“What’s going on?” my father says.
“Jude’s stuck inside,” Mom explains as the door handle rattles again.
“I’m the restaurant manager, don’t worry, I know how to fix it,” a man says.
“Thank goodness,” my father says. “She faints in enclosed spaces.”
I shake my head. That happened once in a busy subway carriage when I was fifteen, but he’s never let me forget about it, telling me it could all have been avoided if I’d been more hydrated.
The door rattles again and the manager curses. “This usually works.”
“Move aside,” Slade instructs. “Jude?”
“Yeah?”
“Step back from the door.”
“What are you going to do?” the restaurant manager asks.
“I’m getting her out. You heard her father, she might faint. I’m not leaving her in there alone when she’s in danger.”
I suck in a breath at his rough commanding tone that leaves no room for argument. Because hidden within it is a hint of the panic that was there when he screamed after me for jumping off that cliff.
He’s worried about me being trapped in here.
“I’m fine,” I call through the door.
“You’re trapped!” he hollers back with far more force than I expect.
I clasp a hand over my mouth as realization slams into me.
I’m trapped, like his mother was on the boat when he had to leave her. Before the fire…
“I’m okay,” I call again, the worry for what he must be feeling making my voice come out shaky and emotional.
“She’s not okay in there… Jesus Christ,” I hear him say to the others.
The door shakes in its frame as an almighty crash slams into it, bowing the wood in the center.
“What are you doing? That’s my door!” the manager shouts.
“And that’s my girl in there, so get the hell out of my way!”
The door’s hit with force again.
It flies open, accompanied by the sound of shattered metal hitting the floor.
“Jude!”
Slade gathers me up in his arms in a rush, cradling my head and kissing my hair over and over. “Are you okay?” He leans back and checks me over.
“I’m fine,” I choke, the sight of him so triggered by what’s happened making tears spring to my eyes.
How could he ever think what happened to his mom was his fault? He would have fought even harder to make it back to his mother than he just did to get to me.
My eyes fall to the door that’s been reduced to a splintered pile of destroyed wood. It’s evidence of how hard he fights if he needs to.
“Jude.” His eyes pinch at the corners as he thumbs away my tears, mistaking them for scared ones. “You’re okay, Baby.” He pulls me into another hug. “You’ll never be trapped with me, okay? I’ll break down anything that stands between us. You don’t need to worry.”
