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“Going to take a lot more to make me leave you. Just a skull fracture, I should be healed up in no time. I’m more worried about you. You’ve been alone, talking to the police.”
She shakes her head. “Liam found me, sat with me. And a lawyer. Not that there are charges being filed. My story was corroborated the minute they talked to Nikolai’s nephew, and someone else in the department who helped him do some background snooping on me and my father’s property. He was tracking us from some location software he put on my phone when I went to report the first break-in. I hadn’t even noticed. They have evidence of him trying to set up a getaway plan because … I’m so sorry, baby. He threatened to … he said he’d go after you if I told anyone.”
Cassandra begins to cry again.
“The night he attacked me in the alleyway, he told me to put half a million dollars in cash down at a kayak shack by the river. And that if I told anyone, he’d take you from me. I didn’t know what I was going to do yet, whether I’d try to fight it or just give in and see if he kept his word. Now I know he never would have settled for anything more than me being gone. He was there to collect because his nephew beat him to the punch and we were on his scent. The desperation was palpable. The pure evil, the hatred he had for me … it was all over what my father did to his family business. The same story from high school.”
“None of which is your fault.” I pull her to me even though it’s agony on my head. “You did everything you could, you protected us. I wish you would have told me, but it doesn’t matter now. We’re here, we’re safe. We’re going to get through this together.”
Because I might have to physically heal, but the tougher part will be Cassandra’s. This will stick with her, there is no way it won’t. Even if self-defense and necessity are on her side, she’ll still carry this weight. This guilt of taking a life. And I’ll be with her every step.
“I can’t believe you’re okay.” She hugs me tighter like I might slip away.
“Thanks to you. You’re so brave. So amazing. I love you.”
“I love you so much,” she whispers, ducking her head into the crook of my neck.
“We’ll give you two some time to rest.” Mom and Dad bend down to kiss both of us on the forehead, and I know for sure Cassandra is one of their own now.
“My agent is on his way from LA to do damage control.” She groans. “Because this will be picked up. I’m so sorry about all of it, Patrick. We’ll have to keep reliving this nightmare, and—”
“I don’t care.” I lift her chin with two fingers so she’ll look at me. “The only thing I care about is you. That you’re safe, that the person who wanted to hurt you is out of the picture. My life was nothing before you, I can see that now. You’ve brought me everything I knew I wanted, and now I get to spend the rest of my days making you happy. Making our dreams come true. Can’t you see? I don’t care about any of the hard stuff because I want it all with you.”
Her lower lip wobbles with emotion. “I want it all with you, too.”
“Good.” I tuck her back beneath my arm. “Now, let’s get a little rest before the cavalry shows up. We need it, and there will be weeks to come of hashing this all out. Right now, I just want to hold you.”
That’s what we do. Hold on tight before we fall into a little sleep, easing away some of the pain from the day we’ve had.
32
CASSANDRA
The front shades at Hope Pizza might be drawn, but inside is a feast fit for a king.
Or a king and all his princes and princesses. The entire Ashton family and their nearest and dearest sit around a bunch of four-tops that have been pushed together and disguised with a red checkered tablecloth. Hands reach over the surface, scooping potatoes, picking up turkey legs, and batting each other out of the way for the last of Nonna’s biscuits.
“Liam, if you take that last scoop of sweet potato casserole, I swear to God …” Alana threatens her oldest brother.
Under my breath, I chuckle because even if the last week was a huge, horrible pill to swallow, this bunch manages to smooth away some of the rough edges. Alana especially, who has taken to checking up on me twice a day and even bringing distractions like nail polish and old rom-coms to the guesthouse.
Warren sits next to her, their vibe off from the normal. Come to think of it, they’ve been weird since that night the Ashton patriarch yelled his dislike for me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask Alana, trying to whisper from across the table.
“I’m fine.” Her smile is too bright for that to be true. “Plus, shouldn’t I be asking you that? How are you feeling? Patrick, you okay?”
My hand is in Patrick’s, and he squeezes my fingers under the table.
“If everyone would stop asking, I’d be better,” he mumbles, because we’ve talked about how talked out we are.
Yaren arrived shortly after I was discharged from the hospital, and we had to debrief with him hours later about the media strategy. There were already rumors swirling that I’d killed someone.
Just thinking about Nikolai’s face with that gun in my hands leaves me feeling like I can’t breathe. The therapist I went to yesterday, the first one I’ve ever seen, says I’m still in shock about the whole shooting. That I am still trying to process it. No matter how many times everyone says it’s not my fault, I still can’t seem to digest those emotions and rationales. It’ll take time, the therapist also told me that, but it feels comforting to be in this room full of people who have become like family to me.
But Yaren was here, and we’d given an interview to a trusted media source that had never done me wrong. Patrick and I gave quotes, confirming our romance in the process, and gave as much information as we could without impeding the investigation that would close shortly. I hadn’t wanted to put anything out, but my agent was right in knowing that if I didn’t, people would only talk more about it.
This way, our story is told by us, and we wouldn’t be doing anything further. No documentaries, no fictionalized shows, no sit-down interviews. I said what I said, and now it’s time to fade into the quiet life I’m hoping to be granted. Yaren didn’t know if that was possible, especially now, but he’s hard at work trying to make it happen.
