Henson lifts his hands.“Now, wait just a minute…”
But Ethan steps forward before anyone can stop him. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t cuss. He just moves, one heartbeat, two, and then he grabs Henson by his coat lapels and slams him against the wall.
“You know how it is?” Ethan growls, voice lethal.“You fucking serious right now? I found Mia just in time. She was so scared.”
His voice cracks, just a little, and something inside me twists.
Henson’s eyes go wide with fear. Cas lunges forward, grabbing Ethan by the shoulders and yanking him back.“That’s enough!” His voice carries the weight of his badge and the authority of a brother.
Henson stumbles, pale.“You…you’re out of your damn mind! I’ll sue you!”
Ethan’s chest heaves.“You could’ve killed them, you bastard.”
For a second, everything freezes. The wind cuts through the bare trees. Henson wheezes. The porch feels too small for all the fury hanging in the air.
Cas steps between them.“Jim, go home. I’ll be by later to take your statement.” Then he turns to Ethan, voice quieter but sharp.“And you, go home, cool off. This is not the way.”
Ethan doesn’t look at him. His gaze is fixed on me, still burning, but beneath it... worry.
Henson mutters curses as he hurries to his truck and drives off.
Cas sighs.“I’ll file this as a warning,” he says, more to Ethan than me.“But don’t make me choose between you and my badge.” His tone softens when he looks at me.“Summer, I’ll see you at dinner. Penny can’t wait to see you.” Then he heads to his patrol truck and drives away.
Silence settles over the porch, thick and heavy.
I look at Ethan’s clenched fist.“You didn’t have to do that,” I say softly.
He shakes his head.“Yeah, I did.”
I set my tea down and step closer, close enough to see the faint tremor in his hands, the muscle ticking in his jaw, the storm still fading in his green eyes.“He’s not worth it, Ethan,” I whisper.“You already saved us once.”
Something eases in him, just a little. Like sunlight breaking through a storm cloud.
He nods once, slow. Exhales.“I’d do it again,” he says.
And I know he means it. Every word.
“Summer,” he says quietly, voice gentler now.“I went by your home yesterday. I wanted to see if I could find some of your things… but it’s all burned. I’m sorry.” His hand settles on my shoulder, warm, steady.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.“I imagined it would be.”
Ethan nods, steps off the porch, and walks to his truck. When he returns, he’s carrying a large bag.
“I thought you might need some clothes today,” he says, offering it to me.“So I brought you some of mine. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, Ethan, you didn’t have to…”
“It’s just some hoodies.” He smiles faintly.“Grace loves to steal them, so I figured you could borrow a few for now.”
I pull one out, soft and oversized, and the scent hits me instantly, laundry soap mixed with sandalwood and spice, a fragrance that is purely him.
“Thank you,” I say, staring at the fabric instead of his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it.” He tips his hat, gives me one last look, something unreadable flickering across his face, then turns and walks back toward his truck.
Ethan
I park outside Penny’s studio, the metal of my steering wheel still warm beneath my hands from the drive. My knuckles ache from how hard I’ve been holding on.
