Page 68 of Welded Defender
Three feet from the porch, hinges squeak. Wes materializes in a rectangle of golden light, arms spread wide acrossthe doorframe, teeth flashing beneath eyes that sparkle with something between triumph and relief. “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.”
I don’t have time to answer because Nova barrels past him with a squeal, nearly knocking me back down the steps. “You’re here!” she cries, squeezing me so tight my ribs protest.
I laugh and hug her back, even as my throat tightens. “I’m here.”
Behind her, Becket leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, expression unreadable as always—but I could swear a smile almost tugs at the corners of his mouth.
Joon lingers further back, shoulders pressed to the wall, hands buried in his pockets. When our gazes meet, his chin dips once, the movement barely there. Something in my chest loosens, like a knot I’d forgotten was tied.
The warmth inside hits me harder than the cold outside. The smell of coffee, wood smoke, something fried and familiar. I step over the threshold, and the door closes behind me with a soft click. For the first time since I left, I don’t feel like I’m hovering between worlds.
“You gave us a damn heart attack,” Wes says, dropping onto the arm of the couch. “Next time you feel like disappearing, maybe just, I don’t know, text?”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Nova swats him. “Leave her alone. She came back, that’s what matters.” She looks at me, eyes bright. “I’m so glad you came back.”
Ravi appears at my elbow, his familiar sandalwood cologne wrapping around me before his arm does. The weight of it settles across my shoulders, solid and reassuring.
“We all are,” he says.
I try to speak, but my throat narrows, tightens. I stare at the worn floorboards, at the same knot in the wood I used to tracewith my toe during movie nights. “When I heard about Landon, I—” The rest disappears. I press my palm against my sternum, willing the pressure there to ease.
Ravi’s arm slips away, and before the cold air can rush in, Landon’s takes its place. His flannel shirt scratches my cheek as he pulls me against him, his heartbeat steady under my ear. “I’m just fine,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my hair. The room falls so silent I can hear the fire pop in the grate.
Becket shifts his weight, boot sole squeaking against the floorboard. He clears his throat, eyes darting between us. “So no more police?”
“No more coming after me anyway,” Landon answers before I can. “Station confirmed the footage matched what happened. They’ve got a warrant out for Brett now.”
The relief that ripples through the room is sharp, but it doesn’t erase the tension that follows. Because Brett isn’t gone. Not yet.
“He’ll come back,” I say quietly. “He always comes back.”
For a beat, nobody argues.
Then Wes exhales. “Good thing we’re not easy to scare off.”
Ravi nods in agreement.
Nova straightens. “So what do we do now?”
It’s Landon who answers, his voice steady. “We keep our guard up. Cameras are live. Alarms are set. No one’s at the shop alone until he’s in custody.” His eyes find mine, unwavering. “Especially Marcy.”
I bristle instinctively—because I hate feeling like a burden—but the warmth in his gaze softens the sting. He doesn’t mean fragile. He means important.
Becket pushes off the wall, pacing slowly. “He’s already escalated. Threatened you,” he says to Landon. “If he feels like he’s losing control, he’ll get desperate.”
“He’s already desperate,” I whisper.
That silences the room again.
Nova slips her arm through mine. “We’ve got your back.”
Her reassurance steadies me in a way I didn’t expect. I squeeze her hand.
Wes clears his throat dramatically, breaking the tension. “Well, since we’re all apparently going to be glued together like kindergarten craft projects, we’d better stock up. You can’t face down a psycho ex on an empty stomach.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. It’s shaky, but it’s real. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”
