She rubs a hand over her face, exhaustion bleeding through the cracks. “Saved you? More like sent my best friend into the arms of the man who started all this!” She gestures around us frantically.
My chest aches. “You didn’t know him, and neither did I.”
Addison drops onto the bed next to me. “I need to know everything. Start from the beginning, and don’t you dare leave anything out.”
“Okay,” I nod, facing her.
So I tell her everything from the moment she called me about the kill list, the torturous trip to get to Ryder’s home, introducing him to Julian for the first time, him slowly accepting us, the attack, coming to Iron Stallion, and everything in between.
When I’m done, Addison leans back, staring at the ceiling like she’s trying to process the scale of it. “Fuck, our lives really are a movie.”
I lie down as well and turn to face her. “It’s a horrible movie,” I say, giggling.
She chuckles as well, nudging my shoulder. “You can say that again.” She falls silent before her eyes cut back to me. “And Ryder—what is he to you now?”
My stomach twists, and I hesitate too long.
Addison’s brows lift slowly. “Oh my God.”
“Addy—“
“You’re together?!” she exclaims, scandalized. “Kate Ellington, who once cried because a barista spelled her name wrong, is dating a lethal mountain ghost with a gun collection.”
A laugh breaks out of me, wet and helpless. “Shut up, and in my defense, I was high on pregnancy hormones that day, and that barista was just mean.”
She pulls me into an embrace while I wipe at my cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t go up that mountain looking for love. I went looking for survival, for my son and me.”
Addison sobers instantly. “And what did you find?”
I think of Ryder watching Julian sleep, of his arms around me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, and his voice saying he’ll try.
“Him,” I whisper.
Addison’s expression softens, devastation and understanding folding together. “Oh, Kate. Don’t worry, we’re going to survive this. You, me, Julian… even Ryder Morgan’s emotionally repressed ass.”
A broken laugh escapes me through tears, and she squeezes tighter. “I didn’t come all this way to lose you. Not after I found him for you. Not now. Not ever.”
I lean into her hug, letting myself soak into the truth of her being here, solid and alive.
When we step back into the main part of the house, the air feels subtly different than it did an hour ago.
Zane is already organizing men and perimeter checks. Jace is on the phone, and I hear mentions of police and FBI in there. Tessa stands near him with her tablet open, fingers moving quickly, tracking things I can’t see.
Beck is leaning against the hallway wall, arms folded, watching Addison approach like he’s deciding what kind of trouble she is. Addison, for her part, lifts her chin like she’s faced worse than a ranch full of lethal cowboys. Which, to be fair, she has.
Quinn approaches us first, hair pulled back in a sleek knot, her expression composed in that corporate way that makes her look like she could negotiate a peace treaty while holding a baby.
She looks Addison up and down once, then she smiles. “You must be Addison.”
My best friend blinks. “I am.”
Quinn holds out her hand. “Quinn Morgan. Welcome to Iron Stallion. Sorry about the circumstances.”
Addison lets out a short laugh as she shakes it. “Story of my life.”
Ava comes next, softer but no less steady, her pop-star beauty almost surreal in this house of guns and scars.
Addison’s eyes nearly bug out when she recognizes her. “Is that?” she whispers, nudging me.
