I’m already starting to feel better, having him guide methrough the steps I need to take, even though I’ve already taken them. “Yes. I made sure.”
“Good girl.” Tucker is huffing and puffing now. “I want you to go grab your baseball bat and sit somewhere you can see both doors. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hangs up, leaving me staring across my apartment in confusion.
I obviously didn’t hear him right. My brain must be scrambled from the wine, because I know exactly how long it takes to get here from Wyoming.
I may or may not have priced plane tickets.
I still do what he told me, moving quickly but quietly into my bedroom and pulling the heavy metal bat from my closet. After making sure the sock covering it is still in place, I check on Birdie before creeping back down the stairs. I’ve just reached the bottom when headlights cut across the front blinds, sending my stomach dropping to my feet.
I grip the bat tight, planning out my attack if somebody tries to come through my door. Head first. Then gut.
Balls for good measure.
I inch toward the door, heart racing as I hear heavy steps on the cement stairs on the other side.
Oh God. This is real. William wasn’t just trying to scare me. He meant what he said. He’s going to try to kill me. Going to take my daughter. Going to?—
“Ruth.” The voice on the other side of my door is so familiar I stop breathing. “Let me in, sweetheart.”
The bat hits the floor, clanging against the laminate as I fumble with the deadbolt. I stub my toe kicking away the safety brace, but barely feel it as I fling the door open, eyes landing on Tucker Bradshaw for the first time in almost three weeks.
“It’s okay.” He grabs me, pinning me against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head as his scent surrounds me. “Everything is going to be okay.”
There’ve only been a handful of times in my life where I felt like that was actually true.
I was wrong about all of them.
I thought my mother would survive her diagnosis. She didn’t.
I believed Birdie coming into my life would help me feel like I wasn’t so alone, and that everything would work out. It didn’t.
I hoped moving across the country would show William I really don’t want him in my life any more than he wants me in his. Obviously that’s not the way that worked out.
Considering past experience, there’s no way I should believe this particular scenario will be any different.
But with Tucker here, his arms holding me tight against the broad warmth of his chest, I can’t help but think it might finally all work out. That everything could possibly be okay.
And maybe the reason I’m thinking that is because my definition ofeverythinghas changed dramatically. What matters most to me has shifted. The life I want and the people I need in it evolved without me meaning for it to happen.
I thought time and distance would undo it, but every day the knot tying me together gets tighter and tighter. Until it took everything in me to find air.
“Just breathe.” Tucker’s fingertips massage along my scalp as his body curls closer to mine, enveloping me with his scent. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you or Birdie. I promise.” The emotion in his voice encases each word, making them sound as strangled as I’ve felt without him.
And for the first time since he left, that knot eases. The pressure dissipates, making it possible for me to say what needs to be said.
What I wish I’d said weeks ago, but was too afraid of where it would lead.
Now I know, and I don’t like it here.
I hiccup a little, but manage to swallow it down as I lift myeyes to his, fingers clutched in his shirt like I’m afraid he’s going to run away. “I want to come home.”
Tucker’s fingers tangle in my hair as his forehead drops to rest against mine. “Thank God. Because I was worried about how mad you were gonna be when you found out I came here to pack this whole place up so I could bring you and Birdie back where you belong.”
32
Tucker
Idon’t know how I survived without her.
