Chapter 31 #2
I explained how and why I ended up in the psychiatric hospital, why I applied for legal emancipation, and how Mack took Shane and me under his wing. I even told them the reason for all my tattoos, the color in my hair, and the youth center.
I ended my story by telling him about Luke proposing to me in our restaurant. By the end of my life story recount, Lindsay had tears in her eyes, and several people in the audience were audibly crying and sniffling.
Lindsay grabbed my hand and squeezed it in a show of support and solidarity. When I realized she was still unable to speak, I continued filling in the silence.
“I’d like to share with you why Shane Fowler has recently become a target of a vicious campaign to ruin his career. Shane has been like a brother to me and has only ever protected me. What he has been accused of is false and has been orchestrated specifically to make me keep my secrets.
“The man I admittedly stabbed is a high-ranking political figure. He was when it happened and is even more so now. When I walked in that room and found him raping that little girl,” I stop and take a steadying breath before I can finish this sentence.
“I decided right then that I would never back down from protecting the innocent.
“If I give in to his demands. If I let him get away with this without telling the truth—no matter what it costs me—I will be as much to blame as he is. I will have helped him hurt innocent people, and I can't live with that."
Lindsay finally finds her voice. “What do you hope to gain by telling your story today, Andi?”
“My hope is that others will see him for what he really is. I believe that as his victims come forward, they will find strength in knowing they’re not alone. I want them to see that they can help put an end to the years of terror and pain he’s inflicted on them.”
The crowd erupts in applause, and many people jump to their feet.
Lindsay wipes away a tear, then rises to take the microphone and invite questions from the audience.
There are so many questions that Lindsay and her producers decide to post the complete, unedited version on their website as a marketing test. After more than two hours of questions and answers, Lindsay finally wraps up the show.
Many people come forward to share their stories of past abuse. They talk to me about how inspiring I am for standing up to someone who has used his power to do so much evil. I thank them for their kind words and inwardly wonder what kind of evil will now be unleashed on everyone I know.
LUKE
While Andi is away at the talk show interview, I find myself standing at a crossroads—again.
She’s never made me feel less for changing my mind, but I can’t shake the discomfort of not having a clear direction, of not being the man I want to be for her, for us.
I don’t want to rely on her inheritance or her success.
I want to contribute, to build something of my own, to be someone she can be proud to call her partner.
There are parts of my past I still need to make peace with—failures I haven’t fully faced, doubts that creep in late at night. Sometimes I worry she’ll see through me, realize I’m not as steady as I pretend to be. The fear of losing her is sharper than I’d like to admit.
But Andi’s faith in me has started to shift something inside.
Her quiet confidence, the way she believes in my potential, makes me want to step up—not just for her, but for myself.
Today, I submitted my application and continuing education credits to reactivate my psychologist license.
Working with the kids at the youth center, seeing how they light up when someone believes in them, reminded me of why I started down this path in the first place.
I want to use what I know—about psychology, about resilience, about starting over—to help these kids find their footing. Maybe I can offer them the kind of support I wish I’d had. Maybe, in building something with them, I’ll finally learn how to build something lasting for myself, too.
Now comes the real challenge: convincing the parents at the youth center that Andi isn’t the villain the headlines make her out to be.
The irony isn’t lost on me—a psychologist engaged to a woman the world insists on labeling unstable.
I can only imagine the whispers when the truth comes out, and I hate thinking about the fallout Andi might face.
What’s worse is knowing she’s facing the talk show interview alone.
I offered to go with her, to be there in case the questions turned ugly, but she refused—said she needed to do this herself, that she didn’t want anyone thinking she needed backup.
I respect her strength, but it doesn’t make waiting any easier.
The promo ads have been everywhere, promising that Andi will finally tell her side of the story.
I can’t help but worry about what they’ll ask, or how they’ll twist her words.
I can’t sit still any longer. The house feels too quiet, every minute stretching out until my nerves are raw.
I grab my gear and head to the gym, hoping to work off some of this restless energy.
The moment I walk in, I’m greeted by the glare of camera flashes and the low hum of reporters clustered near the entrance.
For a second, I consider pushing past them, but then I spot Shane standing in front of the crowd, holding court.
I hang back, watching, the tension in my shoulders refusing to ease.
“I will gladly submit to any type of drug test–urine, blood, hair–you name it. I have nothing to hide, and I've done nothing wrong. Each of you can take it to your own independent lab, as long as they conduct the tests live, on camera, and no one interferes. I’ve been set up and falsely accused. I want it shown to the world now,” Shane declares with gritted teeth.
“I should have offered this the first day this ridiculous accusation was leveled against me, but I couldn’t think straight.
I wanted to believe it was a simple lab mix-up and that it would be corrected immediately.
It’s important that my fans realize that none of this is true,” Shane stops and looks directly into the closest camera. “I’m asking you to believe in me.”
With that, Mack announces that’s the only statement that Shane will make, and unless they’re taking samples to the lab, he will answer no further questions. Several reporters jump at the chance to be the ones to either clear his name or condemn him.
Shane willingly takes them to the locker room with him, and the ringside doctor performs the blood draws himself. Mack’s lawyer steps in with paperwork for the reporters to sign, and a boxing commission representative arranges for each specimen to have an official escort.
I move to the far corner to work on the speed bag alone and clear my head.
Mack raised Shane and Andi–he taught them how to stand up for themselves.
Watching Shane helped me get past this feeling that Andi needed to be protected during her interview.
She’s strong, she’s independent, and she’s opinionated—and I wouldn’t change a thing about her.
Brandon was right when he said a love like this only comes along once in a lifetime.
