Page 83 of One More Time

The next thing I knew, I had Cal driving just in case we needed a getaway car. I instructed Jamie to record no matter what. We followed Maps to Million Dollar Row.

The eerie silence of the house did nothing to quell my anxiety but the one thing I knew was that I was not letting the world take another person from me. Not now, not ever.

Jarman and his father were out of the car with us, and we entered the home, thankful the front door was unlocked. I followed the sound of a doorknob rattling until one swung open, revealing my man—covered in blood.My mood reflected the red that splattered Hunter’s crisp white top.

Like exposing a weakness on the ice, I had to expose his father in order to secure my goal: to have Hunter free of his wrath once and for all.

With his final jerky nod, I knew we won. I rushed to Hunter, who was pale and bleeding. I had seen so many things in my life—my dad in a casket, my mum wasting away, but seeing his broken gaze and blood covering every inch of him broke me. I took him in my arms and Jarman was quick to help me with his weight.

“I’ve got you, babe,” I whispered in his ear. “I have you.”

“I want to go home.”

His father needed to see my man walk out; he needed to see he couldn’t break him. “Use me as support and walk out of here, babe, one last time. Then it’s done. You won, babe. It’s you and me from here on out.”

Glazed golden eyes looked back at me, and even though I knew he was in pain, he stood proud as we made our way out of the house that had been his prison.

As we got to the pavement, Jarman’s father called out to us, “Get Cal to follow me; we’ll get him checked out properly.”

I nodded and slid into the back of the car. Hunter’s head fell into my lap, and he looked up at me with tears streaking the blood that coated his face.

“You came.”

“Always.”

My hand brushed his blood-soaked hair off his face, noting the cut above his eyebrow—the one that used to be just a scar. I shifted, pulling off my cardigan, and blotted his head with it. Hunter didn’t even wince, just looked at me like I was the only person in the world.

“I’m free.”

“You’re free, babe, now to get you healed so you can finish out one last season with me.”

He sighed. “Why does it have to be the last?”

Chapter forty-five

Hunter

Ididn’t really want to be sitting in that ER—and neither did Tyler. But that didn’t stop him from sticking by my side the entire time. I could only imagine what this was like for him. He held my hand every second he could and if he was struggling, it didn’t show. Other than worrying his bottom lip as they checked me out, he was my rock. I was cleared with nothing more than a minor concussion and a few cracked ribs. I got stitches just above my brow yet again, which had been sewn up too many times in my lifetime. After I gave a few reports, I was finally released.

Tyler visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief as we stepped through the sliding glass doors. Snow fell around us and we’d barely cleared the threshold before I stood from the stupid, mandatory wheelchair and closed in on Tyler. I pulled his chin up so he would look at me, his turquoise eyes glistening with tears.

“Baby…"

“You fucking scared the shit out of me, Boston.” The waver in his voice was like a knife to my heart. Despite how every move sent ripples of pain through my body, I held him close. He fisted my blood-soaked shirt tight, careful not to put his full weight on me. It would have been so easy to say how I felt right then and there. But I didn’t—we’d been through too much that day and my brain hadn’t had a chance to catch up.

“Lets go home,” I said as I saw Jarman waiting patiently. We both got in the backseat and I clicked myself in the middle, resting my head on Tyler’s shoulder. Somewhere between the methodical movement of his fingers in my hair and the slow hum of the engine, I fell asleep.

My Aussie woke me up with a gentle kiss on my forehead when we got to the dorm. I leaned over the middle console and patted Jarman on the shoulder. I hadn’t gotten a glimpse of myself, but Jarman’s sympathetic eyes had me believing I looked like utter shit—which wasn’t far off from how I felt. The cold air hit my body in all the wrong places, my aching muscles tensing in protest to the frigid air. I bit back a groan as the pain flushed through my body in a wave that was enough to warm me up from the cold. Tyler didn’t miss a beat, throwing my arm over his shoulder and helping me into the small two-bedroom apartment that had become more of a home than my million-dollar mansion.

Once we were in Tyler’s dorm, I stood back as he checked on Jamie and tucked him in a little tighter before guiding me to the bathroom. Both of us too exhausted to speak, Tyler stripped me to my underwear and began running a cloth under warm water.

He gently brought the warm cloth to my bare skin, attempting to wipe away the evidence of the night. I watched as he took care of me, sparkling eyes taking in every mark and wiping the excess blood and iodine. I noticed the bruise blooming on his cheek and my blood began to boil. I kissed the mark, like my love could heal what my father did to him.

He turned his head just for a moment, resting his temple against mine, and breathing me in. I had no doubt I didn’t smell great but if it bothered him, he didn’t say. I watched as he found strength in himself to pull away, and then he left. I stood there wondering if that was it, if I was supposed to find him, or stay put and wait for him to return.

His quiet footfalls heading back in my direction somehow made me smile because my baby had grace even without the ice around him. He came in holding a chair, which he placed in front of the sink. “Sit,” he commanded.

So, I did.

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