Claimed by the Alien Bodyguard - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,28
“You want us to stay with you? Are…are you sure?”
He met her gaze and nodded. “I am.”
Tears filled her eyes, turning them into deep, dark pools.
Captain Walker cleared his throat. “You have my card, and there’s no use staying out here in the cold. Why don’t you all go on ahead and get warm and settled in. If you need anything, give me a call. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch soon.”
Broxen followed Gabriela as she returned to Ana; by the time she’d crossed that short distance, she was visibly shivering, and his teeth were clenched in frustration. It took everything within him not to reach for her.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Ana asked.
“Yeah, baby. I’m okay,” Gabriela responded, helping her daughter down from the truck.
Broxen grabbed the extra blanket that had been draped over Ana’s lap, lifted the tailgate into place, and gestured toward the front door. “Come. Let’s get inside.”
Ana looked toward the house before turning her face back toward her mother in confusion.
“Mason offered to let us stay with him tonight,” Gabriela said.
“Oh.” Ana tipped her head back and met Mason’s gaze. There were bits of ash in her hair, just as there were in Gabriela’s, and tears had left streaks upon her cheeks. “Thank you, Mason.”
For a moment, Broxen had a powerful urge to stalk across the road, pull Mr. Jensen out of his car, and pummel him, just because he knew the man had caused these females pain and distress. But he also knew it wouldn’t ease his aggression—and that it would only cause more trouble for his female.
Revenge wouldn’t help anything. That was a lesson Broxen had learned firsthand.
He offered Ana a nod and the best smile he could manage, placed a hand on Gabriela’s back, and gently nudged her toward the house. “You’re freezing. Let’s go.”
The females walked to the door with him. Broxen opened it wide, stood aside, and gestured for them to go in ahead of him. They moved to stand in the living room, where they gazed around. Having seen the warmth and coziness, the…the hominess of their house, Broxen couldn’t help but feel oddly self-conscious now. He closed the door behind himself and strode past his guests.
“Sorry. I, uh… I know it’s not much.”
Gabriela placed her hand upon his arm and met his gaze. “It’s fine, Mason. It’s…everything to us right now.”
He smiled at her. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t do anything but that for a few seconds. When he was finally able to move, he covered her hand with his.
Her skin was cold as ice. Broxen’s smile fell.
“Both of you, come with me.” He led them into his bedroom, grateful that he usually kept things neat. “You can take the bed. I’ll get some clean bedding on it, and, uh…”
He walked to the dresser, tugged open a drawer, and rummaged through it until he found a few t-shirts, a pair of drawstring sweatpants, and a couple pairs of basketball shorts.
“I know they won’t fit well, but I don’t have anything smaller,” Broxen said as he held the clothing out to Gabriela. He tilted his head toward the bathroom door. “You can shower in there. Clean towels in the closet.”
“Thank you.” Gabriela took the clothing and turned toward Ana. She handed her daughter a shirt and a pair of shorts. “Go ahead and shower, Ana. Try not to get your bandage wet. We’ll get some sleep after, okay?”
Ana nodded, clutched the clothes to her chest with one hand, and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Gabriela stared at the door for a moment before turning to face Broxen again. “I…can’t thank you enough. For what you did.” Her eyes watered. “You…you saved my baby girl.”
She was still trembling, and her skin was paler than usual. While he knew how it felt to be cold, he couldn’t begin to understand the emotions she must’ve been experiencing—couldn’t begin to guess at what she was thinking.
Or…perhaps he could.
There was something in her voice that he recognized, something he knew well after what had happened to Astius. Something he’d felt tonight, when he’d heard Gabriela scream and he’d run outside to see flames rising from the roof of her house and the sky filled with smoke.
Helplessness.
Broxen would’ve given his life to protect Astius not because it was his job, but because of the friendship they’d developed. In some ways, he had—because this was nothing like the life he’d known. That relationship had taken years to form. He