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Rhiannon visibly stiffened, her arms tightening around the child. The man’s tone was hostile, derisive, and Pierce could see how it gnawed at her patience. The softness in her eyes hardened ever so slightly. “Pierce has more experience with these situations than any of us here. He works with a search and rescue team.”
Dean grunted and walked over to the front door. He gave it a testing shove and then a swift kick, but the pile of earth and rubble on the other side didn’t budge.
Pierce watched Dean’s futile attempts without expression, but inside, he seethed at the man’s arrogance. He would have liked nothing more than to school Dean in the lethal dangers of triggering another landslide, but that would require a voice. Nobody ever listened when you yelled in sign language.
Dean kicked the door again, and something shifted overhead, sending a shower of dust and bits of ceiling plaster raining down on the panicked crowd. Several people shrieked as they scrambled away from the falling debris.
“Stop!” Rhiannon’s voice sliced through the hushed quiet, her tone devoid of its earlier gentleness. “You could bring the whole place down on top of us.”
Dean sneered at her, but he stepped back from the door. His gaze roved to Pierce, a smug challenge in his eyes. But Pierce just returned his stare evenly, unflinching. He didn’t have to make noise to be heard.
Dean’s face flushed red under the layer of grime. “Bunch of babies,” he muttered under his breath but backed off.
Pierce didn’t particularly care what the man thought of him, only that he obeyed the necessary decisions to keep everyone safe. He had far too many potential threats to manage already; an unruly civilian was just another unwelcome complication.
He watched as Dean retreated to a distant corner of the gift shop, his disgruntled slouch signaling his capitulation. He was still something to watch out for, but for now, he’d been dealt with.
His gaze shifted back to Rhiannon. She had turned her attention back to Michael, whispering to him and soothingly stroking his hair. The boy was visibly trembling, his wide eyes flickering nervously between Pierce and Dean.
She looked up and caught Pierce’s eyes on her. Her gaze held so much trust — trust that he was capable of handling whatever came their way. It made his gut clench with a strange mix of fear and… warmth. As if her faith in him sparked a little flame in the ice-cold pit of his heart.
She wouldn’t look at him like that if she knew all the things he’d done. His past was a minefield of morally grey decisions, of necessary evils committed for the greater good. Rhiannon wouldn’t look at him like this if she knew about the lives he’d taken or the sacrifices he’d made on unnamed battlefields under moonlit skies painted red with blood.
His gaze dropped to his hands. They were coated in dirt now, but under it, he could see the blood stains. Always there. He could never wash them away, never forget. The stains were a part of him, forever etched into his soul, branding him as the monster he knew himself to be. If she knew, would those trusting eyes turn cold? Would she recoil from him, as she should?
“He’s really freaked out,” Rhiannon interrupted his thoughts, gesturing with her head toward Michael, who clung to her like a lifeline, his small body shaking like a leaf in a storm. “I can keep him calm, but... I think it would help if he heard from you that we’re going to be okay.”
Something akin to panic tightened in Pierce’s chest—interacting with adults was one thing, but children? They deserved a gentleness he wasn’t sure he was capable of.
“Rhia,”he signed, his brows furrowed,“I’m not good with kids.”
His entire experience with kids boiled down to studiously avoiding Zak and Anna Hendricks’ precocious adopted daughter, Poppy, as she ran and played on the grounds of Redwood Coast Rescue. Poppy was beautiful and sweet and so happy, a bright light, and he’d always been afraid he’d taint her with his darkness if he got too close. He was an entity of shadows and secrets, not fit for an innocent world that smelled of fresh crayons and gummy bears.
Rhiannon studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she offered him a soft smile. “You don’t have to be good with kids. You just need to be genuine. You saved him, and you speak his language. He needs to hear from someone other than me that he’s safe. He needs to hear it from the person who fought for him.”
Pierce glanced at the boy, his heart clenching at the tears pooling in the child’s eyes and the way Michael clung to Rhiannon as if she was his anchor in this storm. He hesitated for a moment longer, and Razzy bumped a nose to his hand as if to say,“What’s the problem?”
Right. He’d done harder things than this.
Taking a deep breath, Pierce knelt to Michael’s level, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Hey.”His hands felt too heavy, too clumsy to carry the delicate weight of a child’s hope, but he had to try.
Michael buried his face in Rhiannon’s shoulder.
He waved his hand in front of the boy’s face to get his attention, then signed,“Look at me.”
Michael hesitated for a second before lifting his head.“I want my mom,”he signed, big tears leaving trails in the dirt on his cheeks.
Yeah, that hit like a solid punch straight to the gut, knocking all the air from Pierce’s lungs. He swallowed hard, his scars pulling tight across his throat.”I know, kid. I promise you, I will get you back to your family.”He purposely used the sign for family rather than mom because he doubted the kid’s parents were still alive. They wouldn’t have heard the landslide coming, wouldn’t have been able to get out of the way in time. But there had to be grandparents or aunts and uncles somewhere.“But until then, you’re not alone. You’ve got Rhia and me. We’re going to keep you safe, okay?”
Michael took a shaky breath and then nodded, his blue eyes shimmering with trust. He let go of Rhiannon and hesitantly reached out to touch the scar on Pierce’s neck.“You got a hurt.”
Pierce’s throat tightened at the innocent observation, the simple statement pulling him back to a past he fought every day to leave behind. He nodded.“Yes, I got hurt once a long time ago. But I’m okay now. And I won’t let you get hurt, okay?”
Michael managed a brave nod, his small chin trembling as he signed,“Okay.”
Pierce felt a surge of protectiveness swell in his chest as he brushed away the fresh tears on the boy’s cheeks with the back of his sleeve. His gaze met Rhiannon’s, and he could see the questions in her eyes, questions about his past and scars. Questions he was not about to answer for her.
