“Youarehurt.” Brooke’s hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “He had you down and was choking you. I wasn’t going to just stand there.”
Tyler looked at her, taking in the shake in her hands and the fierce set of her jaw as adrenaline faded.
She’d fought for him. Literally picked up a chair and hit someone to protect him, despite all the doubt, despite what people would say, despite the risk to her own reputation and safety.
She’d chosen him.
“Brooke,” Tyler started, but didn’t know how to finish.
“Don’t.” She glanced at him, then back at the road. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“Still. I hate that it happened.”
“I hate it, too, but it did. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
She reached across the console and took his hand. Her fingers were still trembling.
Tyler squeezed back. He held on like she was the only solid thing in a world that kept trying to knock him down.
They drove the rest of the way in silence, the kind of silence that didn’t need filling, the kind that came from understanding.
When they reached Irma, Brooke drove to Tyler’s house instead of hers. She helped him inside, found ice for his jaw, and checked his ribs.
“You should see a doctor,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“So are you.”
She smiled at that, a real smile despite everything.
Tyler caught her hand as she pressed the icepack to his face. “Thank you. For back there. For saving me.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She looked like she was going to say something, but instead, she leaned in and kissed him, careful of his injured jaw, her lips soft against his.
When she pulled away, she said, “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’m going to head home.”
He caught the look she gave him and couldn’t quite make it out. He wanted to suggest she stay, but the words wouldn’t come. It felt like he’d be asking for too much. Besides, he was hurting and knew he’d be terrible company.
“I’m good. See you tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She smiled.
Chapter 27
Brooke
Sunday morning arrived with Brooke doomscrolling social media. She’d been awake for hours.
Sleep had been sporadic, the kind that made her wonder if she had ever truly slept. Certainly not deep sleep. Eventually, she gave up on it. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Rusty’s hands around Tyler’s throat, watched Tyler’s face turn red, then purple, and heard the crack of the chair hitting Rusty’s shoulder.
She helped Tyler get home last night, then called an Uber to take her back to her place. She had been tempted to stay, to make sure he really was okay, but that would never do.
Even sleeping on the couch brought too much risk of someone noticing she had spent the night. Not that she wasn’t an adult who could do what she wanted, but with the way things were...she sighed and dropped the phone onto her nightstand.
She went to the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove. The sound of it heating gave her something to concentrate on. She measured the coffee beans and focused on the grind, keeping her mind anchored to the noise instead of Tyler.
