Page 31 of Hope and Country

Midway, I got dizzy and had to find my balance against the wall until the waves of nausea passed.

When I reached the kitchen, Riley was there cooking, and by the smell of it, I guessed he was making pancakes.

His kitchen had high planked ceilings, teal cupboards, stainless steel appliances, and a huge island with a wooden countertop. It had a craftsman meet farmhouse and vintage vibe. And it suited him. Nothing too extravagant.

I watched him, humming a song, looking happy, dressed in sweats and bare feet, moving around with ease.

He swiveled, a turner in his hand, and our eyes locked.

A warm smile stretched his lips. “Hey you,” he greeted, padding forward. “How did you sleep?”

I returned his smile, my lips cracking where they were split.

“Like a rock. What time is it?”

“Almost noon. You might have suffered a concussion, and I didn’t notice last night. In fifteen minutes, I would have come to check on ya. Just in case.” I bowed my head as his worried eyes scanned my face. “Coffee? I am making pancakes.”

“Yes, please.” At last, my nirvana.

Riley offered me a mug and led me to a stool by the island.

“Thank you. For everything. I’ll get out of here later.” I tried to hide my weariness and the almost constant throb.

The man turned to face me, his smile dissolving completely. “No.” He inched closer. “Devon, you don’t have to leave. You said it yourself last night. You have nowhere to go. You’re safe as long as you’re in my home. There’s no way that man will think to look for you here. Why don’t you stay for now? And come up with realistic options before taking a hasty decision? You need to be someplace where you can heal without the risk of bumping into him. Give yourself some time. Unless you prefer I drive you to a women’s shelter.”

A surge of trepidation swirled in my stomach.

I shook my head, noticing how stiff my neck was. “No. Please. Don’t drive me to a shelter. I did once. Robbie is a police officer. He knows people. He can find me there.”

A weight grew in my chest, suffocating me as it pressed against my lungs. My body trembled at the memory of the last time I tried to escape my stepbrother and was treated as if he were the innocent victim, worrying for his brainless always-running-away little sister.

Riley pressed my hand. “I won’t. It’s settled. You stay here. For as long as you need. And I’ll help you. I promise you’ll never have to be that man’s punching bag ever again. You have my word.”

I blinked tears. “Why? How? You don’t have—”

He raised his hands between us. “I insist. Now you gotta eat something. Then we’ll hang out if you feel like it, or you can go rest if you prefer. Whatever you choose, I’m not leaving you by yourself.”

I tried to argue, but no words came out.

In all honesty, if Riley had asked me to go, I had no idea where I would have gone. I let out a sigh, putting my ego to rest, and accepted the strawberry pancake he offered me.

My favorite. How did he know?

It put a thick coat of balm around my heart.

“I’d like to hang out with you if your offer still stands,” I said, once I was done. “But nothing too physical or intellectual.”

“You know what? It’s been years since I relaxed for an entire day. Let’s watch something and you can nap if you’re tired. Deal?” I nodded. “Great. Let me get us blankets and snacks, and we’ll be good to go.”

Riley placed an ice pack before me on the countertop with a nod, leaving me to care for my bruises.

14

RILEY

Devon stood in the kitchen, watching me with apprehension and softness in her eyes. Her face was a map of bluish-black bruises, each one a sour reminder of what she had gone through all these years. A mixture of pain and anger twisted my insides, creating a new surge of hatred for the man who inflicted such physical abuse on a woman. Fishing deep inside me to avoid scowling, I brought a neutral expression to my face. Even with her flesh all smashed up, she still looked stunning. I firmed my back and stepped up to her, making sure to leave a comfortable space between us. The last thing I wanted was to scare her. I could offer shelter. And protection. And everything she needed to feel safe. If she wanted them. From me.

We ate in comfortable silence. As if we’d done it in the past and words were superfluous.