I am damn lucky to have found her when I wasn’t even looking.
Now, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
If I could get my hands on Rhoades, she would never have to worry about him again.
He doesn’t deserve to live after what he put Andi and those little girls through. His day is coming.
Three hours later, I’m exhausted from my extensive workout, which included sparring in the ring with another boxer for several rounds.
When we climb through the ropes, I look up at the clock and realize I haven’t heard from Andi all day.
Immediately, I feel my heartbeat against the inside of my chest at the thought that something has happened to her.
I reach for my phone inside my gym bag, and it starts ringing.
Andi’s beautiful, smiling face lights up my screen.
“Hey, baby, I was just about to call you,” I try to hide the fact that I was worried about her.
She laughs. She knows me too well.
"I'm all right, honey. The talk show recording went way longer than expected and turned out even better than I could have hoped.
I go back tomorrow to view the edited version and make sure I approve of what the producers cut out.
" Andi's enthusiasm is contagious as she tells me about the day in front of the audience and cameras.
I laugh, relieved. “Glad to hear it. I was ready to have words with her if she’d given you a hard time.”
She laughs, then her voice lifts with excitement.
“Oh, and let me tell you the best part! Travis Malone was there—the lead singer of Sound Bar. He was taping a different show, but he listened to my whole story. He even shared his own—about being abused as a kid. He’s agreed to do public service announcements with me, and he wants to leave his label to sign with MaxMorgan Music. ”
I can’t help but smile at the joy in her voice, even as a flicker of insecurity twists in my chest. “Why wouldn’t he want to sign with you? You’re incredible, Andi.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then her tone softens. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”
I hesitate but force a smile into my voice. “Yeah. I know.”
“I love you, Luke. I’m marrying you. No one could ever change that.”
She always knows how to quiet my doubts. “I love you, too. Come home soon, okay? I want to celebrate with you.”
She laughs, warm and familiar. “That’s an invitation I’ll never turn down.”
We say our goodbyes, and I head toward the door.
I make a mental note to tell her about Shane's earlier interview so no one catches her off guard. Just as I’m about to leave the gym, the new promo for Andi’s interview plays.
Her beautiful face fills the flatscreen on the wall.
She wears a serious, determined look, and the clip shows Andi talking about being placed in foster care.
Lindsay’s voice fills the air as she invites viewers to watch her show on Friday for the full story, including Andi’s claim of political corruption.
This situation is about to become volcanic. I can feel it coming a mile away. All I know is I will protect Andi with my life. Jackson Rhoades is in for one hell of a fight if he thinks he’s getting anywhere near Andi. I'm the only one who's getting close to her, and I'm almost home now.
And there’s my life, waiting for me on the front porch, grinning like a little girl. At first, I think it's because she's happy to see me, but she bursts my bubble as soon as I get out of the truck.
She rushes to meet me in the garage, hugs me, and says, "I can't believe Travis wants to sign with me!" She dances around, doing a victory dance like a schoolgirl whose secret crush finally just looked at her, and giggles. I mean, she literally giggles over this guy.
I clear my throat.
She smiles. “Sorry. I just never thought someone already so big would ask to work with me!”
I pull her in my arms, and when I feel her body meld with mine, my insecurities are gone.
She meant what she said. She is mine, and I trust her with my heart and my soul.
“I’m proud of you, baby. That is awesome,” I kiss her and wrap both arms firmly around her midsection, pulling her even closer and backing her up against my truck.
“Lucas Woods,” she says in the sternest voice she can muster under the circumstances.
“Yes, my love?” I ask as I lift one of her legs and pull it up to my waist, then lift the other to my other side.
“We’re in the garage,” she says as I move my lips and tongue down her neck. Nipping, licking, and sucking her soft skin. Her words argue, but her head leans to one side, giving me better access to her slender, sensuous neck.
“Yes, we’re in the garage,” I answer as my hands slowly push her shirt up and over her head.
“And the garage door is open,” she says on an exhale.
My hands rub around her sides, slightly tickling her and giving her goose bumps at the same time, as they release the clasp on her back.
“The door is open, yes,” I respond as I slide my tongue across her skin until a moan escapes from her throat.
“Mmm, Luke,” she urges me on with the urgency in her voice.
“Yes, baby?”
She pulls my hair, and I refrain from laughing at her tactics.
“My impatient little vixen,” I tease.
This earns me a harder yank on my hair. "Luke," she warns me, and there's no doubt what she means. I can’t hold back my laugh this time.
I don’t put her down. Instead, I carry her into the house, up the stairs, and to the shower.
Where I continue my assault on her body and senses in every conceivable way.
Then to the bedroom, still covered with water droplets from the shower and smelling of her body wash.
But we don’t make it to the bed. Thirty minutes later, we’re both fully sated and completely dehydrated, lying limp and lifeless in the bed.
For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us, heat and laughter tangled up in the humid air.
Yet as my breath slows, a stray sound from the street floats through the open window—a car idling without moving on the curb outside.
Awareness prickles along my skin, a sudden reminder that peace here is always temporary.
I glance at Andi, watch her lashes flutter on her cheek, so soft and unguarded in this cocoon.
Downstairs, a cell phone buzzes three times and goes silent.
I can't bring myself to move, reluctant to break the spell even as my mind tracks the time and the threat waiting beyond the walls.
For now, I pull her closer, determined to let this tenderness ground us for a little longer, even as the familiar pulse of tension returns—a silent tick of the clock reminding me that danger never really sleeps.
“When are you marrying me, Andi?” I whisper to her.
She doesn't answer, and I look at her, concerned at her quietness, only to realize she's fallen asleep in my arms.