Page 136 of The Road Less Traveled By

I think that hurts Bree more than the restraints. She has to heal from tonight, from what he did the first time, from everything in between.

She’s strong. She’ll heal, and I’ll be with her every step of the fucking way.

I love her, and I’m going to do everything in my power to show her that after all this, I can still love her as much as I did before. I’ll love her through every panic attack, through every bad dream, through every good memory we create together. Maybe those will override the bad ones in the future.

I can only hope.

“Are you okay?” Liv asks but then stammers a second later. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Liv knows the answer already, and she can see the bruises on her neck. She probably has déjà vu, and I can see the fresh tears on her face, Tristan’s too. He looks at my hands, then back up at my eyes, a question in his eyes that he doesn't dare speak.

Is that from Ralph’s face?

I only nod back at him, and he does the same to me before the EMT returns.

“Your vitals look okay. Besides the elevated heart rate and scrapes on your wrists and ankles, you’ll be fine,” the EMT says before she packs some things away. “I’m recommending you go to the hospital to get your throat checked out and—”

Bree’s head shakes in my arms.

“No need for a hospital,” Nico says. “I have a specialist coming who can check Bree out at home.”

“In a different room?” I ask Nico, wanting to make sure Bree doesn't get panicked walking back into the room where Ralph took her.

“Of course. She’ll meet us at the house.”

“T-Thanks, Nico,” Bree whispers.

“Anything for you, Bree. You should know that by now.” Nico motions for us to leave, and we follow him to the car, Bree still in my arms because I can’t bear to put her down.

I almost lost her. I almost lost the most important person in my life tonight.

And if I had walked into that house a few minutes later, a few seconds later, she might not be here. Her heart might not be beating in her chest, and everything that made my world bright, colorful, and beautiful would’ve been gone.

My beautiful fucking angel.My beautiful Bree. The only girl I’ll ever love.

A fighter.

Asurvivor.

Chapter forty-two

— FAITHFULLY BY JOURNEY

“This might sting alittle,” the doctor says as she massages my throat. It feels like I have sandpaper in my airway, and suddenly, I’m catapulted back to the last time I felt like this.

It’s over,I remind myself. Ralph can’t hurt me anymore. Vince made sure of that when he punched his face in.

For me. He did that forme, and I don't know how I’ll thank him for saving my life.

But I feel just as broken as before, like I’m watching all this happen from outside my body. I don't know how to get back. I don't know how to go back to normal after this. What is normal? What does it mean to be normal? I’ve got no fucking clue, but with Vince and my family by my side, I’ll get through it. I know I can. I just have to trust they’re at the table with me. They’ll carry some of the weight because they love me.

They stayed with me through all this. They love me, and when they need me to sit at the table with them in the future, I’ll be the first one in my chair. After all they’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.

Ralph is gone. Now, maybe I can move in the right direction without worrying about the other shoe dropping.

The doctor finishes her assessment and scribbles a few things down on a piece of paper before she hands it to Vince.

“I’m prescribing some medicine to help with the pain. Keep her hydrated, maybe tea with lots of honey, and try some lozenges to help with coughing and her voice. It should heal over the next few weeks.” She looks at me. “Try not to overuse your voice, and you’ll be fine. The bruises should heal and put some ointment on your wrists and ankles to help those.”

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