Chapter 29

chapter twenty-nine

Addie

"I think you might be the best husband in the entire world."

Grant's lip twitches from the driver's seat as he glances over at me. "You think , baby?"

"Okay, fine. You're definitely the best," I reply sweetly. "Who else would take their wife to get ice cream at almost midnight?"

To be fair, it's entirely his fault that I'm up this late. I was nearly asleep when he climbed into bed and wrapped me up in his arms, pressing lingering kisses along the curve of my neck until I was breathless.

Not that I'm complaining, because I got two incredible orgasms out of it, per usual.

I've been craving pecan praline ice cream from my favorite ice cream parlor, and when I told Grant as we lay in bed, he immediately got dressed and said he was taking me, even though it was the middle of the night.

Add it to the very long list of reasons why I'm head over heels in love with this man.

I've never felt like a priority to… anyone. Until Grant.

With him, I feel worthy of love. Worthy of being put first. He makes me feel adored and cherished in ways that I never thought I would ever experience.

"If you ask for it, it's yours, Addie," he says as he reaches over the console and curves his large palm along the top of my thigh.

New turn-on unlocked? My husband holding my thigh as he drives. My gaze rakes along his handsome profile as my teeth rake over my bottom lip. The veiny, defined muscles of his arms flex subtly as he grips the wheel, and it's entirely too hot.

"I love you," I say with a smile. "Not just because you take me to get ice cream in the middle of the night, but… it definitely helps."

He laughs. "I'm just glad that they're open twenty-four hours, but then again, everything here is."

Lucky me.

Grant's thumb brushes gently along my thigh absentmindedly as he drives, and I sink back into the seat. Although I've lived here my entire life, it still surprises me when I see how alive the city is this late at night. New Orleans is truly a city that never sleeps. A constant stream of people, food, and music. Especially in the French Quarter.

"Did I tell you that Reese invited us to his place for New Y?—"

The loud shrill of my phone ringing drowns out Grant, and my brow pinches in confusion as I grab it from the cup holder. My phone never goes off this late. The only people who call me anyway are Amos or Earl, and they're generally asleep by seven since they're up at three for work.

When I see what the notification is on the glowing screen, I suck in a sharp breath, fumbling to swipe my finger along the phone to open it.

"What is it?"

"It's… It's the alarm company, Grant. The alarm's been tripped, and they're dispatching emergency services." My eyes flick to him as a wave of panic makes my chest constrict.

Grant's jaw works before he mumbles, "Fuck."

Oh god… is this happening all over again?

"Addie, baby, it's okay. It could just be a false alarm. We're only a few blocks away—we'll go check it out. Make sure everything's good." He turns down a side road in the direction of Ever After.

He's right—it could be a false alarm, but after the break-in, I can't help but worry as another wave of panic claws at my throat.

I exhale and inhale in a steady rhythm, desperately trying to keep it together, reminding myself that I could be working myself up for nothing.

I hear the wail of sirens echoing off the buildings of the narrow street just as we turn down it. There are fire trucks parked in front of the bakery, their red lights painting everything crimson in their wake as I attempt to register what's happening in front of me.

The bakery… It's on fire. I'm frozen in shock, in pure terror as I watch the place I love more than anything in the world engulfed in a fury of flames.

Grant slams the truck into park as close as he can get, and I don't think, I don't even breathe as I reach for the door handle, wrenching it open and bounding from the truck. I don't make it far before I feel his arms wrapping tightly around my waist, stopping me from running toward the building.

Thick, black smoke billows from the roof as flames lick the sky. The smell of smoke and burning wood fills the air so thickly that I nearly choke. My worst nightmare is happening right in front of me, and I… I'm completely helpless. There's nothing I can do, and the thought makes me want to vomit.

I might, actually—my body is trembling so hard that I feel like I'm going to be sick as a heartbroken sob tears from my mouth, hot tears blurring my vision as I watch my mother's legacy burn.

It's pain unlike anything I've ever felt. I imagine even the burn of those flames wouldn't hurt my body as badly as I feel watching them destroy our beloved bakery right now.

