Chapter 19 #2
“That sounds like a long time from now.”
“It is. But we have to give him a chance to follow through on his promise. He didn’t do what he did, so we can run off and get ourselves killed a few weeks later. We have to trust him.”
And she does, she’s realized. In the time she’s been waiting and watching, her anger is such a long-lost feeling in the very back of her soul that all she feels now is that fragile thread of trust they’d formed grow stronger and stronger. It has replaced her fury and softened her fear into faith.
Even years from now, when Emma is old enough for a road trip, and the warmth of spring lets them travel for an investigative journey to find answers, she supposes there will always be a fraction of hope left inside her that she may find him out there, alive and in one piece.
“I miss him,” Emma says.
“Me too.” Addison gives one of the cows a last pet as she stares at the horizon for a moment, something faint and rumbling catching her attention.
The sound briefly grows loud enough to topple a few of the goats at the back of the field, their fainting instincts kicking in at something unfamiliar, and her breath stills.
She tilts her head, her pulse thumping as she waits. It was only the wind, she reasons when nothing more comes of it. “Let’s go inside. It’ll be dark soon.”
They turn back toward the house as another gust of wind forces the tree canopy to split like a tattered cathedral, and then there’s that sound again, low but consistent, a gentle hum in the background of the sky that’s too steady to be anything but man-made.
Her pulse slams so hard in her veins that it hurts.
Addison looks up, unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from as it gets closer and closer. The purr of an engine finally crests whatever doubt she may have held and transforms her skepticism into full-blown elation.
She doesn’t let herself breathe yet. Not until she sees him.
The trees split at the tops in a violent display, exposing the underside of a helicopter as it passes overhead and disappears in the same direction that Wyatt left in to take Vincent toward his hidden plane.
She wants to run down the long gravel driveway and around the corner to meet him in the middle because it could only be Wyatt flying overhead like something out of her best daydreams. He’s not in the same aircraft he left in, but if it has wings, he can fly it.
He told her that once, and she supposes a helicopter’s blades will have to be close enough.
Seconds stretch thin under the weight of her anticipation.
Every cruel, rational thought claws its way back in, reminding her how many times she’s mistaken wind for engines and dreams for reality.
If this is some stranger instead of him, and this hope dissolves like all the others, then she isn’t sure how many more times she can survive the fall.
She presses her fingers into her palms, bracing herself for disappointment, or even invasion by some new enemy as she scans the end of the property.
He appears at the fence line as the last rays of sunrise spark dark hues across the sky, hobbling and blood crusted, pausing as if he used all his strength to get this far.
Her legs that felt heavy a moment ago regain every ounce of energy she thought she lost…and then she runs.
Trees and fencing pass in her periphery before she collides with him hard enough to drive him back a step.
He grunts, and that’s when she feels the stiffness in the way he catches her, the hesitation in his arm before it wraps around her waist. The metallic scent of blood beneath oil and smoke soaked into his clothes.
“You’re hurt,” she breathes into his chest.
“Just a little banged up.”
She pulls back to look at him and nearly unravels.
There’s dried blood along his temple, a split in his lip, and he’s missing half the fabric off one leg.
His shirt is torn at the shoulder, hastily wrapped beneath with something that’s already soaked through.
The world tried to take him from her, and the battles he fought on his way back out are written across his body like brands.
“We thought you were gone,” she whispers. His jaw tightens, but his thumb brushes under her eye before she realizes she’s crying.
“Addison.” His hands slide to her face, firm but careful, grounding her. “I told you I’d come back.”
“It looks like you almost didn’t.”
“Yeah,” he admits. “I almost didn’t.”
The honesty in it wrecks her, and something inside her that wound itself so tight since the night he flew away, finally snaps.
She grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him down, cupping his face with her other palm as their lips meet.
Her mouth crashes against his in a way that betrays how badly she’s been starving for it, like she needs to prove he’s solid and warm and alive.
He stiffens in surprise for half a second before his hand slides into her hair, holding her there.
His lips are rough and cracked, but she can be soft enough for both of them today.
He makes a low sound in his throat, tilting his head, chasing her mouth with his own like a flame toward the last pocket of oxygen.
Every night she spent wondering if she’d ever see him again, every tear she shed wishing things had been different, every awful nightmare her brain conjured up during his absence, all fade into the background as her fingers curl in his shirt, and he pulls her flush against him.
It could only be fate allowing them one last chance to tangle up in each other, and she has no intention of wasting such a gift.
When he leans back, it’s only far enough for their foreheads to rest together, the heat of his skin soothing her chills.
“I had to fight like hell to get back to you,” he murmurs.
Her lips brush his again, softer this time. “And here you are.”
His exhale is shaky, and much as she wants to feel him again, there is something else that needs to be addressed first.
“I’m only gonna say this once,” she finds his eyes, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “If you ever give me a gun again, expecting that I’ll shoot you, I will. But that bullet is going directly in your ass.”
“Got it.”
Then she kisses him once more, their connection slower this time, until Emma runs out from the house, throwing herself against Wyatt’s side.
He chuckles, tucking her under one arm while the other wraps around Addison. “It’s damn good to see both my girls again.”