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He eyes Bennett’s approach, and I swear he looks nervous. But there isn’t some kind, simpering look. It’s a sinister, mocking smirk I recognize. One that makes me back up just a step, before I steady myself.

Bennett is here. Alessia is here. Adam is here. No one is going to hurt me.

As if she knows where my thoughts have gone, Sadie’s hand dusts over my shoulder and squeezes. I’m grateful for the support, more than she knows, but my eyes are locked on Bennett as he approaches my nightmare of the last seven years.

Ethan opens his mouth and spits something at Bennett. Something vile, clearly, by Alessia’s reaction. Adam, jaw clenched, fury bright on his face, has to cage her in again as she reaches to hit him.

But no one is there to stop Bennett.

My boyfriend lets his fist fly.

Blood sprays from Ethan’s nose and Adam let’s Alessia go, shoving her body behind his and grasping his son’s biceps. Though Adam doesn’t look disapproving so much as protective, pulling Bennett closer to him.

Bennett doesn’t say anything to Ethan—only stares at him for a long time, nostrils flaring, jaw locked, as if there’s so much he wants to spew at him, he can’t get it out.

Instead, Bennett turns away, shrugging out of his dad’s grip and quickly walking back to me.

He looks intense, like an avenging angel, a bit of blood splattered across his shirt as he stalks toward me quickly. There is a practiced calm there, covering the simmering fury underneath.

“Come here, P,” he whispers, opening his arms and pulling me into his embrace, tucking his hands into my hair as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re okay. Everything is gonna be okay.”

He keeps whispering phrases over me as I sink into his body.

“You’re okay.” Fingers combing through my hair, careful of a few knots I’ve created. “Nothing is going to hurt you again. Ever.” A kiss to my temple, the scratch of stubble. “I’m not leaving you alone. I’m here.” His fingers on my wrist, pulling my right hand to kiss around the busted skin, careful, as if I’m made of glass.

Adam is still calming everyone down in the corner, conversing with an older officer who I assume might be in charge. Alessia appears next to us and speaks quickly to Max and Rhys, who both nod and then leave, Sadie sandwiched between their tall forms. Then she ushers me, still in Bennett’s arms, into an empty conference room. Adam follows in after us.

“They need to talk to you—to open a report,” Alessia says, sitting on the lip of the table, crossing her legs. “After that, we can go home.”

I nod, not bothering to ask for any clarification, but a little rush of worry sneaks up my spine. “I don’t want to go in alone. I don’t trust—”

Adam raises his hand and nods. “Alessia has made everything quite clear to me. That won’t be an issue. I promise.” There is a vow in his words, the same steadiness I see in Bennett now clear in his father’s eyes.

“You’re not alone, P,” Bennett whispers, pressing another solid kiss to my temple, hand moving beneath the curtain of my hair to massage lightly at the base of my skull.

“You’ll come with me?” I ask, eyes finding Alessia’s.

She smiles and nods. “I always have you, Paloma. You know that.”

I step forward to her, letting her take my hand in hers. Bennett watches me vigilantly before clearing his throat. “I think maybe my dad should go, too—just . . . just in case. He’s a lawyer and—if it’s okay with you, it would make me feel better, knowing he’s there to look out for you.”

I nod—but if I expected Adam to deny his need to be there, I’m wrong. Instead, he’s locked in a long, intense look with his son.

“You have to take care of her,” Bennett says. A moment passes between them: identical blue eyes, matching hard lines of their body, intensity in equal measure.

“I will, Ben,” his father says. “I promise.”

They step just outside, giving me a moment alone with Bennett. My mouth opens repeatedly but I can’t manage the words to explain it all—to tell him everything.

“I’m sorry I didn’t—”

He cuts me off with a quick shake of his head. “No, P. Don’t do that.”

His hands are still tucked into his pockets, brow set deeply as he watches me carefully. Neither of us move—toward or away from each other.

“You promise you’ll stay here?” I hate how needy, how desperate my voice sounds, but I can’t stop it.

Bennett moves, the long length of his legs taking him directly in front of me. My eyes don’t move away from his sneakers. “You know you can trust me?” I nod. “You know I love you?” I nod again, swallowing against the knot in my throat, blinking away any tears threatening me. “Then let me take care of you, P. We can talk after.”