Page 47 of Wrecker

“I really do.”

Sitting on the floor between her knees, I rested my head against her belly. She stroked my hair with one hand, her other curled around mine. Her skin was soft, her cinnamon and vanilla scent clinging to the air, mixing with sawdust and sunshine and the smell of home.

This was peace.

Not the kind I ever thought I’d get.

It was so much more than I could have imagined. The kind that made every rough thing worth it. Every nightmare, scar, and fucking hard-earned second that I spent with my family.

“You know what today is?” I asked quietly, eyes still shut.

“Hmm?”

“Five years since I pulled you out of that parking garage.”

Peyton stilled, her fingers tightening in my hair.

I looked up, catching her soft gaze. “I didn’t know it then, but that was the first moment I breathedright. The first moment I had something to fightfor. Not just against.”

She bit her lip, tears shining in her lashes. “You always say the filthiest things…then ruin me with sweet stuff like that.”

“Balance, baby.” I chuckled and kissed her belly again. “I’m a fuckin’ complicated man.”

She snorted a laugh, and Mindy stirred slightly, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like “Daddy.”

Peyton smiled. “Looks like someone’s waking up.”

I stood slowly and scooped up our older girl, cradling her little body in my arms. She yawned, blinking up at me with those same violet eyes her mama had, sleep drunk and safe.

“You hungry, baby girl?”

She nodded, snuggling closer.

“Let’s go raid the fridge,” I murmured. “Mama and Farrah need rest.”

Peyton grinned, watching me with love shining in her eyes.

And I knew, no matter what came next—what fires we had to walk through—I’d brave every single one just to see that look on her face.

I’d spent my life knocking shit down. But my woman, our family, this life, we’d built them together. And I wasn’t ever fucking letting go.

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