AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Paxton: Yes.
I can’t help but laugh. I wonder if he’s this funny in real life. For a few weeks, we’ve been texting back and forth. I feel normal when we text, not the broken girl, even though he was the one who rescued me. It’s like my brain has separated the two.
Me: Okay. You said yes. Meet me here on Saturday.
Paxton: Time?
Oh, shit. This is really happening.
Me: Um…three?
Paxton: See you at three.
At exactly three o’clock, Paxton stands at the front door. My belly aches from nerves as I open the door and our eyes meet. I might not have thought this through. It’s been two months since we saw each other in the hospital. Talking through texts has been easy.
This isn’t easy.
“Hi,” I say, trying to act normal. Trying to breathe normally.
His smile, softened by the rough stubble and intense eyes, surprisingly steadies me. “Hey,” he says, breaking the awkward tension. “I brought a friend.”
“Riggs!” I exclaim, beaming as I notice the dog I’d missed in my focus on Paxton. I kneel to give him some deep rubs behind his ears before standing back up when I hear Ted behind me.
Ted insisted on meeting him before we left. It felt weird and wonderful having a father figure worry about me. Having both Amy and Ted so invested in my healing has helped me become a stronger version of myself. Zander may be the one who is equipping me physically, but dinnertime conversations around the dining table, movies on the couch, and laughter with Ted and Amy have made me feel so much stronger emotionally.
I’ve never felt this cared for—loved—since I lost my parents.
Introductions are made quickly, and we’re out the door. I needed to rush things along because the longer I stood there, the more second thoughts crept in.
Paxton opens the door for me and asks where we’re headed. I bite my lip, hesitating as he stares at me with a lifted brow. “We’re going back to the spot.”
He does a hard nod and shuts my door without a word. He probably thinks I’m crazy. When he gets in, I wait for him to say something—anything—but he stays silent, putting the Jeep in drive and heading down the dirt drive.
Minutes pass before he finally asks, “You sure about this?” His focus is on me as the wind swirls around us in the open Jeep.
Stray hairs dance in the gusts, and I all but give up keeping them in check. I try to control the jittery nerves, my leg bouncing with pent-up energy. As I chew my inner cheek, my eyes fix on Paxton, still surprised he’s here.
I fidget in my seat. “This is stupid, isn’t it?” Please say it is.
“This is your thing. Personally, I’d rather never see that place again, but if it’s something you need to do, I’m happy you called me.” Riggs barks in the back seat, and Paxton gives him a side eye over his shoulder. “Okay, us. Called us. Better?” Riggs barks again, making me laugh. He can’t be that smart, can he?
Paxton’s crooked smile sends a subtle thrill in places it shouldn’t. He’s so good-looking. I avert my eyes forward and focus on the monotonous stretch of road ahead, rather than on the muscles in his arms or the way his sturdy fingers grip the wheel. Or how sexy he looks with his baseball cap backward. There’s something familiar about him with his cap on, but I can’t place it. He looks younger. But my thoughts, at the moment, are a chaotic mess when all I can focus on is my next phase: confronting my chamber of horror.
What is wrong with me? Dr. Betty mentioned alternative approaches to confront my trauma, but I must do this on my own. A way to prove to myself that he didn’t win. I think of the worn paper in my pocket. Don’t give him control.
Needing a distraction, and clearly Paxton is a distraction, I shift in my seat.
“Are you married? Or have a girlfriend?” Brown eyes turn toward me with a hint of amusement. I wave him off as if I’m not asking for a personal inquiry. Maybe I’m asking for a friend. “If a lady calls me upset about her husband spending time with me, I want to be prepared. I should’ve asked this before.”
His laugh catches in the wind. I love his laugh. It’s carefree and infectious and what I need right now. “If some woman calls you saying she’s my wife, I’m gonna need a heads-up so I can get a restraining order in place.”
“Girlfriend?” I press, because there’s no way this guy is unattached. Not looking like that. He loves his dog, and he’s a live-action hero. Saving people every day, myself included.
He shakes his head, and I remain still, shooting him an incredulous glare because it’s difficult to believe. He shrugs. “I date. I haven’t found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with yet.”
Riggs sticks his head between the two of us and I scratch it. You need to approve of her too, huh?
But any fluttering butterflies in my chest die a swift death the second the Jeep veers off the main road. Even though I don’t know our location, an eerie sense of closeness fills the air. The stench is already clogging up my throat. I’m thrown back in time. My hands grip the bar in front of me, and I squeeze my eyes shut in sheer terror.
