Page 90 of From the Wreckage

Everett

She’s in my arms again.

For weeks, I’ve been walking around like a ghost—breathing, moving, speaking—but not living. Not without her.

Now she’s here, clinging to me, burying her face in my jacket, and I swear the air finally rushes back into my lungs.

I crush her against me, terrified that if I let go for even a second, she’ll vanish. My chest aches from how tightly I’m holding her, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop. Not when she feels like home.

Her tears soak into my shirt, hot and silent. I drop my chin to the top of her head, breathing her in like I’m starving. Sunflowers, vanilla, and rain. The scent I’d been chasing in every empty room since the moment she walked out of my life.

I force myself to pull back just enough to see her face. God, she’s beautiful. Even with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. My thumb drags across her cheekbone, catching a stray tear.

“I thought I lost you,” I whisper, my voice raw. “I can’t… I can’t do this life without you, angel.”

Her lips part, trembling, but no words come out. She doesn’t have to say anything. The way she looks at me—like I’m the only solid thing in her crumbling world—says it all.

I’m grateful I heard Grayson’s soft footsteps retreating down the hallway and the creak of his bedroom door closing, giving us space. Thank God he did. Because I’m one second away from breaking apart in front of her.

I bend, pressing my forehead to hers, desperate for her to feel how serious I am. “You don’t have to say a word. Just let me stay. Let me prove I’m not walking away again. Ever.”

Her smile is small, watery, but real. It damn near kills me. “You better not.”

“I promise I’m never leaving. Cross my heart.” I glance at the table behind us, which is covered with plates and food.

“You need to eat, angel,” I murmur, brushing my thumb across her cheek one last time before forcing myself to ease back.

She lets out a shaky laugh, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Only if you’ll join us.”

I grin, unable to help it. “You better tell your dad to come out, then. I didn’t mean to interrupt dinner. I just…” My voice drops, rougher now. “I couldn’t be away from you any longer.”

Her fingers slip into mine, squeezing tight. “I’m glad you’re here.” She runs her hands over my shoulders, like she’s convincing herself I’m solid and not about to disappear again.

When she finally lets go, it’s a reluctant, almost painful release. “Let me tell Dad to come out and eat.”

She disappears down the hallway, leaving me standing in the quiet kitchen. My eyes land on the table—two plates, food still steaming, the scent of steak and garlic butter hanging in the air. I rake a hand through my hair, guilt gnawing at me. I shouldn’t stay. This is their time.

But when she returns, Grayson is right behind her. His eyes flick to me, assessing, guarded as always. Then he huffs and jerks his chin toward the table. “Stay. There’s plenty.”

I start to shake my head. “I don’t want to intrude?—”

“Son.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Sit down.”

For a second, I just stare at him, stunned. Then Bri tugs me toward the empty chair, her soft smile undoing me all over again.

The scrape of chairs echoes through the kitchen as the three of us sit down. The table feels too small suddenly, crowded not by space but by everything hanging in the air between us.

Bri dishes mashed potatoes onto her plate, her movements careful and deliberate.

I can see it in the way her hand trembles slightly—she’s still raw, still carrying the weight of every word she just confessed.

I want to take the plate from her, hold her, do anything to ease the load, but for once, I force myself to stay still.

Grayson clears his throat. “Don’t get used to me sharing my mac and cheese,” he mutters, spooning a generous heap onto his own plate before passing the bowl to me. “I make it once in a blue moon and usually don’t share.”

Bri lets out a soft laugh, her eyes darting between us. “You act like you’re some kind of chef. You made it out of a box.”

He huffs. “Still better than that cardboard stuff you college kids live on.”

I bite back a grin as I take the bowl. “I’ll take your mac and cheese over ramen any day.”

Grayson narrows his eyes, like he’s not sure if I’m mocking him or not. Bri nudges me under the table with her foot, shooting me a look that tells me to behave. For the first time in weeks, my chest doesn’t feel like it’s caving in.

