Page 29 of These Jagged Edges

When I reach my truck, my heart sinks at the sight of the crushed cab. The only opening is a hole in the shattered windshield—my only way in. Desperation drives me as I crawl through, oblivious to the shards of glass slicing into my skin. All I can think about is getting to my baby.

I catch sight of her small body, slumped awkwardly, half hanging out of her car seat. She’s turned away from me, and my heart drops at the sight.

“It’s okay baby, Daddy’s here,” I tell her softly.

I gently unbuckle her chest straps and pull her tiny body to me.

I can't tell you how long I've been sitting outside, cradling her tiny body. The commotion of police, firefighters, and EMTs coming and going is a haze, their voices echo faintly in the background. I don’t remember who tried to talk to me or urged me to move. The only clarity in that moment is my mama suddenly sitting beside me on the cold, hard ground.

“Maddy,” my mama’s voice cracks.

“S-she’s gone,” I whisper to the one person in my world who understands the weight of what I’ve just lost.

Later, I learned that a semi-truck driver, three times over the legal alcohol limit, had T-boned us at over one hundred mph. In the aftermath, I realized with horror that I hadn’t properly adjusted Livvy’s chest straps; they had been pushed down, causing her little body to come out of her car seat causing her death.

Chapter Twelve

EVIE

Placing a hand over his heart,I try to soothe his pain. "What happened wasn't your fault." I watch another tear silently trail down his cheek, and my heart breaks even more. Maddox Wilder is a man torn apart. As much as his grief consumes him, his guilt keeps him imprisoned, preventing him from moving forward.

How could I have so easily misjudged him? Wanting to offer him a fraction of the comfort he's provided me, I sit on the edge of the couch and gently pull him to sit between my legs on the floor. After he sits down, I pull him back, dropping his arms over my legs, reveling in the heavy feel of him. I take his glasses and set them on the coffee table.

"Ev—"

"Shh." My hands rub up and down his arms and shoulders, massaging his neck. I continue to do this until I feel some tension leave his body, and even then, I don't stop.

"You've had me at war with myself for months," I tell him honestly. "I couldn't understand how I could be so afraidof you and yet drawn to you all at once. At first, your size scared me; then, it was all that anger you carry. It reminded me so much of his, I couldn't see past it and simply see you." I give Maddox the raw truth, ashamed that I ever compared him to that monster to begin with.

"Then I started to see you in all the little moments we've shared together. Every time you touch me, all I feel is peace, Maddox. You center me, and that's what has scares me most about you." I still my movements and lean close to whisper in his ear, "My heart knew you were the one that was going to flip my world inside out, but my heads had a hard time catching up." I take a breath and enjoy the gentle way he's been caressing the outside of my calves.

"Evie—"

"Shh, let me help you carry this," I hush him, letting my hands resume gliding along his olive skin.

I don't remember goingto sleep, but a tiny elbow to the ribs suddenly wakes me. Charlie and I are on the couch, covered up, and he's sound asleep on my side, stuck between the couch and myself. I sit up, looking to see what mischief Bash has gotten into.

"Sebastian!"

"In here fixin' dinner, mama!" he calls from the kitchen.

"Lord help me, Sebastian James, if that dog has a bowl of cereal!" I untangle myself from the tiny tornado on the couch and skid to a stop when I see Maddox, Vic, and Bash all in the kitchen. Vic and Maddox are working on the dishwasher while Bash stands on a chair at the stove, stirring something in a pot.

"What’s going on?"

“Evie Lynn Taylor, why didn’t you tell me the dishwasher stopped working? Two weeks ago, no less," Vic scolds.

I quickly look at the ground and avoid the acquisitioning gaze Vic is casting at me. "I forgot."

"No, you didn't, mama. You said you'd have Trip Waller look at it, and then Charlie said he wasn't coming in this house, or he'd kick his balls in his throat. Then you and Charlie had that evil stare-down, and we were late for school. Yet Again."

Little traitor! I think as he admiringly stirs whatever is in the pot.

"I said I'd kick his balls so far up his throat he'd cough for weeks," Charlie says from the doorway of the kitchen, yawning. I mean, that is what he said.

"Thank you for that, Vic. My children have the most colorful vocabulary now," I say sarcastically as possible.

"Why'd he threaten the man's balls like that?" Maddox asks Vic.

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