Page 17 of Rescuing Baylee

He shrugged, looking out over the grass. “Nothing for you to be sorry about. It wasn’t your issue.”

It was interesting to her that he was opening up to her on a personal level. Maybe she needed to extend an olive branch. Hell, she’d already decided she’d been bitchy to him and had planned to make him cookies. “We see a lot of abused kids come through pediatrics. There are more safeguards in place now than there used to be.”

He nodded lightly, hands still clenched in his pockets. “I am aware. And I use them every chance I get.”

She smiled slightly, appreciating that he felt that way, and advocated for the ones with no voices.

“How did you make it out?” she asked, curious, very aware that she was being a little invasive. But then, he’d offered the personal knowledge first.

He looked at her for a long moment, the setting sun glinting off the blue of his eyes, then he glanced away, as if he didn’t want her to see his eyes. “He hit my mother so hard one day that I heard her jaw break. Then he moved on to us kids. It only stopped because my older sister hit him in the back of his head with my baseball bat.”

A smile quirked her lips. “I think I would like your sister.”

A slow, answering grin spread his full lips. “Yeah, you probably would, actually. You both have that take-no-prisoners kind of mentality. Warrior women.”

Baylee glanced away. “Sometimes you have to take care of yourself.”

He bent down enough to catch her eye. “I’m not criticizing. I know as well as anyone a person has to do everything in their power to be safe.”

She nodded, running her hands down her pants. It was hard not to be defensive, but it sounded like he really did understand. She sank back down onto the side of the raised bed. “So, did your sister get in trouble?”

He settled beside her on the edge of the brick, a few inches of space between them. “Nope. The cops knew what went on in the house, and once he got out of the hospital, they put him in jail for a long time. We all had injuries, so it was easy to document. Mom had her jaw wired shut for three months. Once she healed, we moved and they divorced. He died in prison serving another DV charge about five years later.”

“Wow,” she breathed, glancing at him. “I’m glad you made it out okay.”

He jerked his shoulders in a shrug. “We had no other choice.”

“Is your mom still living?”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned, planting his elbows on his knees. “She lives outside of Amarillo and watches my sister’s kids. We all get together every few months.”

Baylee smiled, appreciating that he had that kind of family. It made her a little homesick. Her family was a long way away, up in Ohio.

“Well,” she said slowly. “Just to clarify, this wasn’t exactly a domestic violence situation.” She waved lightly at her face. “I was attacked in Afghanistan by Taliban.”

Hunter glanced at her sharply. “Fuck,” he breathed. “But, you’re a nurse…”

“Yeah. I was on Nightshade.”

That shut him up. There had been enough interviews, documentaries, books, and even a couple of TV series done about the attack, and it was common knowledge how horrific it had been. Baylee had been approached several times with book deals and the like. Sadly, the survivor list from FOB Nightshade was significantly smaller that the killed in action, and it was easy enough to look up who had been there.

As the years went by, the interest waned a little, but then three years ago there had been a push to make the date a national holiday. All the sensation and hype had surged. And this year there had been even more attention because of the anniversary. She’d gotten multiple invitations for everything under the sun, because they wanted to ‘recognize’ the survivors.

They didn’t understand that Baylee would literally do anything to forget that day.

She jerked when a warm hand closed over her fist. Blinking, she looked at the man beside her. “Sorry, I kind of get lost in it sometimes.”

“I think I would too if I’d gone through that,” he said softly. “No worries. Seriously. I think I understand you a little better now.”

Baylee suddenly felt exposed, but she appreciated him taking her hand. It had brought her back. She didn’t know this man well, though, and it was a little awkward. With a squeeze, she let his hand go.

The sun had faded well below the horizon. “I should go in. I need a shower after working out here.”

Landon stood with her, and even with the space between them, something about him affected her. Maybe it was becauseshe understood why he was a protector now. She looked at his broad shoulders and again felt the urge to burrow into his arms.

“All the hype about the anniversary must be hard for you,” he murmured softly.

Emotion tightened her throat at his understanding, and she had to glance away. “Yes,” she said simply.