Page 67 of From the Wreckage
Behind me, Bri whispers, “Everett…” Her voice is shaky and small. The sound only fuels me more.
I lean in closer, my words venomous. “You think you’ve seen me angry, Joey? You haven’t seen anything. I will burn the world to protect her.Myangel. Do you understand me?”
Joey’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
I release him with a final shove, and he stumbles, nearly tripping over the scattered books. He straightens, trying to salvage what pride he has left, but his glare falters under the weight of mine.
“Get. Out.”
For once, he listens.
He throws one last look at Bri—reminding me of an angry, wounded, and desperate animal—before storming off down the aisle and out the door.
My chest heaves, every muscle taut, my fists still aching to destroy him.
Silence hangs heavy between us, broken only by the faint hum of the overhead lights and my own ragged breathing. Joey’s footsteps fade, leaving nothing but the scattered books and the echo of his venom still ringing in my ears.
Bri releases my shirt and steps back. When I turn around to face her, she’s pale, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.Her chest rises and falls too fast, her hazel eyes wide, darting between the doorway Joey vanished through and me.
Guilt twists in my gut.Did I just terrify her as much as I scared him?
I take a step toward her, forcing my voice steady, even though I’m still shaking with rage. “Are you okay, angel?”
Her lips part, trembling. For a moment, she looks like she might bolt—or crumble. My heart stops.
Then she moves.
In two quick strides, she’s in my arms, burying herself against my chest like she needs to crawl inside me to feel safe. Her body shakes, but her fists clutch my shirt, holding me like I’m the only thing keeping her upright.
I exhale hard, my hand sliding to the back of her head, cradling her close. “I’ve got you,” I whisper into her hair, my voice raw. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again. Not while I’m breathing.”
Her answer isn’t in the form of words. It’s the way she presses closer, her face tucked against my neck, her tears hot against my skin. And I know, in this moment, she’s not scared of me. She’s clinging to me. Choosing me.
And God help me, I’ll burn everything down before I let her regret it.
CHAPTER 45
Brielle
My legs feellike they don’t belong to me. I’m trembling so hard I’m not sure how I’m standing at all. If Everett weren’t here—solid, immovable, blocking the memory of Joey’s grip with the reality of his warmth—I think I’d shatter.
He eases back just enough to catch my eyes, and then he does something that almost undoes me completely. He takes my hand. His grip is gentle but firm, guiding me toward the coffee counter like he’s steering me back into myself.
“Iced pumpkin spice latte,” he says to the barista without even looking at me, like he knows what I need before I can speak. Then he orders an iced coffee for himself.
When the drinks come, he sets mine in front of me, sliding into the chair across from me. He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t fill the silence. He just sits there, watching me with those warm brown eyes, steady as a lighthouse while my storm rages.
I take a shaky sip, the sweet and familiar flavor coating my tongue. After a few moments, the tremors start to ease. My breath evens out. My heart stops galloping.
Minutes pass like that, the hum of the café filling the space between us. And when I finally find my voice, it comes out small, but sure. “I have Dad’s truck.”
His jaw tightens, like he already knows what I’m going to say next.
“Will you…” I swallow hard, gripping the cup tighter. “Will you follow me home?”
His disappointment is instant, a flicker in his eyes, and the barest droop of his shoulders. He swallows hard, looking lost. It nearly breaks me.
Leaning forward, my voice is a conspiratorial whisper meant only for him. “Then take me back to your cabin?”
