Page 66 of All of You

He hugged me to him, kissed my hair, and pulled back to drill those blue eyes straight into mine. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you posted.”

It was minutes after he’d gone before my heart slowed. The adrenaline, the fear wrapped up in worrying for someone I didn’t even know, proved surprising. I hadn’t ever had a friend in such a bad place I was worried about them like this, and now, I was worried for Ben’s friend, someone I hadn’t ever even met.

And what did it say about him that he would drop everything and go search for her, someone he wasn’t related to and who he was only sort of friends with, from what he’d said?

He refused the title of hero flatly whenever the press tried to saddle him with it, but in this moment, as I sat wringing my hands, I couldn’t help but feel he was. He was, both for what he’d done to try to save his friend, for surviving the journey to get back to a place where he could function, and for insisting on being there for the people he loved.

His compassion, his empathy, his heart were beautiful. And damn if I didn’t want to be one of those people.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Ben

Bec was fine.

Thank God.

I glared at Thatcher who had his arms crossed, his back hunched into himself as Bec all but yelled at us.

“Just because I don’t respond right away doesn’t mean I’m about to harm myself! Just because I have chosen not to return your calls…” She glared at Thatcher, her eyes so full of anger, I would have withered if I was him.

Which, he kind of was.

Hands on her hips, the dramatic pause lingered, and then she continued. “And don’t think I don’t know what you thought had happened. I am not suicidal. I am not even depressed. I am making some big life decisions, and I will thank you very much to mind. Your. Own. Business.”

Thatcher shook his head. He was visibly upset, not unusual when it came to Bec, but I was surprised by just how little he was locking it down. “We?—”

“I don’t want to hear how you’ve taken on the job of watching out for me. I don’t want that. I lost my brother, and I didn’t sign up for two more.”

She stomped her way over to the bar of her kitchen where she deposited her empty wine glass. She turned back to us and folded her arms, as though waiting for us to leave.

“You aren’t going to tell us about these big life decisions?” I asked, genuinely curious, and hoping we could move out of the fury and into a normal conversation.

“Definitely not.” Her chin jutted out proudly, just like Dillon used to do.

Good grief, he was an arrogant ass.

It was one of those moments where remembering made me smile and ache at the same time.

Thatcher took a breath, let it out, ran his hands over his face. “Bec, please?—”

“You need to leave. Now. And I will talk to you both at some later date when I don’t feel like the most likely result of our conversation will be my incarceration for murder.” Her voice still shook with rage.

“Okay, we’re going. But if you don’t call within a week, we’re coming back,” I said as a not-entirely-mock threat.

That made her dark eyebrows flash to her hairline. “You will do no such thing, Ben Holder. If I have to call your fancy little girlfriend and have her chain you down, you know I’ll do it. Do not mess with me on this. I will call you when I’m good and damn well ready, and you’ll be just dandy with that, clear?”

I let my brow furrow and tucked my lips between my teeth to keep from smiling. This was perfect. This was what I wanted to see—she was spitting mad, take no prisoners, Bec-with-a-vengeance, and she was fine. Not healed completely, but she was good.

“Yes, ma’am.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Thatcher nodding.

I moved to her door and opened it, but turned back to her. “You know we love you, and that’s why we’re here?”

Her shoulders slumped a little, and she looked me in the eye when she said, “I know it.”

Her eyes flickered to Thatch’s and held there, both of them locked in a moment I didn’t fully understand, but had begun to lately.

Thatcher clenched his jaw, and with a little nod to Bec, followed me out of her place.

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