Chapter 39 Ford
Ford
Ihold Stormy close. Her sobs shake against my chest, each one piercing me like a blade finding bone—a pain I welcome if it means she can let it out. So, I stay steady. I let her cry, unravel, and feel it all. No fixing, no rushing, just presence. Just her and the wreckage, safe in my arms.
I’m still shaken and furious over how that lowlife, Will, thought he could touch her, scare her, make her feel threatened, speak to her that way.
As soon as Stormy ran out of the book club, I was on my feet, ready to chase after her, but I had to make sure Mom had a lift home first. He must’ve slipped out in the few moments it took to speak to her, without me even realising.
Hell, I knew he was a dick. But I never expected this.
After discovering Stormy wasn’t outside, I had a feeling this was where she’d go. But when I pulled up and saw Will’s truck parked out front, I hesitated in confusion.
I watched them through the windows. At first, it looked intimate. I felt gut-punched, distraught.
But then I saw how he held her. The way she pulled against him and struggled. Something was wrong, so I was out of the truck and through the door in seconds.
Terror softened into relief when she saw me, and the flash of recognition wrecked me.
I wanted to rip his head from his shoulders.
But now, her sobs soften against me, less jagged and hollower. I finally speak.
“I’m sorry, Stormy,” I whisper, guilt slicing through me. “I should’ve been here sooner. Should’ve stopped him before he laid a finger on you. I should’ve …”
She looks up. Her face is blotchy and red, her eyes raw, but she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
I loosen my hold, take her face gently in my hands, and swipe the tears trailing down her cheeks.
“I know,” I say, voice breaking. “But I’ll never forgive myself for not being here.”
She gives me a weak, fragile smile.
“You came. You stopped him. That’s all I needed.”
I lean in just enough. My forehead almost touches hers. The thought of what could’ve happened if I hadn’t arrived … it’s too much to bear.
“I swear to you, Stormy … he’ll never touch you again.”
She leans into me, barely, but it’s enough. Enough to wreck me. Enough to vow that I’d let the world burn before I let her get hurt again.
“You’re safe with me. And if you let me … I’ll prove it. Every damn day.”
Stormy presses her forehead to mine then. Her breaths are still shallow and uneven. But then she pulls back and exhales, deflating.
“I don’t know what to do, Ford,” she whispers, her voice small. “Nobody wants me here.”
My jaw tightens. Not at her—never at her. At the ache in her voice.
“Bullshit.” My voice is firm, but not unkind. “I want you here.” I tilt her face up so she can see the truth in my eyes.
“Missy wants you here. Mom does. Hell, the whole damn ranch wants you here, Stormy. Whether they say it out loud or not,” I pause, trying to steady my voice. “Please don’t walk away from this. Not because of them, because of him.”
"I don’t know, Ford. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I don’t belong here."
"No. I don’t accept that."
Stormy blinks, startled by my conviction.
"They’re scared because you’re new. Because you’re doing something different. But you’re not wrong for being here. You’re not wrong for wanting this. And if they can’t see that yet, then we’ll make them see."
She shakes her head. "Ford, it’s not that easy …"
“I know,” I say, my voice catching. “I know it’s not. And I hate that you had to go through this. But Stormy … you didn’t deserve what happened today. And you sure as hell don’t deserve to feel like you’re alone in it.”
I pull her close again, my hand cradling the back of her head.
“We’ll figure this out,” I promise.
“I’ll help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”