44. Sadie
SADIE
The storm cellar was too dark.
Too small.
Too quiet.
Dad sat beside me on the wooden bench.
The old shotgun rested across his knees.
Neither of us spoke.
We had heard the gunshots.
One.
Then another.
Then shouting.
Then nothing.
The silence after was worse.
Every second stretched.
Every sound from above made me jump.
A boot on the porch.
A voice outside.
A radio crackling somewhere near the house.
I kept staring at the cellar door.
Waiting.
Praying.
Trying not to imagine the worst.
Dad reached over.
Took my hand.
His fingers were rough from years of ranch work.
Warm.
Steady.
“He’ll come back,” he said.
I wanted to believe him.
I did.
But Beast had gone after a man with a gun.
A man who had already fired at our home.
A man who had nothing left to lose.
“What if Gerald hurt him?” I whispered.
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“Then Gerald made the last mistake of his life.”
A sound came from above us.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming closer.
Dad lifted the shotgun.
I grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
The cellar door creaked.
Then a voice came through the darkness.
“Sadie.”
Everything inside me stopped.
Beast.
I ran toward the steps before the door fully opened.
Moonlight poured down into the cellar.
And there he was.
Standing at the top.
Dirty.
Tired.
His shirt streaked with mud.
A scrape cut across his cheek.
But alive.
Standing.
Looking at me like I was the only thing in the world.
“Beast.”
My voice broke.
I didn’t care.
I ran up the steps.
He caught me halfway.
Lifted me into his arms.
Held me so tight I could barely breathe.
But I didn’t want him to let go.
Not ever.
“Are you hurt?” I asked against his chest.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not mine.”
I pulled back.
Looked at him.
His eyes were dark.
Heavy.
But softer when they met mine.
“Gerald?”
Beast’s hand came up to my cheek.
“He’s in custody.”
For one second, I didn’t understand.
The words floated between us.
Too simple.
Too impossible.
“He’s… what?”
“Sheriff Cooper has him.”
Thank God! I don’t ever want to see him again.
Beast tightened his hold before I could fall.
“He won’t come back,” he said.
My eyes filled.
“He can’t hurt you.”
The tears came anyway.
Hard.
Fast.
All the fear I had been holding inside finally broke loose.
The fear of seeing Gerald’s truck.
The fear of him outside my window.
The fear of him waving from the pasture.
The sound of bullets breaking through my kitchen window.
All of it.
Beast held me through every tear.
Didn’t rush me.
Didn’t tell me to stop.
Just held me.
Dad came up behind us.
His eyes were wet too.
Though he would probably deny it until the day he died.
He put one hand on Beast’s shoulder.
“You got her safe.”
Beast looked at him.
Then nodded once.
“I will always keep her safe.”
Dad studied him.
Long.
Hard.
Then his expression softened.
“I know you will.”
Something warm moved through my chest.
Something bigger than relief.
Something that felt like coming home.
Beast looked down at me.
His thumb brushed away a tear.
“You ready to go inside?”
I looked toward the house.
Toward the broken window.
The shattered glass.
The place that suddenly felt different.
Not ruined.
Not anymore.
Because Gerald was gone.
Because I wasn’t alone.
Because Beast was holding me.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Beast kissed my forehead.
Then he took my hand.
Dad walked beside us.
And together, we stepped out of the storm cellar.
Out of the darkness.
Back into the night.
But this time…
The darkness didn’t feel so frightening.
Not with Beast beside me.