Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

G rady

The crumpled note in my hand feels heavier than it should, the words scrawled across it clawing at my chest like barbed wire. The cabin is eerily quiet, save for Bear’s soft snores by the fire, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.

I reread the note for the tenth time, hoping to make sense of it. I can’t stay. I’m sorry, Grady. This isn’t your fault.

My fist clenches around the paper as a string of curses rips from my throat. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting shadows that flicker across the walls. She left. She actually left.

“Damn it, Sarah,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. My boots slam against the wood floor as I pace, the weight of her absence pressing down on me like a lead blanket.

Bear lifts his head, his ears perking at my voice, and I pause to rub his head. “Where did she go, boy?” I ask him like he might actually answer. His tail thumps once before he rests his head back down, completely unfazed.

I don’t have time to sit around and stew. My gut twists with a mix of anger and fear. I grab my coat, shrugging it on as I stomp out the door, determination fueling my every step.

If she thinks she can just walk out of my life without a fight, she’s got another thing coming.

The truck’s engine rumbles to life, and I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. It’s still early, the sky painted in shades of pink and gold, but the cold air biting through the cracks in the cab does nothing to cool my temper.

I head straight for the Mountainside Motel. I don’t know how I know she’s there, but I do. It’s the only place she’d go, the only place she could go. I pull into the lot twenty minutes later, my eyes scanning the rows of rooms until I spot her car parked in front of one.

“Gotcha,” I mutter, killing the engine and stepping out.

I stomp to her door, my boots crunching against the icy gravel. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I raise my fist and knock.

The door opens a crack, and there she is, her eyes wide with surprise and rimmed red like she’s been crying all night. She’s wearing one of those soft sweaters she’s always in, and her hair’s a mess like she’s been pulling at it in frustration.

“Grady,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “What are you?—”

“Don’t even start,” I cut her off, my voice low and rough. I push the door open wider and step inside, towering over her as I kick it shut behind me. “What the hell, Sarah?”

She takes a step back, her arms wrapping around herself like she’s trying to shield herself from the force of my words. “I— I didn’t want to cause you any more trouble.”

“Trouble?” I bark out a humorless laugh, raking a hand through my hair. “You think leaving like that, without a word, wasn’t trouble? You think I wouldn’t come after you?”

Her lip trembles, and she looks away, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d want me anymore.”

My frustration boils over, and I take a step closer, forcing her to look at me. “Why the hell wouldn’t I want you? You think I don’t care? You think I’d just let you go without a fight?”

Tears spill down her cheeks, and she shakes her head, her voice breaking. “Because I’m not worth it, Grady. I’m just baggage. I’ll ruin your life like I ruin everything else.”

“Bullshit.” The word comes out harsher than I intended, and I see her flinch. I soften my tone, reaching out to cup her cheek, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You don’t get to decide what you’re worth to me, Sarah. You don’t get to run because you think you’re doing me a favor.”

She crumbles then, her sobs breaking free as she leans into my touch. “You don’t understand,” she cries. “The things people are saying about me... it’ll ruin you too. You deserve better.”

“I don’t give a damn what people are saying,” I growl, pulling her against me. “I know who you are, Sarah. I know the woman who bakes cookies for a dog she just met. I know the woman who lights up a room with her smile, even when she’s hurting inside. And I don’t want ‘better.’ I want you.”

Her hands clutch at my shirt, her tears soaking into the fabric as she buries her face against my chest. “I’m scared,” she admits, her voice muffled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” I tilt her chin up, my thumb brushing away her tears. “But you’re hurting me right now, running away like this. Don’t you see? You’re mine, Sarah. You’ve been mine since the moment Bear stole your damn cookies. And I’ll fight anyone who tries to take you away from me.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe, or just a reason to believe me. Whatever it is, I give it to her, holding her gaze with everything I’ve got.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her, my voice steady. “Not without you.”

She nods slowly, her tears still falling, but there’s something different in her expression now. A flicker of hope, fragile but growing.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Okay,” I repeat, pulling her closer. My lips brush against her forehead, a soft, lingering kiss meant to calm the storm inside her.

For a moment, we just stand there, wrapped up in each other. The weight of everything that’s been said hangs in the air, heavy but somehow freeing.

Then, because I can’t help myself, I smirk down at her, trying to lighten the mood. “Now, are you gonna pack that bag back up, or am I gonna have to carry you out of here kicking and screaming?”

A watery laugh escapes her, and she swats at my chest. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” I say, my grin widening. “But you like me anyway.”

Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her head, but I catch the smile tugging at her lips.

And just like that, I know we’re gonna be okay. Because Sarah isn’t just mine. She’s my home. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go.