"Breathe, baby. Stay with me," Grant says into my ear, running his hands along my arms soothingly in an attempt to calm me down. I desperately try to suck in a breath.

Up ahead, there are firefighters attempting to tame the fire, their hoses shooting powerful streams of water into the flames. It seems from a distance that… maybe it's just the kitchen that's on fire right now, and the smallest tendril of relief snakes up my spine. I hold on to it desperately because I have to believe that these men are going to save some of Ever After.

I refuse to believe any differently, no matter what it looks like in front of me. I have to hold on to hope because if not, then I'll have nothing.

"W-we have to talk to them, find out what's h-happening." I stumble over my words. "Please."

Grant steps beside me and slips his hand in mine, holding tighter than ever as we walk closer to the bakery. Each step is like a shard of glass puncturing my heart, twisting. The heat radiating from the bakery is palpable the closer we get, making the air shimmer with waves of warmth. Smoke clogs my nose.

They've roped off the exterior of the building with the bright yellow caution tape that you would see at a crime scene and blocked off the driveway.

"Sir," Grant calls, flagging down a man wearing a suit and tie with some type of badge hanging around his neck.

He walks toward us, his jaw set in a hard line. "This area is closed to the public. It's not safe for you to be here."

Grant shakes his head vehemently. "This is my wife's bakery."

The man's gaze flicks to me, and I nod.

"My name is Matty Bishop, and I'm an investigator with the NOFD. I know this is a very difficult time for you, and I'm sorry that we're having to meet under these circumstances," he says with a solemn expression, dark, thick brows pinched together as he speaks.

Thankfully, Grant is able to take over speaking with him because I'm in such shock that I'm frozen. I can't even wrap my head around what's going on, let alone have a coherent conversation. "Do you think they'll be able to stop the fire before it consumes the building?"

Investigator Bishop glances toward the bakery and back to us, "Right now, it's too early to determine the full extent of the damage, but I've been doing this for over a decade, and it looks like they've begun to extinguish it. I don't think it's going to be a total loss. I'll have more once it's safe to enter the building and we conduct a thorough investigation to assess the damage fully."

Oh god. There's… hope. Hope that I'm going to cling to with all that I have.

Grant tightens his arm around me, exhaling a deep, ragged sigh as he nods. "That's reassuring. Thank you and your team for working so hard to get it put out."

"Generally in our investigation, we work to figure out the cause, but upon arrival, we were able to confirm arson since we caught the perpetrator as he attempted to flee the premises. We're holding him over there for questioning." Investigator Bishop points across the street.

My hand flies to my mouth as I see a familiar face sitting on the curb, handcuffs bracketing his wrists.

Brent.

I'm trembling so hard that my teeth are chattering, and I feel like my legs may give out with a dangerous combination of fear, adrenaline, and anger as I try to let this all sink in.

Brent set my mother's bakery on fire…

"I've called in backup with the NOPD so I can remain on scene, but he's being arrested for arson here tonight." Someone calls his name near the building, and he raises his hand, acknowledging it. "I need to head over there. We're doing everything we can to get this fire out. I'll have some questions later that I'll need answered, so please stay on scene at a safe distance from the fire."

"Thank you," Grant says, reaching out and shaking his hand. "We appreciate it."

Investigator Bishop nods and turns, leaving us alone with my stepfather sitting in handcuffs along the curb.

The fact that Brent is being arrested should bring me a sense of relief, knowing that he'll pay for what he did, but it honestly only makes me angry. That he would do something so vile, so evil.

The shuffle of gravel scraping against the pavement sounds behind me, causing me to jump, and I whip around. Out of my peripheral, I think I see a darkened shadow in the bushes next to the building next door, and I think it looks like a… person ?

"Grant," I whisper. "I-I think someone's in the… bushes. Over there."

It's so dark that I can't really see if it's my mind playing tricks on me or if there's someone really there. I'm so amped up on adrenaline that I could be imagining it completely, but I would swear that there's someone there. Why would someone be hiding in a bush?

Grant's brow pinches as he squints, trying to see what I do, and then he turns to me. "Stay here, baby, where the investigator can see you."

