There was nothing left to do.

Maddox stood in the doorway of the living room, watching Ava and Hannah sleep. It was almost four in the morning, and he was tired as hell, but so on edge he couldn't sit still. He'd tried to fix the generator, but it was too dark to see what he was doing. He'd started to bring stuff in from Hannah's trailer, but the bitter wind knifing through the barely-heated living room when he'd opened the door to go outside had shot that idea. He'd unpacked their kitchen. He'd hung blankets on the doorways. He'd found extra blankets for the couch for him to sleep on.

There was literally nothing left to do. There was no other room to be in, except that living room, where Ava and Hannah were tucked up beside each other under the blankets he'd heaped on them while they were sleeping.

He was restless.

Impatient.

Uncomfortable.

He was trapped in a house with two vulnerable females, against every rule that he'd lived by for years. He didn't want to be here...but at the same time, he wanted to be here so badly that he could barely handle it.

He hadn't thought that he'd wanted this. He'd walked away from any dreams like this a long time ago. He'd given them all up when he was seventeen, when he'd walked away from the girl he'd loved and all his dreams of this kind of moment. He'd forgotten how badly he had once wanted it.

Until now.

Until he was standing beside the wood stove watching Hannah and Ava sleep, while the wind howled outside and battered the house. Hannah's cheeks were flushed, and there was sweat beading on her forehead. He knew she was sick, and he didn't like it. He knew Ava wouldn't talk, and that concerned him. He knew they were in for at least five days of brutal weather, cut off from civilization, without electricity, and he didn't like that either.

He wanted both of them to be glowing, happy, and safe. For his whole life, he had believed that the key to any woman's happiness was to be as far away from him as possible. And yet, given this particular situation, he knew that his presence was necessary for their safety.

He didn't know what he thought of that. He didn't like it, for their sake, but at the same time, to feel like he was necessary for the well-being of Hannah and Ava made him feel like something beautiful was beaming down on him for the first time in his life.

Walking away from them in this moment would not be honorable, so he didn't have to do it. He could sit there, on their couch, breathing in the wholeness of who they were, and he didn't have to feel guilty that he was stealing life and hope from them. For five days, he had the gift of being able to live in their world without feeling like an asshole for taking up space in it.

He realized suddenly that this blizzard was a gift, a gift that would sustain him when he walked out the door and returned to his life of chasing down scumbags who wanted to put a bullet between his eyes.

Weariness settled on his shoulders, and he knew it was time to crash. For a brief second, he considered taking the moral road and sleeping in Ava's room to give them privacy. Then he looked at the old wood stove, and he knew that he would never leave them sleeping alone in a room where a fire was raging.

A deep sense of satisfaction settled over him, and he couldn't help the small smile that played at the corner of his mouth as he added a couple logs to the wood stove. He then crouched beside the makeshift bed, and laid his hand on Hannah's forehead. He frowned when he felt how hot it was, burning his palm. He checked Ava's forehead, but hers was cool and dry.

Something shifted inside him, something deep in his chest as he looked down at the two sleeping females. They were relaxed, utterly trusting that they were safe. They were in his hands for safekeeping, and he fisted his hands as he stood up, his shoulders tensing as he walked around the mattress to the couch.

He sat down, rested his elbows on his knees, and pressed his face to his palms. Son of a bitch. How the hell was he going to do this for five days? He didn't know how to take care of people. Shit.

With a low groan, he leaned back on the couch, and stretched his legs out. His feet hung over the arm, but he didn't care. He just grabbed a blanket, pulled it over him, and clasped his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, listening to their breathing.

He hadn't gone to sleep in a room with someone else present in a long time. It should feel weird, an invasion of his privacy, a threat to the sanctity of his world. But he liked it. He liked listening to the two different patterns of breathing, to the sounds of the sheets rustling when one of them moved.

He let his eyes fall shut, not planning to sleep, but so that he could better focus on their sounds, and on the feeling of deep peace that settled in him as he listened to them. He felt the muscles in his body begin to release, relaxing in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. His body felt heavy as it sank into the cushions. His shoulders relaxed, and his lungs expanded in a deep, slow breath that seemed to fill his whole body with the oxygen it was starved for.

