Chapter 47
Forty-Seven
Griffin
I’ve been dreading this moment for two weeks.
It hasn’t been a constant fear every day, but it’s been lingering in the background. It was the shape of what was waiting at the end of the road. The fallout and the life she left mid-sentence were going to need finishing, whether she was ready or not.
The moment I turn onto her parents’ street, Piper falls silent.
She’s been staring out the window for fifteen minutes, her jaw clenched and her hands twisting in her lap.
The closer we get, the more she curls inward.
When I pull into the driveway, she doesn’t move.
She just sits there, breathing as if each inhale carries weight.
I kill the engine. “Pipes?”
She forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yep. Home.”
“You’re going to hyperventilate if you don’t breathe.”
She shakes her head and inhales a steadying breath until the act drops. “I’m going to have to move back in with my parents,” she whispers. “I didn’t think this through.” Her voice wobbles, and it hits something deep in me.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her.
She laughs once. “Yeah. Sure. After I go face my ex and pack up the remnants of my life. Easy.”
Before I can say anything else, Arthur steps onto the porch. He looks at us, rubbing the back of his neck. Piper rolls down her window.
“Piper,” he calls. “There’s something you should know.”
Arthur nods toward the end of the driveway. That’s when I see the silver Audi parked and waiting with Ezra leaning against the driver’s door.
“He shows up every day,” Arthur mutters as he comes down the path. “He says he needs to talk to you.”
Piper’s breath stumbles. I get out of the car, walk around to her side, and open her door. Arthur pulls her into his arms the moment she’s within reach.
She holds on, squeezing his shoulders and whispering, “I’m okay, Dad.”
I stand by the car and wait. Arthur gives me a look that’s both helpless and grateful over her head.
When she pulls back, she glances at the Audi.
Ezra straightens up. He’s dressed like he always is, pressed and arranged with nothing out of place.
He looks across the roof of the car at Piper with that long, assessing look I’ve watched her brace against before.
His gaze moves over her new clothes, her hair, and her bare face. Then it moves to me, and he smirks.
“Well,” he says, walking around the car. He looks her up and down one more time. “Fuck. He brought you home well used.”
The growl is out of my mouth before I’ve decided to make it. My vision snaps hot, and my fist hits his jaw so hard the impact travels up my arm to my shoulder. Ezra goes sideways into the car. I grab his collar because I’m not finished with him.
“That,” I say, my voice a low snarl, “is the last time you will ever speak about her like that.”
I hit him again, and this time he goes down. I’m reaching for him a third time when two hands grab my arms from behind.
“Griffin. Enough.” Noah drags me back with both hands.
I let him pull me back because he’s my best friend and because the alternative is continuing. Some part of me knows that’s not what Piper needs right now.
I straighten up and take a deep breath. Ezra is on the ground beside the car, his hand pressed against his jaw.
I don’t give a fuck because when I glance at Piper, she’s shrinking—her shoulders hunched and her head bowed.
I can see the old pattern trying to come back.
It’s the thing Ezra spent years building in her. The automatic flinch.
No. Not fucking happening. Not to her.
I close the distance between us and take her face in both hands. I ignore every set of eyes on us and look at her directly. “Don’t let him do it to you,” I say. “Baby, you promised me.”
It takes a few seconds, but she inhales and lifts her chin. The color returns to her face.
“I promise.” Her voice cracks, but she means it. “I still need to deal with this.”
I hold her face because I don’t like this. Every part of me wants to stay between her and the man who made her feel like a mistake for years. But she’s asking me to trust her to do it herself.
It almost kills me, but I drop my hands. She looks at me for one more second, then she turns and adjusts her shoulders and walks toward Ezra with a straight back.
“We should go inside and talk,” she tells him.
She doesn’t look back, so all I can do now is watch her go. Ezra goes with her, shaking off the hit.
Madison appears at my side and hugs me hard. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For looking after her.”
I rest my chin against the top of her head. Rowan stands behind her, giving me a small, tight smile before they both follow Piper inside.
“She’ll be alright,” Arthur says, squeezing my shoulder before he returns to the house, too.
When the front door closes, the quiet is deafening.
Noah stays with me. He doesn’t speak immediately. He just stands there looking at the door with his jaw tight.
“Don’t,” I say.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You were.”
“Fine.” He turns to face me. “Honestly, if you didn’t do it, I would have.” He watches the door like he wants to kick it down. “How bad was it?”
“Noah,” I plead.
“I need to know. What are we talking about? Did he ever put his hands on her?”
“No.”
“Then how bad?”
I breathe in through my nose. I think about her on the bathroom floor. I think about the music being turned down and the empty lists. I think about a woman who checked whether she was taking up too much space every time she spoke.
“He controlled everything,” I tell him. “Her clothes. Her hair. Her time. She had to ask his permission before she wore an outfit. He made her feel small. Worthless.”
Noah’s face changes until all I can see is anger and grief simmering there.
“My sister,” he snaps. “That fucker. He doesn’t know how lucky he was.”
He starts to turn toward the house, but I press a hand to his chest. “Let her deal with it, Noah. She needs to do this herself. You going in there takes it away from her.”
He’s a psychologist, and I can almost see the cogs turning as he places the blame on his own shoulders.
“You couldn’t have known,” I say, leaning back against the car. “He was careful. It was designed not to be seen. She didn’t even see it herself until she was outside of it.”
Noah paces one more length of the path and comes back. He looks at me, his voice lower now. “You looked after her.” It’s not a question.
The prickling guilt moves through me anyway. It’s not for what happened, but for the simplicity of what he’s saying versus the full weight of what it means.
My head falls between my shoulders. “I looked after her.”
Noah holds my gaze for a moment. “Then watching her walk in there with him must be killing you right now.”
I look at the house and the closed door. My heart contorts because I’m fairly sure the other half of it is in that house.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking shit.”
Noah puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Come on, brother. Let’s grab a beer.”
I look back at the door. Noah follows my gaze. The older-brother thing drops away, replaced by a small smile.
“Griffin, Madison and Rowan are in there. That poor fucker was safer with us.”
I stand on the path for one more minute before I turn.
Behind us, the house holds everything I want to stay for.
I trust her completely, but I still hate every second of it.