Chapter 26

Ididn't know whether to be entertained or not that he'd actually expected me to sleep when he'd untied me from the chair and moved the ropes from the bed before lying down next to me. After that, he'd even wrapped his arms around my waist, acting for all the world like we were some happy couple and completely ignoring the fact that my wrists were tied to the bed. The bruises, which were rising on my face, were pressing against my arm, both of which were tied up so high that my shoulders were almost pulled out of their sockets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to what was going on inside of my head.

With every exhale he made against my neck, the more nauseous I felt. He definitely hadn't taken care of himself since I'd left him. That was proven in the fact that his hair, which he'd been notoriously vain about when we'd been together, was long and lank, and I had a feeling that his teeth hadn't been brushed when he'd come to bed.

I couldn't stop thinking about Dillon and the way I'd woken up in his arms yesterday morning. I couldn't stop thinking about how angry Dillon was with me when I got back to the cabin the night before last and how I'd refused to listen to him about the rules he'd put into place for my safety.

I wanted to be back with him. I wanted to be back in his arms, in his bed.

In the fog of the last day, I'd never even considered the option that Dillon wasn't alive, but at one point while Alex had been hitting me, he'd cracked some comment about how one of his bullets had caught my "dumbass, meathead boyfriend," and I'd had to choke out tears. The idea that Dillon had somehow died as a result of what Alex had done hadn't even entered my head as a possibility, in the same way that me not getting out of here hadn't, but then I remembered the way that one of those bullets had sped by his head. I vaguely remembered his truck coming after us, but I might've been hallucinating.

I couldn't think of it. Dillon had always seemed so strong to me, almost overpowering. It was one of the reasons I'd found his controlling nature so obnoxious. But now, I just thought of the idea of him being shot by my spineless ex as being inconceivable.

The thoughts continued to whirl in my mind, making my head feel like a merry-go-round of insanity, and I knew that sleep was a long way off, but that didn't stop me from trying everything I could think of to settle.

The door banged open, slamming against the wall, and I heard Alex behind me saying "What the—" before a scuffle ensued, and the rest of his words were muffled. I tried to turn to look at him, but the ropes were too tight, and my arms were pulled too far that I couldn't twist that far without breaking one.

Suddenly, an older man appeared in front of me, kneeling down and pushing back my hair to examine my face. "Macy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Sheriff Wayleigh. I'm here to help you. You're safe now."

He started untying the ropes from around my wrists, and when he finally got them undone, I tried to get up too fast and almost fell on my face.

"Whoa there," he said, rushing forward and grabbing me before I could kiss the carpet. "I've got you."

"Where's Dillon?" I asked, looking around the room as he helped me outside. I looked to where the two officers had Alex on the ground and were restraining his hands, and he was screaming bloody murder about how he was going to sue the fuck out of the police in this one-horse town.

I was very tempted to remind him that he was currently breaking his right to remain silent, but I figured he didn't need any help from me; he could hang himself just fine. He saw me and started screaming my name as if he were being stabbed with it, and I did my best to be as cold as I could as I turned away from him and back to the sheriff.

"Where's Dillon? Please tell me that he's okay."

Sheriff Wayleigh had his arm around me as he brought me out to the hallway but smiled as he gestured with his chin over my shoulder. "See for yourself."

I turned slowly, but it didn't stop the spinning of my head as I saw Dillon start heading toward me. I didn't even register the sheriff's cautioning words as I broke away from him and headed toward Dillon, ignoring the fact that I tripped over my own feet on my way to him.

The sheriff didn't have anything to worry about, though; Dillon caught me as soon as I reached the circle of his arms, and he pulled me up and into him. I buried my face in his neck and wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing him in.

"I thought he'd shot you. I thought you might be dead," I whispered, my throat closing over the words.

"Thankfully, your ex-asshole has really, really shitty aim."

I pulled back from his neck, needing to look into his face and touch him. His eyes went dead as he took in the bruises that had formed, spreading over the whole left side of my face and neck.

"I'll kill him. I'm going to destroy him—"

"No, you won't," I said, my voice firm. "Do you think I survived this shit just for you to go to jail?"

He blinked before chuckling, his laugh quiet and throaty, and I leaned up to kiss him, not caring about the fact that people were looking, not caring about how my mouth tasted, not caring about anything as I devoured him. He returned the favor, holding me close with my feet not even touching the ground.

I didn't know how long we stood like that, but soon enough, Dillon pulled away from me, turning to look at the sheriff with frustration. The older man barely seemed to register his annoyance, though, as he said, "We're about to take her assailant away, now, if you guys want to leave." He turned to me with concern. "We're going to need to get your statement, Macy, but all of that can wait until you go to the doctor to get checked out."

I was suddenly reminded of the baby, and I thought of trying to keep that secret from Dillon when he would probably want to stay by my side the entire time. "I don't need—"

"Yes, you do," Dillon said firmly. "Did he knock you out?"

