“You’re not mad at me, right?”
My chest breaks open. I cross the space, scoop her into my arms, and hold her tight. “Never. Not once. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But Mom—“
“None of this is on you. Do you hear me?” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m proud of you. Always.”
Her small fingers curl around the collar of my shirt. “I was scared.”
“I know, baby. I know,” I whisper. “I’m here now.”
For her, and for Ella.
I set her down gently. “Let’s go.”
The main house is lit up like a Christmas tree—a sign of chaos if I’ve ever seen one. Ella sits on the couch, an ice pack pressed to her cheek. Her eyes snap up the second she senses me. The right side of her face is flushed, a bruise already forming.
My vision blurs—not from tears, but from rage.
Zane is pacing like a guard dog ready to break free. Jace is right behind him, scowling at the carpet like he wants to punch it. Beck sits on the edge of the couch, head lowered, breathing hard—the calm-before-the-storm kind of posture.
All three look up the moment I step in, fire igniting behind their eyes. Aria wasn’t kidding; they are mad, and I don’t blame them.
Zane’s jaw flexes like steel. “I swear to God, Dawson, I’m gonna—“
“No,” Beck snaps. “I’m gonna—“
“Toby and Calista both. I’ll take their heads off.” Jace cracks his knuckles. “No one touches our sister.”
My pulse hammers—not at them but at myself, because they’re right. She is their sister, the woman I’m falling for, and I wasn’t there.
“Cole…” Ella whispers.
I don’t move or speak. If I do, I’ll explode. Hell, the only thing keeping my hands steady is the fact that Aria is squeezing my fingers tighter.
Ella stands slowly, wincing. “I’m okay.”
“No. You’re not.” My voice comes out hoarse. “She hit you.”
“And that she,” Beck growls, getting up, “is about to lose teeth.”
“Beck.” Ella shoots him a glare that has more steel than softness. “Sit back down.”
Shockingly, he does. Zane and Jace move closer like a wall of testosterone, ready to kill someone. Ella steps toward me, ice pack still held to her cheek.
I swallow hard. “Shiloh…”
She stops in front of me, eyes soft, voice gentle. “Cole. I’m fine.” Then she turns to Aria. “Sweetheart, why don’t you join Daisy and Ava in the kitchen?”
Aria looks up at me for permission, and I give it to her with a slight approving nod. She lets go of my hand and disappears into the kitchen. As soon as she’s gone, I turn to Ella. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with her.”
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
That makes something inside me snap. “I’m not talking about your strength,” I say tightly. “I’m talking about my failure.”
Her brows pull together. “Cole—“
“I wasn’t there.”
