Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
June
“Okay, be honest.” I glance around Brooklyn’s kitchen table at the girl gang. “Did I overreact?”
I’ve been half-listening to the girls’ chatter while staring at my phone, willing it to light up with a message from Journey, but of course that’s stupid. I told him we were done. Why would he even want to speak to me again?
A sharp pain pierces through my heart when I remember the look on his face when I walked away. The last seven days, sixteen hours, and—I glance at the time on my phone—twenty-two minutes have been pure hell.
“Uh…”
“Well…” The girls exchange glances, and suddenly nobody knows where to look.
“What?” My brows go up.
Brooklyn presses her lips together, Stella studies the ceiling, and Madison and Leslie are communicating telepathically right in front of me.
Brooklyn blows out a heavy breath and blurts, “Yeah, babe. You did.”
I blink, not at all expecting her to be so blunt about it.
“But we’re not dismissing your fear,” Stella quickly jumps in, widening her eyes at Brooklyn. “Everything you went through was terrifying.”
“Very terrifying,” Madison stresses, nodding emphatically.
“And valid,” Brooklyn adds, her tone gentler now. “But running away from the man who literally stepped in front of a bullet for you? That’s not protecting yourself. That’s you running away.”
My throat tightens. I glance down at my hands, at what’s left of the red nail polish on my thumb, where I’ve been nervously picking at it all week.
“Sometimes you have to trust people to stick around,” Madison continues, leaning forward on her elbows. “Not everyone will leave.”
I swallow hard, my eyes stinging. “It’s not about—”
“He’s not your dad, sweetie.” Leslie’s soft voice cuts through my protest.
The words ricochet through me. He’s not my dad. I suck in a sharp breath. “Oh god.”
She’s right. Journey isn’t my dad. How could I be so stupid?
I did the exact thing I’ve always been afraid of someone doing to me. I abandoned him.
“I’ve ruined everything.” My voice breaks. “He probably hates me now. I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see me again.”
Stella’s eyes soften. “I’m pretty sure he’d give anything to hear from you, babe. When I saw him a few days ago, he was a mess. You need to talk to him.”
“But what if—”
A loud knock at the door cuts off my panicked thoughts.
“Seriously?” Brooklyn growls. “If they wake up my son, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Running on fumes and caffeine, Brookie pushes back from the table.
She’s been amazing this week, letting me cry on her shoulder, making sure I eat, and never once complaining about the extra body in her tiny house.
She pads down the hallway, and I hear the door open. There’s a low murmur of voices that I can’t quite make out, then footsteps headed back towards the kitchen.
“June.” I glance up to Brooke standing in the doorway.
“Yeah?”
“The door’s for you, babe.”
My brows pull together. For me? I’m not expecting anyone.
Pushing back from the table, I round the corner and freeze mid-step.
Journey is standing on the porch, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets. His jaw is dusted with more scruff than usual, and there are dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping.
“I know you wanted space,” he starts, his voice low and unsure. “But—”
He’s here. I don’t even wait for him to finish talking. I take off running towards him, and leap into his arms. He catches me with a surprised grunt, his hands automatically going to support my weight as I wrap my legs around his waist and arms around his neck.
“I’m so sorry,” I say over and over against his neck. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
His arms band tighter around me, squeezing me to his chest so tight I can barely breathe.
But I don’t care. I never want him to let me go again.
“Thank fuck,” he mutters against my hair. “I thought I was going to have to pull a Bane and kidnap your ass.”
A watery laugh escapes me. "What?” I pull back just enough to see his face, and run my fingers over the stubble on his jaw.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head as he turns around with me still clinging to him and walks back to his bike parked at the curb.
Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the girls watching from the doorway, all wearing matching smiles. Stella gives me a thumbs up.
Journey pats my bottom. “Down you go, princess.”
I unlock my legs and slide down his body until my feet touch the ground, but I don’t step back. I can’t bear to put any distance between us.
He cradles my face in his callused hands, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “Don’t leave me again.”
“Never again,” I vow. I don’t think I would survive.
His eyes search mine for a long beat before his mouth comes down on mine in a kiss so fierce it steals my breath.
God, I missed him so damn much.
When he finally pulls back, I’m dizzy with need.
“You ready?” he asks, dropping one more quick peck on my lips, before he climbs onto his bike and offers me his hand.
“Yeah. Where are we going?” I ask, placing my hand in his.
“Home.”
I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my face between his shoulder blades. I close my eyes and breathe him in. I’d go anywhere with him.
In the next moment, the rumble of the engine vibrates through me, and we’re tearing through the streets of Odin. The warm Florida air whips my hair around my face, and I hold onto Journey like he might disappear if I let go.
Too soon, he pulls up to the curb in front of my apartment and cuts the motor. “Why are we here?”
I’m reluctant to get off the bike, suddenly afraid of what awaits us inside. The last time I was here, someone tried to kill me, so I’m a little gun shy. Pun intended.
Journey slides off first and again holds out his hand. “Trust me.”
I hold his stare. I do trust him, I realize. With my life. With my heart.
“Okay.” I take his hand.
Mr. McAbee, perched in his chair with his signature sweet tea on the ground beside his chair, gives us a little wave as we enter the building. “How ya doin, babygirl?”
I wave back, feeling like I’ve been gone far longer than just a week. “Better.”
He nods, his eyes going to Journey. “Take care of her.”
“I give you my word,” Journey says before leading me up the stairs with my hand firmly clasped in his.
When we reach my door, he pulls out a key that looks a lot like the spare I gave Stella and unlocks it.
“After you,” he says, stepping back.
My breath catches when I walk inside.
“Holy crap on a cracker.” My apartment has been completely transformed.
The bullet hole in the drywall has been patched and painted over.
My makeup collection, which had been destroyed, has been replaced and organized by color.
My ring lights stand in their usual spots, and a bouquet of fresh flowers is sitting on the kitchen counter.
“How did you...?” I trail off, walking in a slow circle, taking it all in.
Journey shrugs, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I had a little help from my sister.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears. He could have just cleaned up the mess, but he didn’t. He took the time to give me back my sanctuary exactly the way I had it before.
God. I was such a bitch to him and he was doing all of this. I don’t deserve him.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He shrugs again like it’s not a big deal, but we both know it is.
“Seriously, honey. Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you, June Calloway.” In two strides he’s across the room and pulling me into the safety of his arms.
“I love you.” I wrap my arms around his waist and just breathe him in.
“Love you too, princess.”
“So what happens now?” I lift my eyes to his.
His hands slide up my back, one tangling in my hair. “Whatever you want.”
I tip my head back to look up at him, my heart so full I think it might burst.
“Whatever I want?” I smirk.
His eyes heat, and a wicked smile spreads across his face. “Whatever you want.”
THE END.