Abruptly, he takes off toward the other side of the building, disappearing into the darkness, and my heart thrashes wildly as I wait. My eyes continually scan my surroundings, cataloging every sound, every movement. My panicked gaze returns to Brent on the curb near where Investigator Bishop is standing and talking to another person in uniform.

A loud grunt sounds from the darkness, and I gasp, covering my mouth with one hand as I desperately try to see beyond the shadows.

There's another pained grunt, closer this time, followed by the sound of something hard hitting the ground.

I'm going to pass out. Or have a heart attack. In either order.

Tears prick in my eyes, and I squint, trying to blink them away when, suddenly, there's a shadowed body striding toward me, and then I forget how to breathe completely.

I hold the breath inside of me, too afraid to move or make a sound until my lungs begin to burn, and even then, I don't dare to move a single inch.

Then, I see it's Grant walking toward me.

And… he's not alone.

He's practically dragging someone with him, and I wait on a burning, bated breath for the moonlight to illuminate them both. I need to see that he's okay.

I need to make sure he's not hurt.

Oh my god.

Dixon?

Finally, his face comes fully into view as Grant tosses him roughly onto the concrete only feet from where I'm standing. There's a trickle of blood seeping from his nose and split lip where Grant must have hit him. The skin around his eye is red, angry, and beginning to swell, making him squint to see.

I shift my eyes to Grant, running them over his entire body, desperately searching for reassurance that he's okay. I see a bright crimson stain on his gray shirt, and my hand flies to my mouth, covering it.

"It's not mine, baby," he murmurs. "I'm okay."

I nod frantically. "Okay. Okay." I realize I'm repeating it over and over incoherently, but all of this is too much for me to take in. I'm so angry… so hurt, that I feel like I could detonate. A ticking time bomb that's finally reached the end of the fuse.

"Look, man," Dixon grunts, attempting to rise off the ground, lifting on his hands and knees, but Grant plants his foot in the middle of his back and roughly pushes him back to the concrete, where he groans. Rolling to his side, he spits, and blood coats the pavement. "I didn't do shit. It was all that asshole. I said this shit was too far, and I didn't want anything to do with it. I'm not going to fucking jail. Especially not for him."

His beady gaze shifts to my stepfather on the curb, and finally, Brent lifts his head, a deadly look in his dark, black eyes as he scoffs. "You're a fucking pussy, Dixon. You realize that? Shut the fuck up, and don't say another goddamn word."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather be a pussy than someone's bitch in prison. I'm singing like a fucking canary if it keeps me out. All of this bullshit was you, and I'm not going down for you," Dixon mutters as he clutches his side.

I knew it. In my heart, I knew that they were behind the break-in, but hearing him admit it ?

It's the moment that I feel myself break. Where I'm done holding back. I'm done letting myself be taken advantage of and hurt.

And for what? What reason could he have for doing this?

I whip around toward Brent, my voice so quiet it's deadly. "Why? Why would you do this? What could you possibly have to gain from doing this?

Silence meets my question for only a second until Brent laughs without humor. "I hope the motherfucker burns to the ground and there's nothing left but goddamn ashes."

My stomach twists as bile rises in my throat. Grant lunges for him, but I reach out, grasping his arm tightly.

"You're the most evil man I've ever known," I say to Brent as the tears in my eyes fall harder, coating my cheeks. "Tell me why—I deserve that much. I deserve to know how you could do something so evil and cruel. Tell me."

My voice cracks as Brent shakes his head. He peers up at me, hands cuffed tightly behind his back. "Because this piece-of-shit bakery was always supposed to be mine . I played the long game. I took your pathetic orphan ass in when you had no one else. This is the payment I fucking deserved , and you ruined it. You ruined it all. You stupid, naive little bitch. I was always going to take this place from you. You just made it inherently more difficult." His voice shakes before he pauses. "If I can't take it from you to sell the land—which is worth millions, by the way—then I'll burn the thing to the fucking ground and get the insurance money. If I can't have it, then neither can you."

Anger courses through me in a powerful, all-consuming current. My fingernails cut into my palms as I fist my hands at my sides, making bloody half-moons in my skin.

