Lucky, who’s been watching the whole time, finally steps between us and shakes his head at Blade. “Man, don’t make this worse.”
Blade looks like he’s going to tear the whole parking lot apart just to keep me from walking away. But he doesn’t move. Hecan’t. He’s stuck between rage and regret and it’s eating him alive.
I take one last look at Blade standing there with his chest still heaving, eyes wild in a way he’ll never admit comes from fear, blood splattered across his cut like a warning to anyone dumb enough to come near me again. He looks like a man who finally realized he didn’t save something tonight, he almost lost it, and the only reason he didn’t is because his timing was good and mine was awful.
I turn away before the part of me that loves him way too hard gives me away, before I crumble and tell him he’s forgiven just for showing up. “Take me to Brooke’s,” I say to Ansley, my voice flat and done and holding on by a thread. Blade calls my name once, just once, and I know if I stop or look over my shoulder I’ll give in, I’ll let the anger go and the fear take over, and he doesn’t get that tonight, not after everything he just said, not after calling me a child like I’m some helpless thing. So I keep walking and I don’t look back, even though it feels like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind on that pavement.
Ansley keeps a tight grip on my hand until we reach her car. She is breathing fast, still shaken, but her voice comes out steady. “It’s going to be okay. You hear me. This feels like hell right now, but you are not alone in it.”
I nod but my vision is going blurry at the edges. My throat is tight. Too tight. I shove everything down, try to lock the tears behind clenched teeth. I tell myself I will deal with this later. In private. Not out here in front of the bar and the blood and the broken pieces of my pride.
Rev jogs up beside us as we climb into Ansley’s Honda. He taps her window once, and she rolls it down halfway. His jaw is hardand his voice is low. “I am following you to Brooke’s. Don’t argue. It’s not for Blade. It’s for me.”
Ansley nods immediately. “We’re going. Right now.” She starts the car. The engine rattles like it is barely held together, but she throws it into reverse and gets us out of that lot before Blade can come charging over to take another piece of my heart.
My hands shake while I pull out my phone. Brooke. She needs to know I am coming. I type quickly.
Me: Are you home. I need you.
Her reply comes before I even finish breathing.
Brooke: Always. Door is open.
Ansley drives fast, eyes flicking to the mirror every couple seconds to make sure Rev is still behind us. His bike is right there. Close enough that I feel the protection in it. Then another rumble joins him. Lucky. I close my eyes for a moment, relief crawling over my skin like warmth after a cold plunge. I hate that I still feel safer because they are here. I hate that Blade would read that as proof he is right.
The ride is short. Too short. I barely get control of my breathing by the time we pull up to Brooke’s house. The porch light glows soft and welcoming, like it knows this is not my first time showing up here with a broken heart. It probably will not be the last.
Ansley squeezes my knee before I open the door. “Go inside. I’ll call you tomorrow. And by then he better have unjammed his head from his ass.”
I almost laugh, but it comes out as a shaky breath instead. “Thank you.”
She leans over and hugs me hard. “Sisters stick,” she whispers.
“I know.” And I do. It’s why I texted Brooke without thinking. It’s why I have Ansley in my corner. It’s why Blade’s words hurt so bad. Because I finally found people I would bleed for.
I push the car door open and step out. Rev and Lucky park behind us, engines cutting off. They don’t approach. They just sit there. Watching. Guarding. Making sure the wolves in the shadows know I am not easy prey. That helps. More than I’ll ever admit.
I walk up the steps and the door opens before I can knock. Brooke is standing there, hair in a bun, pajama pants on, eyes sharp and soft at the same time. One look at me is all she needs. Her arms are around me instantly, pulling me inside. The door clicks shut behind us and something in me breaks wide open. I fold into her chest like I am seven years old again, scared and lost and desperate for someone who can promise that everything will be alright.
She rubs a hand over the back of my head, voice quiet but solid. “Breathe, baby. I have you.”
I hold on tight. My whole body shakes. Tears come hot and embarrassing, but Brooke never lets go. She never makes me feel stupid for hurting. She didn’t when our parents died or when I cried about stupid boys in high school. She won’t now.
Eventually my cries fade into ugly sniffles. Brooke wipes my cheek with her sleeve and tips my chin up like she used to when she helped me get ready for school.
“This feels familiar,” she says with a sad little smile. “Bella showed up here once. Switch was being a dumbass and she was convinced everything was falling apart.”
“What did you do?” My voice is cracked and thin.
“I let her cry. I fed her. I told her she wasn’t going anywhere because Switch would sooner stab himself in the leg than lose her.” Brooke cups my face firmly in both hands. “Blade is the same flavor of idiot. Rough edges. Good heart. Absolutely terrified of losing what he loves.”
“He called me a child.”
Her jaw flexes. “Then he deserves a punch in the throat.” She pauses. “But a man does not get that scared unless he cares so much it’s tearing him in half.”
My breath stutters again. “We were supposed to have tacos and a movie night.”
Brooke wraps a blanket around my shoulders and guides me to the couch like she is walking me home from a nightmare. “Then tomorrow, when he has crawled across broken glass to apologize, you make him bring tacos and his sorry ass better sit still for the movie.”
