Page 108 of Walkoff Wedding

I don’t watch as officers haul Brent off the curb or even as they handcuff Dixon and put them both in the back of the cop car. I don’t watch as they pull away, the lights fading in the distance.

I simply close my eyes and lean into Grant as he wraps the blanket around us as we sit in the back of the ambulance. The adrenaline of everything that’s happened tonight begins to fade, leaving me raw with a hundred tumultuous emotions.

Sagging against Grant’s chest, I bury my face into his shirt as the first sob racks my body. I’m emotionally and physically spent, exhaustion seeping into my bones and making my entire body feel heavy.

I feel the soft press of his lips against my hair, his arms tightening around me, holding me through the pent-up release of hurt as it flows out of me.

I lost so much tonight, more than I can even wrap my head around right now. But there’s one thing I gained out of all the hurt, pain, and manipulation I’ve endured.

The love of my life.

In this life and every life.

chapter thirty

Grant

Addie fought exhaustion until the sun had begun to rise, painting the living room in warm morning rays. The shock and adrenaline of the night had worn off, and she passed out, curled into my side, her fingers wound tightly in mine as if she was terrified I’d let her go.

The entire time I washed the smoke and ash from her hair, her body shook with heartbroken sobs that nearly fucking killed me.

It made my chest physically ache. She’s my wife, the woman I love more than anything, and I feel so goddamn helpless. I’d do anything in the world to switch places with her and take her pain away. Without hesitation. Without thought.

I’ve been sitting here ever since she fell asleep, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, her eyelids fluttering every time she shifts restlessly, a soft sigh floating from her parted lips. I could spend the rest of the day watching her sleep because it’s the reassurance I need that she’s here.

Fuck, I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened if Addie had been inside the bakery or if she had run in there and tried to stop the fire.

She could’ve been hurt or worse.

I could’ve lost her. I could’ve lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and just the thought of something happening to her makes me physically fucking ill. Makes my stomach twist into a knot so tight that it’s hard to breathe.

I force myself to focus on her sleeping beside me and try not to let my mind wander. The last thing she needs is me losing my shit over what could have happened.

There’s a knock at the front door, pulling my attention from Addie. Carefully, I untangle her from my lap, pushing to my feet off the couch, then heading for the door.

When I swing it open, Davis is on the other side, and my brows shoot up in surprise. It’s got to be early as shit, although I’m not entirely sure because I haven’t checked my phone in a while.

“Dude, I’ve called you a hundred times. I heard about the bakery on socials. Is Addie okay? Is it salvageable? Shit, I’ve been freaking the fuck out.” His face is lined with worry as he speaks, and I’ve never heard him so worked up.

“We’re both okay. The bakery… we don’t know anything yet. We probably won’t for a few days. Addie’s fucking distraught, dude,” I mutter, reaching up to drag my hand down my face. “Come in, we can talk in the kitchen. She finally fell asleep on the couch, and I don’t want to wake her.”

He nods, following me inside after shutting the door quietly. Once we’re in the kitchen, he sits down next to me at the table, and I drop my head in my hands.

I’m fucking exhausted. Not just physically but mentally after everything that’s happened tonight.

“What happened?” Davis asks.

“Her stepfather got arrested for arson. He’s been working with this dickhead that he tried to set her up with, and I don’t know. It was some crazy shit to try and get the insurance money for the bakery.”

My hands tighten into fists at the thought, and my knuckles groan in protest. Fuck, I barely even remember hitting him. I was so fucking mad that I just reacted, and given the chance, I’d do it again. He deserved that and more for the shit he put my wife through.

“Shit, man,” Davis says with a shake of his head, his unruly auburn hair falling in his face. He brushes it out of his eyes and sits back in the chair. “Are you okay?”

For a beat, I’m quiet because I truthfully don’t know the answer to that.

“It scared the fuck out of me, Davis.” My voice cracks with emotion. “The thought of losing her scares me so much I can’t fucking breathe. I just want her to never have to deal with this shit again. It’s my job to protect her.”

He leans close, placing his palm on my shoulder. “And you are. Shit like this just puts things into a different perspective. You love her, and you both went through some scary shit—of course you’d feel this way. She’s your girl, and it’s natural that you want to shoulder all the bad things.”

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