Chapter 36
WESTON
Ifeel empty as Willow walks away, and I want nothing more than to follow her.
Comfort her. Heal her. Love her. But I know she’ll need a moment to herself, to process this alone.
I knew there were aspects of her past she hadn’t told me yet, but this certainly wasn’t one I was expecting.
It wasn’t difficult to decipher the wrecked expression on her face when her eyes refused to meet mine.
It’s going to kill her that I found out this way, and I want to take time for the knowledge to settle within me too, so that when we talk about it, I can take care of her the way she needs.
I also want to ensure Parker does not ever come near her again.
He doesn’t attempt to mask the devastation on his face as he watches her run away, but the anger in his gaze remains potent enough that I know he won’t be taking accountability any time soon.
It’s the same expression my father used to wear when he’d make my mother bleed.
Enough guilt that he knew he’d gone too far, but he’d still justify his actions.
It was always her fault, and he’d never hurt her badly enough not to do it again.
“The best thing she’ll do for herself is forget you ever fucking existed.
The best thing you can do for yourself now is to make sure you remain forgotten.
” I take a step toward him, and he shuffles back, fear flashing across his eyes.
My instincts tell me to obliterate him, but unlike the last time I found myself face to face with a monster like this, I don’t listen.
I won’t be the violent person he’s made me out to be in his head, but it doesn’t mean I won’t use his assumptions to my advantage.
“Do not ever find yourself in the same vicinity as Willow Graham again.”
Parker’s throat bobs as he swallows, breath short and rapid, filtering through his lips like he’s choking on it.
I hope he does.
I leave him in front of the bathroom, ignoring the small crowd gathered to witness the interaction. Fucking vultures.
Willow didn’t make it far up the beach, I can see her a few dozen yards away sitting in the sand with her knees pulled to her chest as she stares out over the horizon. The sun is halfway drowned by the Pacific, bright orange and streaking the sky in shades of indigo.
As I stalk toward her, the rest of her family catches up to me—confusion and concern painting their faces. Lou is still holding my comically large check. “What’s going on?” she asks before I cut her off.
“We need to leave. Can you three go get the car, please?”
They watch me apprehensively, and I don’t know why I’m surprised. This entire family is goddamn stubborn.
“Please.” I sigh, relenting. “Parker showed up. Confronted her. She’s far from okay, and I just need to get her home.”
Lou gasps, immediately stepping in the direction of Willow as indignation washes over Zander’s features. Liv is solemn, grasping her wife’s hand. “Let Weston go get her, okay?”
Lou’s green eyes flick to me. “Should we go back to our hotel instead?”
I shake my head. “You can drop us off at the airport if you don’t want to make the drive this late, but I need to get her home.”
I need to get her off this beach and as far away from Parker as possible.
I need to get her into my bed and into my arms, and I need her to be where she feels safest when she wakes up tomorrow morning.
I can’t explain the instinct, the urgency in it, but something in me knows that she won’t feel okay again until she’s back in Pacific Shores.
“Of course not,” Lou says. “We’re going to take Willow home if that’s what she needs.”
Liv and Zander both nod in agreement before the three of them slowly head in the direction of the parking lot.
As I make my way toward Willow, I pull off the hoodie I put on after the competition. Reaching her, I squat down behind her, gently placing the sweatshirt over her shoulders. “Willow, love. We’re going to go home, baby.”
She doesn’t respond, but her entire body trembles beneath my touch.
“C’mon, Wills. Please.” I slowly slip my hands beneath her arms, and thankfully, she works with me to lift off the ground. I tuck her beneath my shoulder, walking her toward the parking lot. “That’s my girl. Let’s get you home.”
She’s still crying, but it’s a soft, continual type of sorrow rather than the violent sobs she was letting out when she ran from Parker earlier. I’m honestly not sure what’s worse.
I kiss her forehead. “I have you, love.”
“I ruined your competition,” she whispers brokenly.
“Don’t take responsibility for his actions, Willow. You didn’t ask for that to happen. You didn’t initiate it. You didn’t ruin anything. I still won.” I smile into her hair as we walk. “I’ll show you the check when we get to the car. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
She doesn’t laugh, and my chest splits open when she murmurs, “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Willow. You did nothing wrong.”
“I . . .”
I hush her, kissing the top of her head again. “I want to get you home right now. We can talk about it tomorrow, but know that you have nothing to fear when it comes to me, all right?” Echoing what she said to me yesterday, I add, “I’m going to hold you through it.”
She sighs, and I can’t tell if it’s in relief or devastation, but she doesn’t say more as we find the rest of her family. I help her into the car, and outside of soft murmured greetings, we don’t speak.
We drive through the night back to Pacific Shores in silence.