I held his gaze for a while before nodding with resignation. "Yeah."

"Then you need to get checked." He turned to the sheriff. "Is there any way one of your guys can meet us at the hospital?"

Sheriff Wayleigh nodded. "I'll send my deputy to take your statement."

I nodded too. "I'd like to get it all out of the way as quickly as possible."

Dillon wrapped his arm around me protectively before turning away. "Come on, babe. Let's get going."

My heart thudded at the sound of him calling me that, and I briefly wondered whether he'd heard my thought that I wanted him to call me babe outside of bed. The two of us walked slowly out to the parking lot, where he led me to an unfamiliar pickup truck that was idling by the door. Despite the fact that I didn't remember the truck, I did recognize the man standing next to him.

"Hank!" I cried, walking over to him and reaching up to fling my arms around him. He hugged me in return, wrapping his arms around me tightly but carefully.

"We were real worried about you, honey."

"I'm okay," I said, feeling the tears roll down my face. "I'm okay."

"Thank God," he said, touching my face with a sort of familial affection. He pulled back from me, opening the door to the back seat and holding it for me. I climbed in, surprised to see that Dillon had gotten in with me. As the sirens and flashing lights died away, I finally felt the adrenaline start to die down and allowed the tears to start flowing of their own accord. Without giving a second thought to the fact that we were still moving, Dillon unbuckled my seat belt, reached over, and pulled me onto him so that I was sitting on his lap. He cradled me, not saying anything as he pulled my face into his chest. I gave in to the feelings, simply allowing them to move through me.

"We going to your place, Dillon?" Hank asked from the front seat.

"Hospital," Dillon replied, soothing my hair down and kissing my face, not seeming to care that the tears were flowing freely onto his shirt. "But make a detour to Main Street for a second? I have to make a pit stop."

I looked up at him curiously, and he shook his head, smiling before leaning down again and devoting his energy to kissing me once more. I was tempted to point out that we weren't alone, but most of me couldn't be bothered.

When he pulled up to Main Street, Dillon stroked my cheekbone with his thumb before climbing out and heading up the street behind me. I was too tired to try to watch for where he went, so I just settled into the seat, sighing.

"I know you're safe now," Hank said, from the front seat, catching my eye in the rearview mirror, "and that means you can go back to your normal life, but I hope you'll consider staying. I've never seen Dillon like this before, and I hope it's a permanent change."

I blinked up at him, surprised. "You've never seen him like what?"

"Happy. In love."

I didn't bother to hide my surprise as my mouth dropped open. I didn't say anything in response to his outlandish statement, despite the fact that I knew it was mutual.

"I can think of a good number of girls in this town who would love to know how you did it."

I gave a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "I don't even know how I'd begin to answer that. I couldn't have planned anything about this situation, especially not Dillon, or anything to do with him. I thought I'd die never being able to trust anyone again, and as for the rest—"

I clamped my mouth shut, looking away from him. I couldn't say the words out loud to anyone before I'd told Dillon himself.

"Well," he said, turning around in his seat, "I know you didn't ask, but for whatever an old guy's thoughts are worth, you should tell him everything that's in your heart. If you don't, you could wind up losing out on something that might make your life everything you ever wanted it to be."

I looked at him, and in that moment, I knew just how much he'd seen when I'd snuck down to his gas station. I swallowed hard before turning away from him.

Just then, the car door opened, and Dillon got in, taking my hand again and looking at me with a tight smile.

"What was that about?" I asked, leaning into him.

"I had to get some stuff done. It couldn't wait. But also…" Out of his pocket, he pulled out a bag of mini peanut butter chocolate cups and his cell phone.

I couldn't help my slightly hysterical laugh. "Seriously? After all the shit you gave me?"

"I figured after everything you've been through, you deserve some chocolate." He held out his phone, and I was amazed to see that it was open on a contact card: Eliza Renner.

I looked up at him, and he just smiled and said, "Your mom asked me to call with an update, but I figured she'd like to hear from you more."

I couldn't help leaning up to kiss him as hard as I could before pressing the green phone icon next to her name.

"Dillon? Please tell me you have good news." My mom's voice was frantic.

"I think he would give you really good news, if he were the one calling you," I said, twining my fingers with his.

"Oh my God! My baby! Thank God you're back!" My mom's voice was so loud that I had to pull the phone away to spare my ear. Then I heard her start crying and brought it back to my ear.

"I'm okay, Mommy. I'm okay." I never called her Mommy, but there was something about hearing her cry like that made me need to comfort like I had as a kid. "I'm okay, and we're gonna be free of him."

"He kept his promise," she said through her tears.

"What do you mean?"

"Dillon," she responded. "He promised that he'd get you back safely. He promised me that, and he delivered."

I felt the tears start to flow down my own cheeks again as I turned to look up at Dillon. His face, though it was still tight when he looked back at me, had a certain softness behind the eyes that made my stomach hurt. I laid my head on his shoulder as I said, "Yeah, he did."