“I choose you,” she whispers. “I want to give you the right place to land. The place you’ve always deserved.”
My chest splits open. I feel myself let go. I feel all of it. For once I’m able to loosen my grip on everything I’ve held tight.
I love this woman.
And right now, that’s everything.
We sit there like that for a long minute. Her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. My hands tucked under her thighs, holding her there.
And then she speaks, voice soft but certain. “I have the court hearing next Friday.”
Her head stays resting against mine, but her body goes tense. Like she’s expecting me to falter. Or pull away. As if her problems could be too much.
“I’ve been trying not to spiral,” she murmurs, “but I keep thinking Ashley’s going to pull something before then. She’s been too quiet. It’s making me jump at shadows.”
I wrap my arms around her body, tighter this time. Protective.
Next Friday isn’t just her hearing.
It’s the night Stauder expects me to show up and fight. The fight I haven’t told her about yet.
“I’ve got you,” I say, low into her hair. “No matter what.”
And I mean it, with everything in me. But the weight of it isn’t lost on either of us. Because that promise doesn’t just mean Ashley. It means Stauder too.
Next Friday’s already circled in blood.
I’m stuck in the car line, engine vibrating beneath me with the same restless energy crawling under my skin. Inching forward, I pretend I’m not clenching the wheel hard enough to leave marks. I try not to check the clock again and spiral into what-ifs. But my stomach’s already tying itself into knots, and no amount of deep breathing is undoing them.
Today’s the hearing to make the restraining order against Ashley permanent. If it goes through, it won’t just protect me, it’ll protect Bash, and Andrew, too. It’ll put something legal and solid between us and the woman who turned my life into a nightmare.
I should feel empowered. I should feel ready.
Instead, I just feel... exposed.
Lately, the only peace I’ve found is in the quiet hours with Hex. When Bash is asleep. When the shop is closed and the bar’s lights have gone dark. Sometimes he shows up late—so late it’s almost morning—slips under my covers with that big, warm body of his, holding onto me. A need so quiet it barely breathes.He never stays long. He’s always gone before Bash opens his eyes. But for those few hours, I forget everything else.
We’ve hooked up a few times during that stretch.God, the way he touches me… it feels… almost sacred, like he memorized me in another life. His hands move with certainty, always finding what I need before I ever have to ask. I can still feel the drag of his mouth against my neck, the way he whispers my name. There’s something unspoken in the way he moves with me, as if he’s trying to etch the moment into memory before it slips through his fingers. As if part of him is already halfway out the door.
That’s what’s been bothering me.
The way he’s been quieter lately. Not distant, not with me—if anything, he’s more attentive, more intense—but there’s a weight behind his stare that didn’t exist before. Something unsaid. Last night, his arms wrapped around me, but his head lived somewhere else entirely. I could feel it.
Something bigger than what he is telling me happened in that conversation with Stauder. He didn’t speak much about it—just said it’s nothing I need to worry about—but I’m learning that tone. That careful brush-off. Hex hasn’t lied yet, not really. But he shields. He protects. Even when it means carrying too much on his own.
And I let him.
There was blood on his knuckles when he returned after speaking to him. I watched him from across the shop, that unreadable stillness he wears like armor. He didn’t say who’s blood. I didn’t ask.
That’s the problem, isn’t it?
I haven’t asked.
I don’t know what that makes me… apathetic? Complicit? Stupid?
Or maybe… maybe I know exactly what it makes me.
Someone who’s tired of being good. Someone who’s learning that good doesn’t always keep you safe.