His breathing became even slower and deeper, matching the rhythm of Hannah's breathing. Not intentionally, but because his body was reaching out for her, wanting to connect to the beautiful energy that she generated so completely.

He knew she was exhausted. She was sick because she had pushed herself too far. He wanted to know her story. He wanted to know Ava's story. He wanted to know how the two of them had wound up in a dilapidated rental in Rogue Valley, Wyoming with the rental trailer. Hannah's SUV wasn't cheap, so it wasn't because she was broke. So, why were they there? He wanted to know what happened to them, and he wanted to chase away the shadows that were in both their eyes. He wanted to bring light and happiness back into their world.

He had no idea how to do it, because he didn't even know what light or happiness was anymore. But he had five days, and he knew that was what he wanted to do.

He took a deep breath again, letting himself drift lightly off to sleep, dozing ever so slightly, not to sleep, but to restore himself so he could be there for them when they woke up.

As much as he despised the scumbags that he brought in on his runs as a bounty hunter, he always felt like he was doing some kind of good in the world by making sure the dregs of society didn't run around free, like his dad had too many times.

But as Maddox lay there, listening to the wind hammer the dilapidated house, breathing in the fullness of Hannah and Ava's presence, he realized that now was his actual opportunity to make a difference in the world. A real difference. A beautiful difference.

Unfortunately, he knew he'd find a way to fuck it up.

Because he wasn't the good guy.

He was his father's son.

He knew what his destiny was, and it didn't include this.

But hell, he wanted to break that cycle. For once in his life, for five days, he wanted to break that damned cycle.

* * *

The quick movement of the blankets awoke Maddox from a sound sleep. He sat up quickly, his gaze going straight to the mattress. The faint morning sun that had made it through the blizzard gave him enough light to see Ava sitting up, an alarmed look on her face as she looked around, one hand on Hannah's shoulder, as if she was trying to wake her up.

"Ava." Maddox sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor.

Ava spun around, her eyes wide as they settled on him.

"It's okay, baby," he said gently. "Your mom has a little cold. She's sleeping. She's fine."

Ava stared at him, as if waiting for more, her blue eyes riveted on him.

He recalled then that she'd been asleep when they'd moved her to the living room. "We lost power in the storm. That means that we don't have heat or electricity, until I can fix the generator this morning. We moved the mattress in here where the wood stove is, to keep everyone warm."

The wind rattled the shutters on the front of the house, and Ava jumped, her gaze snapping to the window that was rattling. Maddox could feel the fear emanating from her, and he swore under his breath. "I was going to get some breakfast. Hungry?" Food had always been a good distraction for him as a kid. He had no idea if it would work for Ava as well, but it was all he could think of. His experience with kids was limited. More than limited. Pretty much nonexistent, except for his occasional interactions with his brothers' kids.

Ava stared at him for a long moment, and then she slowly nodded.

"Great." He stood up. "You want to wait in here, and I'll bring out something? Or do you want to come in with me? It'll be pretty cold in there, so you'll need to wrap up in a blanket." He truly expected Ava to want to stay in bed next to Hannah, but she untangled herself from the bedding, and rose to her feet. She pulled a pink and white polka dot blanket around her, and held up her arms to him.

The expression on her face was so trusting, that Maddox suddenly couldn't breathe. He just went still, staring down at the little girl holding her arms up to him, as if she truly believed there was no place safer for her than in his arms.

Memories of his past raced through him, memories of a childhood hell that he'd endured, of all the lessons he'd learned about how brutal life could be. About how the only thing that ever came from reaching out to a parent was pain, the kind of pain that ate away until there was nothing left but a shell of humanity.

And yet there was Ava, holding out her arms to him, still believing in safety and goodness.

Of anyone she could have chosen to trust, the last person she should've selected was him, and yet in this moment, especially with Hannah so sick, he was literally the only one Ava had to lean on.

