Under His Protection

Chapter 27: Reassurance and Resolve

The sound of the front door unlocking jolted Taylor from her restless thoughts. She sprang to her feet as Travis stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a storm returning to calm.

His jacket was dusted with grime, his knuckles slightly bruised, and his shoulders carried the weight of the mission—but his eyes sought hers immediately.

"You're home," she whispered, relief flooding her voice.

"I told you I'd come back to you," he replied, closing the door behind him.

Taylor crossed the room in a heartbeat, throwing her arms around him. He caught her easily, his strong arms wrapping tightly around her as if he couldn't bear to let go.

"I was so scared," she admitted, her voice muffled against his chest.

"You don't have to be scared anymore, Angel," he said softly, his lips brushing against her hair. "We made progress tonight. Santino's down a shipment and a few key men."

She pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his chest. "But that doesn't mean he's done, does it?"

Travis sighed, his thumb tracing her jawline. "No, it doesn't. But it means we're one step closer to ending this."

Taylor nodded, her fingers brushing over his bruised knuckles. "You're hurt."

"Nothing I can't handle," he said with a faint smile. "You should see the other guy."

Despite herself, she chuckled, the tension in her chest easing slightly.

"Let me clean you up," she said, tugging his hand toward the bathroom.

Travis followed without protest, letting her take the lead.

In the bathroom, Taylor grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink and gestured for Travis to sit on the closed toilet lid. He obeyed, watching her with a mix of amusement and affection as she rummaged through the supplies.

"You know, I've had worse," he teased as she carefully cleaned the scrape on his cheek.

"That doesn't mean I'm letting this slide," she shot back, her focus unwavering. "If you're going to throw yourself into danger, the least you can do is let me take care of you afterward."

His lips curved into a small smile. "Fair enough."

As she worked, the silence between them was comfortable, the kind of quiet that came from understanding rather than tension.

When she finished, Taylor stepped back and crossed her arms, surveying her handiwork. "There. Good as new."

Travis stood, towering over her in the small space. His gaze softened as he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're incredible," he said, his voice low and sincere.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, suddenly shy. "I didn't do much."

"You do more than you realize," he said, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "You keep me grounded. You make me feel like I'm not just... this."

"This?" she repeated, her brow furrowing.

He gestured vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. "A man consumed by power. By violence. You remind me that there's more to life than this world I've built."

Taylor's heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached up, her fingers grazing his cheek. "You're not just that, Travis. You're a man who protects the people he loves. Who fights for what's right, even when it's hard. That's the man I see."

His throat worked as he swallowed hard, her words clearly hitting a nerve. "You make me want to be better," he admitted.

"Then be better," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For us."

Travis leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "I will, Angel. I promise."

Later that night, they sat together on the couch, the tension from earlier giving way to a rare moment of peace. Taylor rested her head on Travis's shoulder, her fingers intertwined with his.

"Do you ever think about what happens after all this?" she asked softly.

"After Santino?"

"After everything," she clarified. "The mafia. The danger. Do you ever think about walking away?"

Travis was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I've thought about it more since I met you," he admitted.

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "And?"

"And it's not that simple," he said, his tone regretful. "This world doesn't let you leave easily. There's always someone waiting to pull you back in."

"But if you could?" she pressed.

He met her gaze, and for a moment, she saw a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath his tough exterior. "If I could, I'd build a life with you. A real one. Somewhere far away from all of this."

Her heart swelled at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him gently. "Maybe one day," she said, her voice filled with hope.

"Maybe," he agreed, though there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes.

For now, the promise of "one day" was enough.