Chapter 38
BUTTON HOOK: THE PUCK CARRIER CURLS BACK TO CREATE SPACE FROM A DEFENDER
Tonight, Amy glows.
Unfortunately, not all of it is from her stunning beauty.
She’s lit up with anxiety but hasn’t verbalized why. Instead she’s pacing.
Despite her heels, her stride is purposeful.
Still, I can’t help but notice every time her left leg takes a step, the slit in her gown reveals a stretch of leg that makes my mouth water.
I want to drop to my knees in front of her, shove her dress to her waist, and reassure her—preferably with my mouth releasing her stress in a way that pleases us both.
But her movements are quick. Three steps from the couch to the window. Pause. Pacing two steps back in the opposite direction. Trembling hands smooth imaginary wrinkles from her gown. Chin lifting, then lowering again.
She looks stunning in her floor-length dress draped with a high cowl neckline. That’s undeniable. But there’s a tightness to her shoulders that beauty doesn’t erase and I finally broach why.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say gently.
She stops mid-stride. “Yes, I do.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I add quickly. “I mean—you don’t have to go tonight. Not if it feels like too much.”
Amy exhales, long and slow, then turns to face me. “This isn’t about the dress or the cameras or the donors.”
“I know,” I say because we’ve discussed it countless times.
We both know tonight is going to be a potential train wreck because the media let it slip that I’m attending and since then, Mark reached out.
Standing, I trail my fingers gently down her bare arm, pleased when goosebumps rise in response. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“She’s going to come for us.”
I think back to the email I got from Mark earlier in the week—one I shared with Amy.
Subject: Charity Gala
To: Brennan McCallister
From: Mark Espias
Brennan—
I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I need to tell you something important.
We both know Brielle’s obsession with you going pro is what started this all. I wasn’t a great friend then, but I hope you read this.
Brielle’s on the committee for the charity gala. I saw you’re attending with a “plus one.” I hope like hell it’s Amy—that you worked things out between you.
Regardless if it is, you know Brielle’s a spoiled brat who never played well with others. If someone else had something better and shinier, she wanted it.
I don’t know if she’ll try to pull something if your date is Amy. Just, please watch yourself at the gala.
Don’t let anyone get hurt—including you.
~Mark
I take Amy’s hands and note how cold they are. Rubbing them between mine, I reassure her, “If she tries anything, we’ll handle it.” Despite my disappointment with Mark—something I’m still working through with Dr. Halvorsen—Amy encouraged me to send him a thank you.
“He didn’t have to give you a heads up. Maybe he’s making amends as well.”
Instead, I stand by the woman I love. “You have this.”
She scoffs, “Please. People like Brielle don’t just disappear because time passes. They reappear when they think the spotlight’s bright enough.”
I remind her, “You’re not walking into this alone.”
Her eyes search mine. “I know. I’m just worried about what happens if—when—she shows up.”
“I can protect you if she does.”
“You don’t need to protect me, Bren. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her on my own.”
“You’re not anxious about coming face to face Brielle. You’re warming up for it.”
That earns me a devilish smirk that makes my dick hard. While I’m contemplating being very late, Amy takes one deep breath, squares her shoulders, and says, “Okay. Let’s go see if we can better our world.”
I smile at her back as she goes to pick up her purse. To myself, I think, No one gets to hurt you tonight or any night.
That’s the first of many vows I plan to keep when it’s time to get there.
The ballroom is everything a fundraising gala is expected to be.
Black tie. Gorgeous evening gowns. Jewels dripping off of people. Amy murmurs to me, “If that necklace is real, it has to cost more than our entire annual school budget.”
I spin her to face me. I press a quick kiss to her lips before asking, “Are you ready to mingle?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
OPU colors dominate the room. Even in the space for the silent auction, our alma mater's flag hangs behind the tables, impossible to miss.
We immediately get swept into conversations about EMT uptraining. Potential nursing scholarships at state universities. Trainer education programs—programs which might mean the next generation of Willow Creek students don’t have to incur debt to help improve lives.
I wrap my arm around Amy and lean down to ask, “How are you holding up?”
She leans into me before looking up at me wearing the smile I want to put on her face every day. “This is incredible.”
I brush my lips against hers. “I agree. If we can implement even a fraction of this, we’ll make our home a better place.”
“Home.”
“What? Is Willow Creek not our home?” I guide her out onto the dance floor.
“You’re my home.”
The simplicity of her words causes my heart to accelerate. I spin her out, much to her delight. She’s radiating confidence and looks like someone who should be wearing a crown.
She’s magnificent.
After our dance, we move through the room, greeting donors, board members, hospital administrators. Amy is engaged, asking thoughtful questions. People lean in when she speaks. They listen.
I watch her relax by degrees as the night unfolds. Her posture loosens. Her voice steadies. She’s still alert—but no longer bracing.
