Page 24 of You've Got The Love
Her eyes flick to mine, and for the first time since that phone call, I see a spark of curiosity break through the fear.
“You’ve done this before?” she asks, her voice small.
“Lay low?” I grin faintly, shutting off the engine. “No, but I’ve been on more barges than I can count.”
I step out first, the chill air biting at my neck. I scan the narrow street and the rows of dark houses, my instincts crawling like ants under my skin. Quiet can be good… or it can mean danger is waiting. I circle to her side and open the door.
“Easy,” I say, offering my hand.
She hesitates, then takes it. Her legs wobble the moment she’s upright, and I grip her waist to steady her.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur.
Her wide, anxious eyes meet mine. Her fingers bunch in the fabric of my jacket before she lets out a tiny, shaky laugh. “You make that sound like you mean… all of me.”
“I do,” slips out before I can stop myself. Her lips part in surprise, but I clear my throat and nod toward the dock. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”
We move quickly down the wooden planks, our footsteps muted by the water lapping beneath us. I punch in the code Sander gave me during that rushed call earlier tonight. I’m lucky to have a friend like him—no questions, just trust.The barge’s door unlocks with a soft click. I usher her inside first and flick on the dim cabin lights.
The space smells faintly of coffee, wood, and river air. It’s cozy, almost storybook-small, with built-in shelves lined with mismatched mugs and nautical trinkets. A narrow corridor leads to a snug bedroom at the end. Amber steps in cautiously, her gaze flicking over the low ceiling and warm wooden walls.
“It’s… cute,” she says softly, voice shaking. “I feel like I should be wearing a fisherman’s sweater or something.”
I chuckle, tension loosening in my chest. “Don’t tempt me. I’m sure I can find one somewhere in the back for you.”
Her lips twitch, almost forming a smile, and I take that as a small victory.
“We’ll be safe here,” I tell her, locking the door behind us. “No one knows this place except Sander. And he’s halfway to Fortuna in Spain for the next month.”
Amber sinks onto the worn leather sofa, curling into the corner and clutching a pillow to her chest. Her breathing is shallow, uneven. Her eyes follow me as I make a slow circuit of the room, checking locks, peeking out the smallround windows, making sure to cover up the ones with no curtains, making sure every shadow outside belongs to a tree or a fencepost.
My pulse is still pounding, but a strange sense of relief seeps in, slow and heavy.
We made it.
For now.
When I finally sit beside her, she leans into me without hesitation. Her head rests against my shoulder, soft and trusting. Instinct takes over—I wrap an arm around her and pull her close. Her trembling seeps into me, and I wish I could absorb every shake, every ounce of fear, and carry it for her.
“We’re okay,liefje,” I whisper into her hair. “I’ve got you. I promise.”
Her soft breath fans against my neck, and I know sleep won’t come easily for either of us tonight. But for now, she’s safe.
And I’ll burn the world down to keep her that way.
Chapter 13
Amber
I’m pretty sure my heart hasn’t stopped racing since Dad’s call. Even here, on this little barge in the middle of a silent Amsterdam canal, my chest feels tight, like danger could slip in through the cracks. Every groan of the wooden hull, every whisper of water against metal makes my nerves jolt.
But then there’s Bastiaan.
I’m curled into his side on the worn leather sofa, and his arm is heavy and warm around me. His hoodie still smells like him—sandalwood, soap, and something that makes my throat ache when I breathe it in.
I shouldn’t be here, not like this. Not sinking into the comfort of someone who’s already lost too much.
He doesn’t need my chaos. My father. The shadows I can’t shake.
