Page 69 of Picture Perfect

"Shaken, not stirred," I manage to quip, trying to slow the rapid beat of my heart.

"Good." Saint's relief is palpable, his hold tightening just a fraction more. "Let's get you out of here."

Chess and Gen appear at his shoulder, looking me over with concern. I offer a sad smile. "I don't think I like parties."

Chapter thirty-three

Chess

The bass from the party throbs against my chest like an accusation, a rhythmic reminder of how I screwed up. I glance at Addy, her green eyes wide and reflecting the lights that spill from the doorway. She's safe, but that's luck, not because of anything I did. The anger coils in me, tight and hot, and before she can protest, I scoop Addy into my arms. Her blonde hair brushes against my forearm as I carry her out into the cooler night air.

"Chess, put me down," she insists, her voice muffled against my chest.

"Can't," I grunt, surging forward with her held close. "Just...can't."

We reach the car, and I gently set her on her feet, cursing myself for every second she was out of my line of sight. Anything could have happened. My heart hammers with a mix of fear and fury, the dark edge of my nature pulling at me.

Dre, with those ice blue eyes that miss nothing, flashes a knowing look before he turns his attention to Gen. "You're in front, Gen. I'm sitting with them." His voice brooks no argument, and somehow, it feels like he's got my back.

"Whatever," Gen says with a roll of her eyes, but she listens, taking the front seat without further complaint.

Dre slides in behind me, his presence dominating as I help Addy into the car, tucking her into the seat as if she's made of glass. I don't look at him, but I can feel the heat from his body, the way his gaze seems to burn holes into the side of my head.

"Are you okay?" I ask Addy, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. I need her to be okay.

"Yeah, Chess, I'm fine," she replies.

"Good," I breathe out, relief flooding through me, though the anger remains, a beast prowling just beneath the surface of my skin.

I click the seatbelt into place, securing Addy beside me. My hand lingers on her thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin below the edge of her dress. I can’t seem to let go; it’s as if by holding onto her, I can keep her safe, keep her mine.

"Snowflake," Dre's voice is a low growl from the other side of her. "What the hell were you thinking? Taking off like that?"

She shifts uncomfortably, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "I was just going to the bathroom. I didn't think—"

"Exactly," I cut in, my voice harsher than I intend. "You didn't think about what could've happened." The words are like acid in my throat, because they're true and because they’re unfair. She shouldn’t have to always be thinking of the dangers lurking around every corner. But she should know she’s not alone anymore.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and there’s a tremble in her voice that rips right through me.

"Sorry isn't enough, Addy," I say, trying to soften my tone. "We can't... You can't just wander off. What if we lost you?"

"Preston isn't just going to let this shit go," Dre adds, his eyes dark pools of concern and something more primal. He's as wired as I am, ready to pounce, protect, possess.

"Nothing happened. I'm fine." Her defense is weak, and she knows it.

"Nothing?" I echo, incredulous. "Addy, if that asshole had gotten a hold of you—."

"This time. Nothing happened this time," Dre says, leaning forward until he's almost hovering over us both. "You don't wander off alone. We look out for each other. That's how this works."

She nods, biting her lip, and I feel the tension coiled within me ease just a fraction. Not because of her apology, but because despite everything, she's here with us, unharmed. And I swear to myself that I won't let my guard down again. Not when it comes to her.

“Who was that asshole?” Saint demands from the front seat.

“I don’t know,” Addy shrugs. “He said he’d been watching me.”

“Ew,” Gen chimes in. “What a fucking creep.”

I turn her face toward me, the streetlight streaming through the car window casting shadows across her delicate features. "Look at me, Addy," I urge, my thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. Her green eyes meet mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them—fear, relief, defiance, a hint of confusion.

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