Chapter 3
LAWSON
Midnight came and went, but there was no celebrating. Instead, I spent the first few hours of the new year clutching a trembling Sydney to my chest.
I did as she asked. I carried her out of that club and took her home. My home.
At first I didn’t realize that’s where I was going, and I know taking her to her parents who are just across the street should have been my first instinct. But I couldn’t bring myself to walk away from her after everything. Hell, I could barely let go of her long enough to drive us home.
I don’t think I was alone in those feelings either. When she wasn’t clinging to whatever part of me she could reach, I’d catch her trying her best to disappear under my jumper that I slipped over her head the moment we reached my car.
It was a silent plea. And I could never deny her, especially tonight.
So I kept my promise and drove us home. I swear I could see her relax the closer we got and by the time I pulled into the garage, all the tension in her body melted away.
At first neither of us made a move to go inside. I was letting her lead, giving her whatever it was she wanted or needed. Now more than ever.
I’m not sure how long we sat in the silence until it became almost suffocating, but the moment she turned her head towards me with tears streaming down her already bruising face, the last of my restraint snapped.
I swiftly unclipped her seat belt. We reached for each other at the same time and I hauled her over the center console, settling her on my lap as her body shook.
With her face pressed into my neck, my own buried in her mused hair, we held onto each other as the weight of what could have happened tonight crashed down on us.
Like after everything that happened, this was the only thing keeping us breathing. Knowing the other is safe because they were here, in our arms.
I was her lifeline in that moment. Just like she’s always been mine.
Eventually I maneuvered us into the house, only making it as far as the living room. I collapsed onto the couch with her still in my arms, refusing to break this connection she needed. That both of us needed.
I sat there until her tears slowed and her eyes drifted shut. I sat there, unmoving, as she slept in my arms. When I was sure she wouldn’t wake up, I gave in and lifted my hand, gently wiping away the tears on her cheeks. But it was the way she leaned into my touch that truly broke me.
And for the first time in years, I let my own tears fall.
I didn’t sleep all night, not wanting to take my eyes off of her for even a single second. Like if I did succumb to the exhaustion, she’d disappear. But as long as I could see her, I knew she would be okay. She was safe. With me.
So that’s how we stayed. Me watching over her as she slumbered in the safety of my arms. Until early signs of dawn crept through the living room drapes.
I finally pull my eyes from her when I hear light laughter outside. Glancing out the window, I watch as a drunken couple stumbles down the pavement in front of my house.
I blink, shaking my head to make sure I’m not seeing things. The man with dark hair is wearing all black as he carries the petite blonde woman on his back. Her shimmering dress sparkles in the morning daylight as her bare feet swing with each of his steps.
They both laugh, sharing a smile when he completes the game of hopscotch still decorating the pavement from when Jace and the boys were here a few days ago.
It’s like a knife to the heart the longer I watch them. As if the universe is showing me a glimpse of what tonight could have been.
The weight of my failure crushes me and I shift my gaze from the window. Taking a deep breath, I look down and freeze when I see hesitant blue eyes already watching me.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi,” I echo.
Her eyes dance over my face and her lips attempt to force a smile. “Happy new year. Hopefully we left all the negative energy in the last one, yeah?”
“Don’t do that.”
She drops her eyes and picks at a nonexistent piece of lint on the blanket I draped over her last night. “I’m not doing anything.”
I dip my head, catching her attention. “You don’t need to play off what happened last night like it wasn’t a big deal.”
“I’m not—” I lift an eyebrow and her mouth snaps shut. “Fine. Maybe I just don’t want to wallow in my feelings about the stupid decisions I made last night that led to me being in that bathroom and him…”
Her words trail off, her eyes glossing over. I feel her body tense as if the memory of what happened is playing out over and over in her head.
Tightening my arms around her, I use a finger under her chin to tilt her head up until she’s looking at me. “None of what happened last night was your fault. You didn’t ask for him to follow you into the bathroom. You didn’t ask for him to attack you.”
My thumb brushes over the already pronounced bruising and she winces. I go to pull back but her hand reaches up to cover mine as she leans into my touch.
“If anyone is to blame between the two of us, it’s me.”