Conversation drifts between the three of us, uneven but steady. Bri asks about his job, her dad grumbles about a stubborn engine he worked on, and I chime in here and there when it feels right. It’s… normal. And that’s what guts me the most.

Every time I look at her across the table, the way her hair falls around her face, the way she pushes her food around when she’s lost in thought, I feel like I’m starving and finally being fed.

At one point, she catches me staring. Her cheeks flush, and she hides behind her glass of water.

Grayson notices, of course. He sets down his fork, leveling me with a look that could pin a man to the wall. “If you’re gonna sit at my table, Everett, you better eat. Not just sit there making moon eyes at my daughter.”

Bri gasps, mortified. “Dad!”

But I can’t stop the laugh that rumbles out of me, low and honest. I scoop up a forkful of potatoes and take a bite, still looking at her. “Yes, sir.”

Grayson shakes his head, muttering something about “kids these days,” but when I glance at him again, there’s no fire in his eyes. Just a kind of resigned acceptance.

And for the first time in forever, I let myself believe that maybe this is the start of something whole again.

After dinner, Bri gathers a few plates and turns to her dad. “Want some help with cleanup?”

He waves a hand, already stacking the dishes. “No, I got it. You two kids have fun.”

A faint blush warms her cheeks as she glances at me. “Want to sit outside?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

On the way to the door, I grab the blanket draped across the couch and sling my leather jacket over my arm.

Outside, the night air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the lake. I settle into one of the Adirondack chairs, then tug her into my lap, sliding my jacket on her, and wrapping the blanket around her legs.

She tilts her head, her eyes shining in the dim porch light. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

I press a kiss to the crown of her head, breathing her in. “No, angel. I’ve got you here keeping me warm.”

She relaxes against me, and for a few minutes, we sit in silence, watching the lake. The moonlight dances over the rippling water, and the dock creaks faintly with the rhythm of the waves.

Then she shifts, looking over her shoulder at me, her voice soft. “I told Dad… what happened.”

Concern cuts through me instantly. I shift her on my lap, needing to see her face. “How’d he take it?”

She exhales shakily. “Well… after the shock—since I just blurted it out—he was upset. Pissed at… him. But he doesn’t think it’s my fault.”

“’Cause it’s not,” I say fiercely.

She nods, and for the first time, I see her actually believe it, even if just a little. “He wants to kill Joey.”

Every muscle in my body locks tight, fury burning hot and immediate. My voice is low and lethal. “So do I.”

Her hand flies to my chest, her eyes pleading. “Please… don’t. I couldn’t…” She blinks rapidly, fighting tears. “I can’t lose you. Not again. Not after I just got you back.”

I grip her hand, pressing it against my heart. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” I lift her hand, kissing her knuckles, holding her gaze.

Something in her melts, and she collapses against me, letting me hold her. The silence that falls is different this time—not heavy but comforting. We stare out at the dark lake, the gentle lap of the waves filling the silent night air.

I tilt my head back, staring at the scatter of stars above us.

For the first time since the wreck that stole everything from me, I actually believe I’ve been given a second chance. That I’m not broken like I thought.

Her voice cuts through the quiet, soft but certain. “You’re not.”

I lower my head, searching her face. “I’m not what?”

She gazes up at me, love shimmering in her hazel eyes. “You’re not too damaged. Too broken to give or receive love.”

For a long beat, all I can do is stare at her, my chest aching with a fullness I thought I’d never feel again.

“Neither are you,” I whisper back, brushing my thumb across her cheek.

Her lips part like she wants to say more, but instead she just leans into my hand, her eyes closing. I hold her like that, my angel curled on my lap beneath the stars, the night air wrapping around us like a fragile cocoon.

The waves lap against the dock. A loon calls out across the lake. For once, the world feels still.

But inside, I’m anything but still.

