroys everything my father has!"

Everything bad that had ever happened to my parents had been at the hands or the orders of that man.

My mother had been shot because of him.

My father, stabbed.

My aunt Camryn was in the ground because of him.

Because he'd twisted and manipulated Rachel Grayson into a weapon of mass freaking destruction…

I either hadn't realized Hunter had moved, or I had been too consumed in my thoughts to notice, but when his arms came around my body, I felt myself sag against him.

The strength of his arms comforted me.

Having him close, and knowing just how capable he was of keeping me safe, settled the anxiety in my heart.

He was bare chested, with a cigarette poking out of his mouth, and all I wanted to do was cling to his strength and have him never let me go.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," he whispered. "The boys aren’t the only ones your father asked me to keep an eye on."

"What are you saying? He asked you to babysit me, too?"

"He asked me to keep you safe," he corrected, tone soothing, as he held me tight. "And I told him I would. With my life."

I believed him.

Every word.

It was more than just believing him; I trusted him.

With everything I had.

I didn’t need to ask him to promise, because it wouldn’t matter.

He had made it very clear that I was important to him, and in this crazy and unpredictable world, it was comforting to know I was in the arms of a man who was strong and brave and equally as wild as the shit that was thrown at us.

It was when I was wrapped up in his arms that I realized why my father entrusted his youngest sons into Hunter's care.

He was a solider.

An unlikely one, but a solider nevertheless.

"I need to call my parents," I announced, breaking away from the hug I had been enjoying far too much for my own good. "I need to find out what's happening."

"Okay," he replied calmly. "Do you want to come back inside to do it?"

Yes! "No, you've got everything under control here." Shaking my head, I took a safe step away from him and forced a smile. "I'm going to go. If you need help with the boys, you know my number." Having said that, I swung around and hurried down the porch steps towards my truck.

I needed to get away from here.

Away from Thirteenth Street.

"HC?" Hunter called out when I reached my truck.

Reluctantly, I swung around to face him. "Yeah?"

He was frowning at me, like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite work out. "It's going to be okay, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, forcing a smile. "No judge in their right mind would let that man into the world again." I didn’t believe it, though. He was smart and cunning and manipulative enough to sway even the most righteous of men.

"True," Hunter agreed, brows still furrowed. "But I wasn’t talking about him." He flicked his cigarette away and rested his hands on his hips, his beautiful face still etched with concern. "I've got your back. In everything."

"Thanks," I whispered, swallowing down the huge lump that was forming in my throat. "I appreciate it."

* * *

Jordan

"I don’t how you can trust me to be around him," I muttered, several hours later, as I bounced Ryder on my knee. "I'm a train wreck waiting to happen."

That was the understatement of the century.

Our trashed living room was a prime example of how erratic I could be.

If it weren't for Annabelle returning when she had, the chances of the rest of the house remaining unscathed were low.

"What you are," Annabelle countered heatedly. "Is a good man." She leaned across the table and covered my hand with hers. "I see you, Jordan Porter," she added, blue eyes locked on my face. "I see the compassionate, decent, wonderful person you bury deep down inside." She released my hand and leaned back in her chair. "And so does he." She inclined her head to where Ryder was grinning up at me. The sight of him, so innocent and perfect, caused the ice around my heart to melt.

I loved that baby from the minute he came into the world and the doctor's placed him in my arms. I'd made a vow to him that day; a vow to protect him from all of the horrible shit in life that I hadn't been protected from. I made a vow to his mother, too. A vow to always be there for them both.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be sitting in this kitchen tonight if it hadn't been for Annabelle Walker; my therapist turned best friend. She'd been saving my life from the day she walked into it. And even today, when I had fucked up beyond repair, she waded in and helped me make sense of things. She made me see things clearly. I wasn’t able to do that on my own sometimes. I got lost in my head a lot. She was always the one to draw me back out, and guide me back to reality.

"Do you know what you're going to say to her?" Annabelle asked.

I shook my head, at a loss. "Figured I'll start with sorry and go from there."

"Sorry is a good a place as any to start," she replied with a smile. "And flowers. They're good, too."

"I'm so damn mad at her," I admitted, locking eyes with her. "I trusted her and she went running with my secrets." I shook my head and released a shaky breath. "Makes it impossible for me –"

"To trust her again?"

"Yeah." I exhaled heavily. "Impossible to trust her again and thankful I didn't trust her enough to tell her …" I broke off, unable to put into words what Annabelle already knew.

"Jay," she sighed. "Hope's young and green. She didn’t mean to hurt you. She probably didn’t even realize how badly you would take it. You've said it yourself, she's led a sheltered life. But she loves you. She's here and she's trying, and she really does love you."

"I didn’t want her family knowing," I bit out. "I don’t want to see that look in their eyes every goddamn time I see them." That's what would happen now. I was sure of it. That's what always happened.

"I guess you have a choice to make," Annabelle said after a long pause. "Try and move past this with your wife, or go back ten steps and continue to live your life in the shadows."

"You know I want to be with her," I choked out. "More than anything."

"Then be with her, Jord," Annie shot back, tone thick with emotion. "Just be with her!"

"Just like that, huh?" I whispered, then shook my head. "You know it's not that easy for me."

"I do know it's not easy for you," she agreed. "But guess what? Hope knows that, too. And she's still willing to fight for you. So, the question is, are you willing, Jordan? Are you willing to fight for her?"