"It was all about money to you, you greedy, selfish man. All this was was money. Your only motive was to line your pockets. All of this? Destroying the bakery, the one thing left of your wife, so you could cash in," I nearly spit.

I feel Grant at my side, his arm looping around my waist and pulling my trembling frame against him. If I wasn't so keyed up on my anger, I would probably collapse into him, but right now, all I can focus on is the man at my feet. The one who deserves every ounce of the anger, hurt, and pain I'm feeling right now.

Dixon may be an accomplice, but he's a stupid one. I have no doubt that Brent was the mastermind behind all of this.

Brent's eyes gleam with a chilling light as he chuckles. The sound is completely unnerving. "You have no fucking idea the lengths I would go to make sure the money was mine. I've been setting this up for years. Waiting for the day that I could make it happen. It was pure fucking luck that this dumb fuck and his father fell into my lap. Had he not turned out to be such a pussy and seen this shit through to the end like he was supposed to, I wouldn't be sitting here in fucking handcuffs."

The first police cruiser comes to a skid at the end of the street, signaling this nightmare is almost over, and I use the minutes, maybe seconds, I have left to get the only closure I think I'll ever get from the man who's done nothing but lie, manipulate, and hurt me my entire life.

He planted a seed long ago that had taken root, growing into something nefarious and destroying the things I love most, using the guise of what was best for me to deceive me and water his poisonous plan.

So, I keep my gaze trained on Brent as I lean into my husband, soaking in his quiet strength and fierce protection. He's giving me this moment, even though I know that he probably wants to finish what he started, and I'm thankful that he understands me in a way that no one else does.

"You know, I feel sorry for you," I say over the sound of the sirens and crackling fire. The bitter smoke makes my eyes sting and my nose burn as I suck in an unsteady breath. "I can't imagine how truly miserable your life must have been. How pathetically miserable you must have been to let your entire life be ruined for greed. What about Tad? What about your son? Your own flesh and blood."

"He's a fucking adult, and he doesn't need his daddy to hold his hand," Brent scoffs, eyes bouncing between Grant and me. "Unlike you, he'll graduate college and pass the bar, become an attorney that can actually support himself instead of some silly fucking dream to paint shit for a living."

"Watch your fucking mouth." Grant seethes next to me, his entire body coiled tight, ready to strike. "If it wasn't for her, you'd be out on that fucking pavement."

Bringing my hand to his stomach, I peer up at him and murmur, "It's okay. He's not worth it. He never was."

He gives me a tight, slight nod and draws me tighter against his body.

In the span of seconds, red and blue lights bathe the parking lot, the sound of police sirens blaring so loudly that my ears sting with the proximity.

Dixon makes one last attempt to run for it, but Grant lunges for him, tossing him to the ground with so much force that I wince when his face hits the pavement with a sickening crunch.

"I truly hope that it was worth it," I say, offering Brent one last look, one last moment of attention that he doesn't even deserve. But it's not for him—it's for me . "If my mom were here right now, she'd be disgusted by the vile person that you are, but I'm just glad that she never had to see it. Goodbye, Brent."

Everything happens so quickly after the moment that I walk away, tucked into Grant's side, that I can hardly keep up.

I don't look back.

I don't watch as officers haul Brent off the curb or even as they handcuff Dixon and put them both in the back of the cop car. I don't watch as they pull away, the lights fading in the distance.

I simply close my eyes and lean into Grant as he wraps the blanket around us as we sit in the back of the ambulance. The adrenaline of everything that's happened tonight begins to fade, leaving me raw with a hundred tumultuous emotions.

Sagging against Grant's chest, I bury my face into his shirt as the first sob racks my body. I'm emotionally and physically spent, exhaustion seeping into my bones and making my entire body feel heavy.

I feel the soft press of his lips against my hair, his arms tightening around me, holding me through the pent-up release of hurt as it flows out of me.

I lost so much tonight, more than I can even wrap my head around right now. But there's one thing I gained out of all the hurt, pain, and manipulation I've endured.

The love of my life.

In this life and every life.