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But he wasn’t there, and I miss him so much right now. My body is aching, yearning for just another moment of his time and attention. Another Ty Beauford hug. They were always so perfect, full of comfort and warmth and security.
I cover my face with my hands, my legs buckling under the weight of my sorrow. Liam catches me against him, pulling me into a hug.
“So, where did that asshole go?” Ethan asks, his voice gruff. “How’d you scare him off?”
“Oh, well, that was easier than I thought it’d be.” Mick’s voice perks up, and I peek between my fingers to watch her grin. “The second he grabbed Rachel’s hair and tried to punch her, I rushed up behind him and kicked him right in the balls.” She lifts her chin in pride. “That bag of ass didn’t even see me coming. Crumpled like a rag doll and started whimpering. Had to cradle his junk as he staggered away.” She laughs out the last few words.
“It was actually quite beautiful,” I rasp. “You scared the hell out of him. His face just… I mean, I was kind of too in shock at the time to appreciate it, but… lil’ mouse”—I smile at my bestie—“you’re a fucking queen.”
Emilia clears her throat, obviously not appreciating my language, while Mikayla starts to laugh. It’s a quiet snicker at first but then turns into a loud burst of sound that’s maybe tinged with a little crazy. Yeah, she’s still in shock too.
We all are.
Because of me.
CHAPTER 26
LIAM
Rachel can’t seem to stop crying, which is killing me.
Her tears are silent now, trickling down her cheeks while Mikayla laughs like a hyena. I share a worried frown with Ethan. He gives me a small nod, and as always, I’m grateful he can read my mind.
Sweeping Rachel into my arms, I murmur our goodbyes and head toward the privacy of our suite. Ethan will be following shortly, but I just want to get Rachel somewhere safe and secure. I know that’s what she’s waiting for—a chance to really fall apart.
And it happens as soon as her bedroom door clicks shut. I lay her down on the bed, and her silent tears turn to gut-wrenching sobs.
It’s torture watching her, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving.
Lying down beside her, I rest her head on my chest and hold her tight while she lets it all out.
She talks through her tears, words wobbling out of her in barely coherent spurts.
“I just stood there while he hit her.”
“Why couldn’t I help her?”
“I was useless.”
I try to comfort her. “You called us. You did what you could to help.”
“I should have done more,” she whimpers. “Mick’s face. That bruise on her cheek. It looks so painful.”
Brushing my lips across her forehead, I run my fingers into her hair, noticing her flinch.
“You sore?” I lighten my touch as I investigate the back of her head.
“He pulled my hair pretty hard.”
Rage rockets through me.
“It’s just a bit tender.” She tries to play it down.
I stop touching her scalp, forcing myself to bury my anger. She doesn’t need to see it. She doesn’t need to know how thick these vibrations are. They pound through my body—a medley of indignation and fury.
How dare that fucker touch her again.
How dare he hurt her. Scare her. Make her cry this way.
