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Easton stands with her in his arms. “Just point me to the room.”
“I can take her, E,” Jace offers, but Easton steps away.
When Jace looks like he’s ready to argue, I shake my head at him.
“What room, Ashlyn?” Maybe Easton needs her for comfort as much as she needed him.
“I’ll show you,” I tell him.
He follows me into the guest room and lays Lindy down on the bed with so much care, I choke on another sob. Myrtle whines from her crate in the corner until I put her on the bed with her human, where she snuggles in under Lindy’s arm. “Thank you for what you did tonight, Easton. I’ll never be able to repay you.” I hug him to me and cry again, unsure how I have any tears left. “I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.”
He towers over me, an inch or so taller than Brandon, and tucks my head under his chin. “I’m just glad everyone’s okay. I think I’m going to head home with Jules and Becks, but I’ll call tomorrow before my game, after I’ve talked to my team’s management.”
I kiss his cheek, then close the bedroom door and kick off my shoes seconds before it opens again.
Brandon pushes through and wraps me in his arms. “How is she?”
“Still sleeping, thankfully. I was just going to lie down with her.”
He kisses my head gently. “Sleep, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You saved us tonight, Brandon. I’m not sure we’d all be standing here if it weren’t for you.” I lean my cheek against his heart, just so I can listen to his heartbeat. “I was so scared I was going to lose you both.”
He guides me to the bed, then waits until I lay down next to Lindy. “I was never going to let that happen. I promised you I’d always keep you safe. Both of you. I just wish we could have stopped it before it got that far.”
“I love you, Brandon.”
He sits down in the oversized chair in the corner of the room and kicks his feet up on the ottoman. “Sleep, baby. You’re safe.”
I wrap my arm around Lindy and close my eyes, praying that when she wakes up, she’s still the same sweet girl she was before she watched a man die.
* * *
Brandon
For hours, I don’t sleep.
I don’t close my eyes.
Because when I do, I see that gun against Lindy’s head.
I see it waving in Ashlyn’s face.
I still feel Henry’s life slipping through my fingers and know if they hadn’t stopped me, I’d have killed a man tonight and not regretted it. So I watch my girls sleep. The steady rhythm of their breathing is all the comfort I need or want until Lindy sits up.
She looks around, confused. “Brandon?”
“Yeah, shortcake. It’s okay. You’re okay. Your mom’s here. I’m here. We’re at Hudson and Maddie’s house.”
She looks over at her sleeping mother, then climbs out of bed, looking sad and scared—suddenly that same little girl I met years ago. She climbs into my lap and lays her head against my chest. I don’t move a muscle, unsure what I’m supposed to do.
“I told you before, you were all the father I’d ever need, Brandon.”
And with that, any remaining walls I still have up, protecting my heart, crumble to ash at her feet. “I love you, Madeline. You may not be biologically mine, but you’re mine in every way that counts, kid.”
BRANDON
One of our biggest fears in the aftermath of what happened that night with Henry was how Lindy was going to cope. Ashlyn has had all of us in therapy for weeks since then, both as a family and individually. Lindy has been quiet—too quiet. The light died in her eyes that night, but she’s been trying to fake it, insisting at some point it’ll feel real again.
