Saxon's Soul (Haven, Texas 5)

“I’m going to call Saxon.”

“No, wait, don’t!” But Renard ignored her, picking up the landline to call the main house.

Crap.

The last thing she wanted was to create more work for Saxon. He didn’t need her problems on top of everything else.

“Well tell him to get off the fucking phone and get over here,” Renard snapped. “Hey! Hey!”

She tensed waiting for him to slam the phone down, but he laid it gently in the cradle before turning to her.

“Bastard hung up on me.”

“Language,” she reprimanded then wished she hadn’t said a thing as his eyebrow rose.

“Just heard worse coming out of your mouth, little girl.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” she told him. She took shallow breaths as she tried to ignore the agonizing burn in her hand. “Saxon’s busy?”

“So that bas—” he looked over at the boys, “boring old fart, Thomas, claims. Then he hung up on me.”

Thomas had balls of steel, that was for sure.

“I’m going to walk on up there and find him myself.”

“No, wait, I’ll go.” She forced herself to stand, trying to convince herself that her legs weren’t going to collapse beneath her.

Renard scowled at her. “You can’t go. You’re so pale you’re translucent.”

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Better I go than you. Thomas won’t even open the door for you.”

“Oh, he will.” His face looked determined. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Someone needs to stay with the boys. Will you call Gwen and ask her to come take care of them?”

She hated leaving them like this. And she wasn’t at all sure about leaving Renard with them. Still, Gwen lived next door, it wouldn’t take her long to come over and get them. Meanwhile, she would . . . shit. She didn’t know. Maybe she could drive herself to the doctor.

“I’d take you to the doc myself but doctors and I don’t mix well,” Renard muttered, looking from her to the boys. “I’ll just pick them up and walk you to—”

She moved as quickly as she could towards the door, knowing it would take him a bit to organize things. “I’m fine. Call Gwen. Thank you.”

She walked out the door as he called after her, irritation filling his voice. She leaned against the side of the building as a dizzy spell washed over her. Moving that quickly had been a bad idea. In fact, moving at all was pretty stupid.

Idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” She glanced over to find Renard standing next to her, a frown on his face and a boy held securely in each arm.

“Language.” She scowled back. “I told you to wait here.”

“Could tell you had no intention of finding Saxon, even if you could make it that far on your own. And if you were mine, you’d be in a world of trouble for first lying to me then trying to take care of this on your own.”

“Good thing I’m not yours then.”

“Good for me. Not so good for you since Saxon ain’t going to be pleased.” He glanced over her shoulder. She turned, seeing Gwen walk briskly towards them.

“Gwen, sorry to call on you at such short notice,” she told the older woman.

“Nonsense,” the woman said, reaching for Caleb, who was holding his arms out to her. “You know I love any excuse to get my hands on these two.” Gwen looked at her hand, where blood was starting to seep through the towel. “You need to get to the medical clinic. Are you taking her?” she asked Renard.