Resolution flooded him, a grim determination to somehow find a way to be the solid core this taciturn little girl needed. He walked over to her and crouched down. She immediately slid her arms around his neck and he picked her up, settling her against his hip. She was so light, like a feather that could get caught up in a breeze and swept away forever. His arm tightened protectively around her as he leaned forward to rest his hand on Hannah's forehead.

Her skin was hot, still burning, with sweat beading on her brow. Her eyes flickered open, fuzzy and glazed as she looked at him.

"Ava and I are going to get some breakfast," he said gently. "I've got everything taken care of. You just go back to sleep."

She nodded, mumbled something incoherent, and rolled over, closing her eyes again. His fingers drifted over her hair, noting the dampness from the fever-induced sweat. Ava's arms tightened around his neck, and he glanced down at her. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared at Hannah, a look of such stark anxiety on her face that his heart, his long dead heart, turned over.

"Ava. Look at me."

The little girl dragged her eyes off Hannah, and stared at him, her face inches from his, her arms so tight around his neck, as if she was afraid she would get ripped out of his arms.

"Your mom is tired because she's fighting germs. It's just a cold. She will be fine, and running around the house, bossing you around in another day or two. Do you understand? She will be fine."

Ava just continued to stare at him, fear so vivid in her little face. That fear got to him, because he had seen that same kind of fear in the eyes of every single one of his brothers when they were kids, because they'd all grown up under the brutal hand of their bastard father. The expression on Ava's face was just like the ones he'd seen on his brothers' faces, and suddenly he understood. Ava had seen violence, the same kind of violence that he'd grown up with, that all of his brothers had faced before they had become big enough to fight back.

Anger burst through him, a dark, black fury that wrapped around his gut like a vicious monster. He was consumed with the need to fight back, to cut down the darkness that was so rampant, to destroy the monster that had brought violence into this little girl's life.

He swore at the sudden burst of hatred, so fierce that it shook him to his very core. Swearing, he shut his eyes, fighting to shut down the violence swirling through him. He didn't want Ava to see it on his face, to feel it in the tension of his muscles, to understand that her entire well-being depended on a man who had been born and raised in a life of violence.

Her arms tightened around him, and he felt her rest her cheek against his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he glanced down, something inside him shifting when he saw her resting her cheek against him, while her eyes watched her mom. What the hell? How had Ava been so close to him when the surge of violence rushed over him, and yet her only response had been to lean on him, as if he was the protection against it, not the source of it.

"Maddox?" Hannah's sleepy voice drew his attention, and he looked down at her.

Her cheeks were flushed, and something tightened in his gut. He leaned forward and brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek. "What can I get you? Some ibuprofen? You're burning up."

She nodded. "There's some on the kitchen counter." Her gaze flicked to Ava, and he saw her notice the fear in the little girl's eyes. Resolution flooded her hazy gaze, and she summoned a smile, a brilliant, energetic smile that he knew took every core of her strength. "Hey, Ava," she said gently. "I'm going to be fine. I just have a little cold. Maddox is going to take care of both of us, okay? Everything is okay." She untangled her hand from the sheets and lifted it toward Ava.

He saw her arm was trembling, so he quickly caught her wrist and gently lifted it toward Ava's hand. Their fingers intertwined, and he had a sudden urge to wrap his hand around their joined fingers, to hold them together, to somehow let them know that he would keep them safe, no matter what it took, no matter how much darkness lived inside him.

Then Hannah lowered her hand, and the moment was over, his opportunity gone. Hannah snuggled back into the blankets, her eyelids already closing. Maddox took a deep breath, tightened his grip on Ava, and stood up. "You like cereal? I saw some sort of frosted fruit things in there. You like those?"

A tiny smile curved the corner of Ava's mouth, and she nodded. Her gaze was riveted on him as if Hannah's endorsement of him had made everything okay. She was definitely more relaxed about Hannah now, maybe reassured by the fact that Hannah had woken up enough to tell her everything would be fine. But as Maddox glanced over his shoulder at sleeping Hannah as he headed for the kitchen, his gut tightened. She looked so small and exhausted in the pile of blankets.

He needed to be there. He needed to be there for both of them.