Page 194 of Hold Me Until Morning

It’d been his saving grace, though—the fact that he hadn’t been inside the truck when the explosive had gone off. I had to believe Pruitt knew I was supposed to have been attending a meeting this evening. That he somehow knew that I wouldn’t be leaving with Cody that evening.

But how?

Grief crawled around in my chest, slithering like a snake, the sensation sticky and gross.

Tears pricked behind my eyes.

I fought to hold them back.

“And they shot me full of something that made me feel just fine.” Cody tossed another grin at me as we ambled up the walkway and onto the porch.

He’d left the hospital against medical advice since they’d wanted him to stay overnight for observation. But he’d refused, insisting that he needed to be home with me and Maddie and Lolly, which only made me worry more.

I stayed right at his side, hands fumbling as I tried to keep him steady, even though he was standing just fine.

But what if he hadn’t been?

Sorrow bound, clotting off oxygen. I wheezed around it.

“If I went tumbling onto my ass right now, Hailey, I’d be taking you down with me,” he teased. “I wouldn’t stand so close if I were you.”

“Liar,” I muttered under my breath.

We crossed the porch, our footsteps thudding on the wooden planks.

We stopped in front of the door, and I tipped my face up to him.

“Liar,” I whispered again.

Confusion pinched his brow.

“You would absolutely be standing right here, holding me up, if the tables were turned.”

Understanding dawned, and his smirk softened, his smile going so tender that I ached. “Of course, I would, darlin’.”

“Then don’t ask me not to stand by you.”

I turned and unlocked the door.

It was close to midnight, and it was silent inside.

Maddie had gone to sleep hours ago, having no clue there’d been any issue, while Lolly had texted me incessantly until about ten when I’d finally convinced her Cody was okay.

If only I could convince myself of the same thing.

Cody had demanded that I not call his family. He wanted to be the one to do it. To be able to go to them and tell them he was okay without them running to the ER terrified.

I’d tried to argue and tell him they would want to know—that they deserved to know—because they loved him.

Loved him fiercely.

But he’d asked this one thing of me so I had to respect it.

We kept our footsteps quieted as we stepped inside, and I deadbolted the lock behind us.

Anguish fisted my spirit.

The truth of what this had come to. That reshaping. The reforming.

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