Chapter 13 - Possessive Mommy

Brad sneered, his grip tightening on the woman's arm. She glanced up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty, her body shivering as she struggled to stay on her feet. She turned back to Daniel, her eyes pleading, and spoke again, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.

"We'll take it," she said, her lips trembling, her voice cracking. "We're grateful."

Brad looked like he wanted to argue, but the woman shot him a sharp look, her eyes wide and filled with desperation. Slowly, he released her arm, his body still tense, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He took a step back, his eyes locked on Daniel, filled with a hatred that burned bright, even in the freezing night.

Daniel stood there for a moment longer, his heart pounding, his own body beginning to shiver from the exposure. The cold wind cut into his skin, and he felt his fingers going numb. He wanted to believe he was doing the right thing, but as he looked at Brad's glare, saw the anger and the resentment etched into his expression, a pang of doubt crept in. Maybe this compromise would come back to haunt him. Maybe he was being stupid, allowing these people to stay so close, allowing the threat to linger.

But he couldn't bring himself to turn them away completely—not when he could still hear the child's soft cries, muffled under the scarves and blankets.

With a sigh, his breath puffing visibly into the air, he turned back to the mansion. His body ached as he moved, the cold biting at him relentlessly. His eyes shifted to where Claire stood, just inside the doorway, watching him. She gave him a look—her expression unreadable, her eyes following his every step as he approached the door.

The moment Daniel stepped inside, the warmth of the bunker hit him, a stark contrast to the freezing world outside. He closed the door quickly, his fingers stiff as he fumbled with the lock. Claire's gaze never wavered, her eyes locked on his face, studying him.

"You're freezing," she said, her voice calm but with a hint of disapproval. She stepped forward, her hands reaching out to pull the heavy coat from his shoulders. "You shouldn't have stayed out there so long."

Daniel let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Yeah, I know," he muttered, his teeth still chattering as the warmth began to seep back into his body.

Claire gave him a tight smile, her fingers brushing against his as she took the coat. "You're too good for them," she said, her voice low, her eyes flicking toward the monitor that showed the group still huddled outside the gate. "They don't deserve it."

Daniel didn't respond, his eyes following her gaze to the screen. The woman was already picking up the crate, her movements slow and stiff, her breath visible as she spoke softly to the others. Brad stood off to the side, his eyes still locked on the mansion, his expression dark and filled with anger.

Daniel clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away.

The bunker was unnervingly quiet after the encounter with Brad's group. Daniel sat at the table, staring at the screen that displayed the news. It was surreal, like watching the world crumble from the safety of a fortress. Reporters spoke with frantic urgency, their voices filled with a barely concealed sense of dread.

"The temperature continues to plummet," one newscaster said, his breath visible in the freezing studio. "Experts say we are now experiencing record-breaking lows, with no sign of warming. Power grids are struggling, and entire neighborhoods are without electricity. The military has been deployed to provide support, but resources are stretched thin."

Daniel sighed, his eyes drifting to the chaotic images flashing on the screen—people wrapped in layers of clothing, crowding around military vehicles, their faces gaunt and tired. Entire streets blanketed in white, cars abandoned and buried under snow, homes frozen solid. It was worse than he remembered, and it was only the beginning. He'd been through this before. He knew the patterns of desperation, of people breaking apart and turning on each other. There was no surprise in the footage, only a cold acceptance of what was to come.

He wasn't losing sleep over Brad or the rest of them. In his eyes, they were just another group of people who hadn't prepared—people who were likely doomed, even if he gave them a handout. He'd learned the hard way in his past life that trying to save everyone was a losing game. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't interested in being one. He was interested in survival, his and whoever was with him.

But the kid... the kid was different. Her face kept flashing in his mind—the wide, frightened eyes, the shivering form wrapped in thin blankets. She didn't ask to be there. She was dragged along by people too stupid or too naïve to prepare. Kids were innocent. They didn't deserve to suffer because of the incompetence or bad luck of adults. It was that thought that gnawed at him, a tiny prick of guilt he couldn't fully shake.

"Hey," Claire's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. He looked up, meeting her gaze. She was standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes locked on him with a kind of intensity that seemed to cut through the chill in the room.

"What?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

"You're thinking about them, aren't you?" she said, her voice soft but with an accusatory edge. She stepped closer, leaning against the table, her gaze never leaving his. "You're feeling guilty."

Daniel clenched his jaw, his eyes shifting away from hers. "Not really," he said. "I did what I could. It's just... the kid."

Claire scoffed, shaking her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You think too much, Daniel. You can't save everyone. You know that."

"Yeah, I know." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking back to the screen. He wasn't dwelling on this like she thought he was. He wasn't haunted, and wasn't questioning his decisions. He knew the limits of what he could do. He'd accepted that a long time ago. But that didn't stop him from thinking about it, about the kid's face, about the look in her eyes.

Claire leaned in, her fingers brushing against his cheek, forcing his attention back to her. "You know I'll protect you, right? You don't need anyone else out there."

Daniel nodded. He didn't bother reassuring her more than that. He didn't need to. But as she turned away, her eyes lingering on him for just a moment longer, his gaze drifted back to the screen. The child's face flashed in his mind again—just for a moment—and he let out a long, slow breath. He couldn't help it; he still cared, even if he wasn't willing to admit it out loud. It wasn't weakness, it was just... human.

And in a world that was growing colder by the day, Daniel clung to the few things that kept him human. Even if they made survival more complicated.