"I know." She leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. "That's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because the last person who promised to help me turned out to be the thing I needed help escaping from." She holds my gaze, unwavering. "How do I know this is different? How do I know you won't turn into him?"
I think about all the ways I could answer. Instead, I say the only thing that feels true.
"You don't." I take a step toward her, I can smell her scent under the flour and sugar. "You can't know. Not for sure. You just have to decide whether you're willing to take the risk."
"And if I'm not? If I can't?"
"Then we let you go. No pressure. No strings. No guilt trips." I swallow hard. "No growling at brothers who are just trying to catch you when you fall."
A tiny smile tugs at her lips. "That was pretty intense."
"It won't happen again."
"Are you sure about that?"
No. I'm not sure about anything anymore.
"I'll work on it," I manage.
The timer beeps, loud and insistent.
Jessica turns to pull the cookies from the oven, and the moment breaks. Some wall has come down. Some bridge has been built.
"For what it's worth," she says, setting the hot pan on a trivet, "I'm glad I'm here. Even if it's terrifying."
I watching her use a spatula to transfer cookies to a cooling rack, "I'm glad you're here too."
She picks up a cookie, still warm, chocolate gooey and perfect. Hands it to me.
It's the kind of cookie that fixes everything wrong in the world. The kind my grandmother used to make when I was a kid and scraped my knee or lost a hockey game.
I take a bite and watch her do the same, and for a moment, standing in my kitchen at three in the morning with flour on the floor and chocolate on our fingers, everything feels exactly right.
Then my phone buzzes again.
I pull it out, already knowing what I'm going to see.
Callum: I'll be there Friday. Make sure she's ready.
I delete the message before Jessica can see it. Press delete and watch it disappear like it never existed.
Friday.
We have until Friday to figure out what the hell we're going to do. Three days to prepare.
I take another bite of cookie and start planning.
Because if Callum thinks he's walking out of here with Jessica, he's got another thing coming.
She's pack now.
And I protect what's mine.
15
