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I stare at him in shock.
“I see it now, Mr. Rory. You did your utmost to save Wynne’s life. Since I can never repay you, rest assured that I won’t be standing in your way.”
“You can repay him by ending the probe,” Winnie snaps. “And then stay the hell out of our life.”
Our life.
Fucking chills.
Nothing has ever sounded so divine on her lips.
“Yes, well, I’m withdrawing all open inquiries into Higher Ends’ business practices immediately,” he says, glancing back at her. This time, he walks closer and stops by her side, almost reaching out to take her hand before changing his mind. His eyes flick around the room, almost panicked. “As noted, I’m severing ties with Senator Corban as well. He knew what his son was capable of, and as far as I’m concerned, he was complicit in Holden’s cruelty.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Senators don’t wind up where they are with great moral compasses. I doubt Holden or his father could find true north much faster than the tortured monster in front of me.
What surprises me is the way Winnie’s eyes fill with tears.
“Really?” she whispers.
He nods decisively and turns to me.
“If you’d like, Mr. Rory, I’m prepared to go public with property damage claims on Higher Ends’ behalf. Holden told me the truth, so the proof is ironclad. I’ll ensure he repays every penny owed.”
Winnie waves her sobbing mother off to one side so she can look at her dad with a clear view. He glances down at our linked fingers but says nothing.
“I’ll discuss it with my brothers and let you know later. Right now, all that matters is she’s safe, and she needs rest. So if you’ll kindly wrap this up…”
Linda bursts out sobbing again as her husband takes the hint.
With halting steps, he marches his wife out of the room, and the air becomes easier to breathe again.
Colt’s waitingat home when I get back around ten o’clock in the morning.
Last night, I called Mom to sleep over and watch him, but she had to leave this morning for her art group. I find my boy alone, staring at his phone. He drops it in his lap the instant I walk into the room.
“How’s Winnie?” he asks eagerly.
For a second, he looks so grown-up it makes my throat tighten.
Only thirteen and the kid’s a damn mini-me with twice my maturity at his age.
“She’s good, Son. She rested up and she was looking much better when I left.”
I texted him brief messages about her progress last night, but I guess he needed to hear me say it to be certain.
I can’t blame him. Typing lies is easy enough, but your face tells things you can’t hide.
“Holy crap… thank God!” He fist pumps the air. “I was watching TikToks about people who went missing, all the bad stuff that can happen…”
I can’t help smiling when I rush over.
I drag him up in a bear hug and hold him so tight my shoulders ache.
I need to hold my kindhearted, nervous boy.
I need to banish his fear.
Hell, maybe we should be hugging like this more often, even if I know how much teenagers become allergic to it. I’m sure he needs it as much as I do.