Her head jerks back. “What? Law—”
“I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself. What was I thinking? There’s a reason you go in pairs. I should have—”
“Lawson,” she whispers.
The fear of disappointing her overcomes me and I look away, not wanting to see it reflected in her eyes. But then a small hand palms my jaw, titling my head back towards her.
“You did everything right. You saved me.”
“No. I failed you, sunshine.”
I thought watching her dance with the lad was hell, but I was wrong.
Hell was realizing she hadn’t come back from the bathroom.
Hell was hearing her screams behind a locked door.
Hell was seeing her pinned helplessly under a man.
Hell was taking her small, bruised body into my arms after she crawled over the dirty glass littered floor to get to me.
Hell was the sinking fear that I didn’t get to her in time. That I’d lost her.
My arms instinctively tighten around her and I close my eyes. She’s here. She’s safe.
A breath rushes out of me when instead of pushing me away—something I wouldn’t hold against her after last night—she leans into my touch, sighing as she lays her head against my shoulder.
“You didn’t fail me. You could never fail me,” she whispers.
Her fingers trace over the tattoos decorating the back of my hand as we settle into a heavy silence. I let my eyes roam over her curled form, cataloging every scrape, bruise, and hair out of place.
The strap of her dress has been ripped off in the front and dangles off to the side. There’s twin marks on either bicep, imprints already starting to darken like the ones scattering her neck, jaw, and cheek.
My hand reaches up, ghosting my touch over the marks. She follows my movements, laying her palm over mine and pressing it more firmly against her skin as if she’s reassuring herself that it’s me touching her.
“We should go to the station—”
“No.”
My head jerks back at the softly spoken declaration. “Syd—”
“I… I don’t want to draw this out. I don’t want to think about it or talk about it. They would make me sit there and recount everything that happened and I don’t know if I can do it. I’m not even sure if I’d be completely accurate on everything. He got what he deserved. You made sure of that.”
“What he deserves is prison, not some beating that he will eventually heal from.” She draws back, her glistening eyes bouncing between mine. I use my thumb and pull her tortured bottom lip from where she chews on it nervously. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought.” She sharks her head and drops her eyes. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
I press my lips into a thin line and blow out a breath. “I probably would have if you didn’t stop me when you did.”
Her eyes shoot back up to me, full of shock. “What? Why?”
“Because he hurt you. No one hurts you, especially like that, and gets to walk away.” Her face softens, lips parting as she watches me. I clear my throat. “I understand if you don’t want to go in right now, but we should at least take pictures just in case you change your mind.”
She hesitates but eventually nods. I reluctantly let her go as we both stand. The next few minutes, we take pictures of the marks on her skin and the state of her dress. We use my phone, eliminating the possibility of her reliving this every time she opens her camera roll.
Her eyes drift out the window and her lips thin as she wraps her arms around her stomach. “I don’t want to go over there. I don’t want them to see me like this.”
I don’t need to look to know she’s staring at her parents’ house across the street. I take the chance and step closer to her, relieved when she doesn’t recoil. She doesn’t push my hand away when I reach for her, our eyes locking when I rub my thumb over her knuckles.
“You can stay as long as you want.”
Her lips tip up in a sad smile and she sniffles. “Thank you, darkling.”
I scoff under my breath. “You’re really going to call me that after I just said you can stay here for lord knows how long?”
She giggles, reaching up and running her fingertips over my jaw. “It’s never fit more perfectly than right now. You’re all dark and disheveled. The scruff definitely adds to the whole bad boy vibe, but I think I like you clean shaven better. It’s more princely.”
“I’m no prince.”
She hums, her hand finding a home on my chest. “You’re my dark prince. Avenging. Powerful. Unstoppable.”
My eyebrows draw together. I always thought her little nickname for me was because of my hair, eyes, and well, my affinity for anything black.
But a prince? Me? I can’t see it.
I take a step back and nod towards the stairs. “You can shower here if you’d like.”
“I don’t have anything to change into and this dress isn’t going anywhere except into the trash as soon as I take it off.”
I clear my throat. “I’ll get something for you to wear.”
“Okay,” she whispers.