“I’m so cold,” I whisper.
“I know, baby.”
Then he reaches for me.
“I’m going to lift you.”
“Okay.”
“It may hurt.”
“I know.”
His jaw flexes.
“Did you get injured when he hit the car?” he asks.
“I don’t think so,” I say.
Nodding, he slides one arm behind my back and the other beneath my knees, then gathers me against his chest.
The moment his warmth surrounds me, another sob tears loose.
I bury my face in his neck.
“I was so scared.”
His arms tighten.
“I know.”
“I thought he killed Stefano.”
“He didn’t.”
“I thought he was going to take Livy from me.”
“He won’t.”
“I thought you wouldn’t find us.”
Maverick stops breathing for half a second.
Then his mouth presses to my temple.
“I will always find you.”
The words break whatever is left of me.
I cry against him as he carries me toward the stairs.
I cry because Livy is alive.
Because Stefano is alive.
Because Maverick came.
Because my friend was never my friend.
