He had a point. She wondered what that would be like, having shifter healing abilities. Handy, that’s what, she thought, but decided not to say it. “I can’t just leave because some punk threatened me. I won’t back down that way. It’s not who I am.”
“I can see that. You’re tough, Delilah Henry. Tougher than any woman I’ve ever met. But you’re breakable. Don’t forget that. I won’t.”
“I do this because I am breakable.” She hesitated and then added, “I graduated from the police academy, you know. I was going to be a cop.”
“Was?” he echoed. “What changed your mind?”
“The breakable people. My dad.”
“Is he a cop too?”
“He was. Ten years ago, a gas station robbery went sideways on him and he was shot and killed. The guy got away but there was video footage. It was taken without a warrant though and between that and a witness he paid to lie about his alibi, the guy walked.” She grit her teeth, still furious when she thought about it.
“And your mom?”
“Not an option,” she said, resisting a shudder at the thought. “She wasn’t very nice to me. Mental problems, my dad said. She was committed when I was nine and I never saw her again. Never cared to.”
“Damn,” he murmured, his hand reaching for a lock of her hair. He ran his fingers over it, staring at her with what she really hoped wasn’t pity. She didn’t want to see that.
She looked down, picking absently at the blanket as she talked. Might as well get it all out now. “After Dad died, I went into foster care for a while. I was on my own early, though. Foster care sucks even in the best situations.”
“I was in foster care, you know,” he said after only a brief hesitation and she blinked in surprise.
“No, I didn’t, but that explains some things.”
“Like what?” he asked, his tone guarded now. She understood that. She understood more than he knew about growing up in someone else’s house.
“You’re careful. You don’t put yourself out there very far and you have that same wary look in your eyes that the other foster kids always had. And … I see how fiercely loyal you are to Xavier. He’s your family. In my experience, only someone who didn’t have parents, a home, would be that protective of what they’ve built.”
“Your experience,” Jake repeated. “Did you ever find a family?”
She turned away, hoping his sharp bear senses couldn’t spot the tears pooling. “Nah,” she said, keeping her voice light. “Still looking. But when I find them, I’ll protect them like you do yours.”
Jake shook his head. “That must have been so hard on you.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant. Foster care or not finding a family by the time she’d come out the other side. She ignored both in case either one caused her to lose the battle with the tears she blinked back.