Page 57 of Dallas
Arianna says nothing, calmly waiting for the idiots to shut the fuck up. She won’t be intimidated by them. She isn’t here to answer questions. She’s going to make a statement, and that’s it.
It takes a while for the press to realize they’re wasting their collective breath, and finally, a hush falls over the crowd.
Arianna clears her voice and stands tall. Her hair is down, and she tucks several unruly curls behind her ears. “My name is Arianna Blythe. I legally changed my name to that seven years ago to avoid a day like this.”
I’m beaming behind her. She sounds so strong.
“Yes, I was born Alexandra Whitacker. My parents were Joseph and Evangeline Whitaker. My father was the governor of Florida ten years ago when he succumbed to mental illness and took his life, as well as my mother’s. I was fifteen years old. I was not home at the time. There is nothing I can say that will answer anyone’s questions about the matter because that’s the nature of mental illness. No one knows what happened that day to make my father snap. We will never know. I can’t and won’t provide any more information than I’m giving you right now. I created a new identity and left Florida because I deserve to live in peace. I’m sorry for my role in disturbing the tranquil community of Wilde. But I will not be intimidated by the press. I will not make any further statements. I will not answer any questions because I do not have the answers people seek.”
Arianna takes a deep breath, lowers her gaze to the three men holding mics, and continues. “Please, leave this town and do not return. You will never get more information from me than you have right now. You will only infuriate the folks of Wilde. Thank you.”
When she turns toward me, I grab her hips and lift her off the chair. I glance at the sheriff and find that he and his deputies are clearing a path so we can get to my car. I hurry my woman to the vehicle, help her into the passenger side, and jog around to get behind the wheel.
Shockingly, the press has backed off. They appear to be in a huddle, all three networks talking to each other. The rest of the town is applauding and retreating so we can get out of the parking lot.
I don’t bother to stick around to find out what happens next. I want to get my girl home where she will have the protection of my family and the guarded estate. Hopefully, we will never have to deal with something like this again, but if we do, we will face it together.
Arianna doesn’t say anything on the drive home, but she doesn’t slump or cry either. She sits tall and maintains a fierce expression.
When we get home, Claire is waiting at the back door. Ryder hadn’t let her come into town with him. I’m not surprised. There was no way of knowing whether the situation would have become unsafe or not. It could have gone far worse than it did.
Claire pulls Arianna into her arms. Gretchen joins the women and rubs Arianna’s back. “You poor child. Let me make you some tea.”
I smile. Gretchen loves taking care of all of us. It’s food for her soul. There’s no sense arguing with her. It’s best to let her make the tea.
“It was on the news,” Claire informs us when she releases Arianna.
“Already?” Ryder asks, having entered the house on our heels.
Brody hasn’t made it back yet.
Claire nods. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”
“Did they say anything after Arianna’s speech?” I ask.
Claire smiles. “They cut to the studio where the anchors expressed their compassion for her and agreed that she deserved peace.”
I blow out a breath. “Thank God.”
Brody comes in a few minutes later. He’s grinning. “Seems like the entire town is behind you, squirt. They surrounded the media vans until every last one of them packed up and drove out of town. Then they went back to their lives.”
Arianna slumps against me. “Do you think they’ll forgive me?”
“I don’t think there’s anything to forgive, baby. If there was, they already have.” I bend down and sweep her off her feet. “You need a nap.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not a child.”
“Nope. You’re definitely not. You’re my girl, though, and you’ve been through a lot today. You need a nap.” I carry her upstairs, tug the covers back, and deposit her on the edge of the bed.
She doesn’t fight me as I remove her shoes and jeans. I leave the rest of her clothes on and help her recline so I can pull the covers up. I kiss her temple. “Rest, baby. We’re getting married tomorrow. You won’t get much sleep for the next few days.”
She giggles. “Lie with me?”
I climb up behind her, spoon her, wrap my arm around her, and hold her close. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 22