Until her whole body locks. The air shifts around us. I turn my head to follow Amy’s gaze. I immediately realize why her whole demeanor has changed.
Brielle Winters stands just inside the entrance next to her wealthy father. Wearing a predatory smile, she meets my eyes across the room. Her phone is already in her hand like a weapon she refuses to relinquish.
I murmur to Amy, “The snake has just been unleashed into the wild.”
Amy’s too busy tracking Brielle’s movement with her eyes to respond.
I hold my position next to her. Being where I should have been all those years ago—by her side. Supporting the woman I love not just in words but in deeds.
Brielle approaches with practiced ease, eyes glittering with intent. “Well, Amy, it’s so good to see you. We all wondered what happened to you,” she mocks.
Amy’s fingers tighten once around my arm before she taps her finger against her jaw. “Did you really, Brielle? Because as far as I’m aware, you’re what happened to me.”
My blood pressure spikes when Brielle presses her hand to her chest, as if shocked. “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Amy doesn’t back down. “Really? Then what brings you right to us?”
Brielle’s voice drips with sweetness. “I couldn’t miss the chance to say hello to Brennan. You know, after you…left school, I kept an eye on him.”
The implication hangs there—territorial, smug. Amy doesn’t rise to the bait. “Since I know Bren doesn’t date piranhas, what exactly are you trying to imply?”
Brielle maintains her camera-ready smile even as she hisses, “He was always too good for you.”
The temperature in my bloodstream spikes. But Amy? Amy doesn’t give her an inch. “You think you’re better, Brielle?”
Brielle lowers her voice. “Let’s not pretend, Amy. Everyone knew what you were willing to do for attention.”
Every muscle in my body locks but Amy’s already handling it. “No. We know what you were willing to do when you weren’t getting it.”
The smile on Brielle’s face flickers.
Amy inches closer before she lays her out in a voice so terrifying, I have chills. “You posted an illegal image of me. A photo taken without my consent. You forged documentation. You hid behind anonymous accounts. And you encouraged people to believe I destroyed my own reputation.”
Brielle scoffs. “You can’t prove—”
“I can,” Amy cuts in. “I’ve had the evidence for years.”
Brielle’s jaw tightens. “You’re delusional.”
Amy’s eyes go cold in a way I haven’t seen since she threw me out of her dorm room. “You wanted him and when he didn’t pick you, you decided to try to ruin me. But I have news for you—you failed.”
Brielle snaps, with a last grasp at superiority “You were never on his level. You were a small-town math nerd. He was going somewhere.”
Amy doesn’t even blink. “Yet, he came back to me. Not because he had to. Because he chose to. Brennan chose me. But here’s the part you never understood.”
Brielle glances at me pleadingly, as if I might save her from her well overdue evisceration.
I wrap my arm around Amy, showing exactly who I support. Who I love.
Amy destroys Brielle in a way she’ll never recover from. “You approaching me? Spewing baseless accusations about the photo you uploaded on DormLust? You just opened up a slander case where I have evidence to bury you.”
Now, I’m certain everyone’s looking in our direction as Brielle’s face drains of color. “You don’t have…you wouldn’t…”
Amy smooths the front of her dress down. “I can…and now? I will.”
Silence descends around us. Brielle’s mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
Amy turns away from the woman she dismantled who tried to erase her existence out of petty jealousy. Then she beams up at me. “Do you think it will be hard to get the footage of this little conversation from the news crew?”
My heart is overflowing with awe. “For a willful defamation suit? Shouldn’t be too hard.”
Brielle’s eyes flick to the media crews who are in position to get premier coverage.
We’re totally surrounded by cameras and boom mics extending out from the back wall.
It’s coincidental the same news crews that are here for the charity media exposure are in the perfect place to bear witness to this viper’s destruction.
Her bravado cracks. She begs, “Please…don’t. ”
Amy leans against me. “Don’t, what?”
Brielle whispers, “You have no idea what I could lose…”
Amy scoffs. “I know exactly the consequences you’ll face. People talking about you? Treating you like a pariah? Real consequences for your actions?”
Brielle manages a horrified whisper, “No.”
Amy tilts her head, calm as a chess player with the board already solved. “Just so we’re clear,” she says pleasantly, “I’ve got all the evidence.”
Brielle’s frantically searching Amy’s face for any weakness. She won’t find any. What she finds is someone much more dangerous than she is—a woman who’s already lived through being torn apart and regained her power.
Amy looks at her condescendingly. “Anything else?”
Brielle backs away slowly. She pockets her phone before racing for the exit.
Amy looks up at me, something deep and steady in her gaze. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For letting me take care of her.”
In that moment—standing beside her, the past finally quiet, the future visible—I know this is what redemption looks like.
Not erasing my past mistakes, but standing where I should’ve stood all along—at Amy’s side.