Page 75 of Knot a Bad Idea

I continue, anger replacing my nervousness.

“You couldn’t save her, and somehow, for some ridiculous reason, you think that will apply to April. That because your mother died, you think…you’re not good enough for her? That you won’t be able to help April if she needs it?”

“Shut thefuck up.” Donovan advances on me, but I’m too pissed off to care.

“How many times does April need to make it clear that you don’t need to save her, that caring about her is enough? Thatlovingher is enough?”

With another shove, Donovan pushes past me and back into the party.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.

I hate calling him that, but he’s been acting more and more like one every day.

Out of habit, I fish my phone out of my pocket, prepared to text April and wait for it to inevitably not go through.

But to my surprise, there’s a message from her fromten minutes ago.

My blood runs cold when I read it.

I don’t knowwhy the hell the mansion is set up like this, but the bathroom is criminally far away from everything else.

I run to it, ignoring the confused looks that everyone gives me. April’s scent blooms in the dark hallway, her sweetness mixed with a sour lemon note.

I knock on the wooden door. “April?” I call out gently.

“Liam?” her voice chokes out, and my heart breaks. “I can’t—I can’t open the—the door?—”

“It’s okay, baby, I got it,” I soothe, trying the knob.

It doesn’t budge, and I’m not waiting one more second to get to her.

“Stand back, baby, okay? I’m going to break it down.”

Her hiccupping sobs sound from behind the door. “You don’t—have to—I’m sorry?—”

It takes two good kicks, but the door comes off its hinges.

April is crumpled on the bathroom floor, her blood red gown piling around her.

She was in here forten minutes.

I’m on the floor with her in an instant, pulling her into my arms as she trembles.

“I’m here,” I say in a hushed voice. “I’m here. It’s me, Liam.”

But she just sobs into my neck, and I’m grateful we’re far away from everyone else so I can hold her and let her cry in peace.

Every sound is a knife to my heart.

“I’m—sorry—” she chokes out, but I hush her, stroking her hair.

“It’s just us,” I murmur. “Let it out. You’re safe.”

I rock her back and forth in my arms, breathing in her sweet aroma and purring for her. After what feels like an eternity, her sobs quiet, and her breath comes easy.

She pulls away from me, and my chest tightens.

Don’t push away from me, not now…

---