I press my lips to her temple, eyes lifting to the endless black sky. The stars burn like tiny fires, fierce and unyielding. And I make my vow to them, to her, to myself.

He won’t take anything else from her. Not her peace. Not her safety. Not one more goddamn thing.

I hold her tighter, my chest swelling with a promise I’ll never break.

As long as I’m breathing, Joey will never touch her again.

I shift her carefully in my arms and carry her inside. Grayson looks up from his chair, eyes dropping to her face.

“She asleep?”

I nod.

“Finally.” He blows out a breath, his shoulders sagging. Then his gaze meets mine, steady and unflinching. “Thanks for… everything. But mostly, for loving my daughter.”

The words hit me harder than I’m prepared for. My throat locks, too tight for speech, so I just nod, emotion burning through me.

Finally, I jerk my chin toward the hallway. “I’m gonna tuck her in. Then I’ll go.”

Grayson’s lips twitch before a rough chuckle comes out. “Yeah. You may think you’re gonna go, but I know my daughter. If she wants you to stay, I’m good with it.”

I can see how much it costs him to say that, how much pride he has to swallow. And I’ll never forget it.

“Thanks,” I whisper, carrying her down the hall.

He’s right, of course. The minute I lower her onto the bed and try to step back, her eyes flutter open. She reaches out, fingers locking tight around my arm.

“Please. Don’t go. Stay with me.”

I lean over her, brushing my lips across her forehead. “I’ll stay.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tug at the laces of my boots, kicking them off one by one. I shift toward the other side, lifting the covers to slide in, but she stops me with a quiet plea.

“Take your shirt off.”

I freeze, my eyes locking on hers.

Color rises in her cheeks. “I missed feeling your heartbeat beneath my ear.”

My lips twitch into a smile I can’t contain. I grab the hem of my shirt, dragging it over my head in one swift motion. She pulls her arm from my leather jacket, fumbling with it, so I take it from her and toss it onto the floor.

Sliding beneath the covers, I gather her close. She curls into me immediately, her cheek pressed to my chest, right over the steady drum of my heart.

“Goodnight, Everett,” she whispers, her voice already heavy with sleep.

I press my lips to the top of her head, holding her like I’ll never let her go again. “Nite, angel.”

She’s asleep within minutes, her breath soft and steady against my chest. I hold still, afraid to move, afraid to disturb the peace etched across her face.

For the first time in what feels like forever, she looks unburdened. Not broken. Just… Bri. My angel.

I stroke a hand down her back, slow and steady, like maybe I can keep her in this dream world a little longer. She shifts closer, her hand curling against my ribs, and the knot in my chest loosens another inch.

But sleep won’t come for me. Not when my head is a hurricane.

Her words replay over and over. He drugged me. I couldn’t move. Every syllable burns into my skull until rage pulses through me in waves. My jaw aches from clenching. My free hand fists in the blanket, every muscle tight as steel.

Joey’s face flashes in my mind. That smug smirk. Touching what was never his to touch.

I want to tear him apart. Piece by piece.

I tilt my head, pressing my lips against Bri’s hairline, breathing her in until the violence in me sharpens into something cold and focused. She stirs but doesn’t wake, whispering something against my skin that sounds like my name.

My chest breaks and heals all at once.

I can’t lose her.

I won’t.

I stare into the darkness, the vow forming like a brand searing itself into me.

He won’t hurt her again. Not while I’m breathing.

I tighten my hold on her, the rhythm of her heartbeat against mine the only thing keeping me tethered. She has no idea what she’s unleashed in me.

And God help Joey, because when the time comes… I’ll make sure he regrets ever breathing the same air as her.

The rage simmers, sharp and unrelenting. But her warmth seeps deeper into me, softening the edges. Her breath brushes across my chest, steady and safe.

My eyes burn, heavy at last.

I press one more kiss to her hair and succumb to the exhaustion, holding her like a lifeline.