Too weak to fight or run, his brain fumbled for alternatives but came up blank. His only other option seemed to be to rest in the van and pray he could escape when they arrived at their destination.
As the men pushed him, stumbling, toward the rear of the vehicle, Tristan noticed the driver fidgeting, and again his gut warned him that something was wrong, that getting into the van would lead to some danger he didn't yet understand.
He braced for whatever was coming, terrified he wouldn't have the strength to handle whatever surprise awaited. When they reached the rear doors, Glasses reached for the handle.
And all hell broke loose.
Both van doors exploded open, knocking Tristan and Pearface to the floor and Glasses against the garage door.
Men came bursting out with guns pointed.
And Cade was one of them.
Shouts and scuffles erupted around them, but for Tristan, time suspended, and everything but Cade faded into the background. All he could see was the pinched, concerned expression; all he could hear was his name, ringing through the chaos.
He wanted to sob with relief, to scream with joy, but his throat constricted, strangling his words.
Cade knelt beside him and caressed his cheek, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Are you alright? It's going to be okay."
"Cade," he whispered hoarsely as a sob finally escaped.
"I'm here now. You're okay." Cade pulled him into his arms and held him tightly while Tristan blubbered against his chest.
"I... I didn't think... I thought they were going to kill me... or sell me... and I... " Tristan couldn't get the words out, couldn't lasso his scattered thoughts.
"I know, baby, I know, but it's over now. I've got you, Tris. I've got you," Cade promised as he rubbed soothing circles on his back.
The commotion continued around them, but Tristan barely registered it as relief rushed out of him in an unstoppable wave. Once the dam broke, his pent-up emotions — fear, anxiety, worry, anger — poured out.
He told himself that it was okay to let go, that he didn't need to hold himself together anymore.
Because Cade was here.
Cade had come for him, just like he had hoped.
Tristan struggled with disbelief, questioned whether this was really happening or if it was just some hopeful, fever dream, but the arms holding him were steady, and the familiar scent too strong to be imagined, so he snuggled closer to the warmth.
His bubble of security was broken when someone touched his hands, still tied behind his back, and he flinched, suddenly afraid again.
"It's okay," Cade told him in a hushed tone. "It's just Sullivan. He's getting the ropes off, okay?"
Comforted by Cade's assurance, Tristan nodded and then felt the ropes loosen and fall away. As soon as his hands were free, he clamped his arms around Cade's waist, clutching his solid form like a lifeline, preventing him from floating away in a sea of emotion.
Tristan didn't know how long he lay there clinging to Cade, forcing himself to accept that this ordeal was finally over, but hefocused on Cade's soothing whispers and his unwavering presence. After some time, sobs subsided into hiccups, overwhelming fear and anxiety dulled to a low thrum, and the suffocating squeeze in his chest eased.
When the sense of safety finally seeped into his consciousness, Tristan let his head fall back and gazed up, his eyes stinging. Cade wiped away tear tracks with his thumb and said in an achingly gentle voice, "There you are."
Tristan leaned into the touch and reached up to cover Cade's hand with his own.
They stared at each other for a moment before Tristan murmured, "Hey," with a small smile.
"Hey," Cade responded before leaning down to kiss his forehead.
"You're here."
"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." Cade's promise wrapped around Tristan like a warm blanket, and he could almost feel the words healing him, stitching the broken pieces of him back together.
