CHAPTER TWENTY
Griffin
To say my nerves were shattered was an understatement.
It was one o’clock in the morning as I walked Quentin and Amelia to the door of the club.
“We can stay the night if you want,” Amelia offered. “Be there for her in the morning.”
I shook my head. "Go home and get some sleep. You can call in tomorrow after you've rested."
“It’s been the longest day of my life,” she muttered before she pressed a kiss to my cheek.
I'd argue that it had been longer for me, but I was too exhausted.
Quentin clapped me on the shoulder.
"Thanks for your help today," I said.
“You never have to thank me for this.”
I nodded and said goodnight.
When I turned around Xavier was there. “Christ, man, you should be home. Get some sleep.”
“I fear I might find that difficult this evening, sir. I just wanted to make sure you and Mrs. Mandeville have everything you need.”
Grateful to him for his support during the worst fucking day of my life I patted him on the shoulder as I passed. “We do. Go home. Rest. You’ve earned it.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned before I stepped onto the elevator. “Oh and, Xavier.”
“Yes, sir?”
“From now on in private, if it doesn’t make you too uncomfortable, maybe you should just call us Griffin and Scarlett.”
His lips twitched. “Perhaps, sir.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“A difficult habit to break.”
I grinned wearily. “Goodnight, Xavier.”
“Goodnight, Griffin.” He wrinkled his nose.
“Yes, it is weird,” I agreed with the unspoken comment, just before the lift door closed.
Slumping back against the lift I willed it to move faster. Leaving Scarlett in our bedroom had been almost as hard as the rest of the day had been. It hadn't taken much time for Dean to analyze the license plate, but it led to a different address from the one we'd found her at.
Dean had hacked into traffic cameras quicker than the police could and followed the vehicle. We used the last street we spotted it at it as a guide while Dean scoured Pete's files until we found the house in Mattapan he'd purchased a year ago as a renovation project. Quentin's friend, the superintendent, had questions about where we found this information, so I lied to protect Dean and said I remembered the purchase.
Every second that ticked by was torture knowing Pete had Scarlett and having no idea what he planned to do to her.
The relief when she ran out of the house was incredible. The fury seeing the blood dripping down the side of her face was uncontrollable.
I wanted to kill Pete.
Instead, I didn't even get to confront him. I'd burst into the apartment with the police trying to pull me back, and Pete had taken one look at us and put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.
It was fucking horrifying.
Still, worse than that, was sitting by my wife in the police station while she told the investigating detectives what Pete had said and what he’d been planning to do. The chance she’d taken slamming the butt of the gun into his nose. It could have gone so badly.
The thought made me want to throw up.
I shuddered as I strode wearily out of the lift toward our bedroom.
She was here.
She was alive.
That was what mattered.
But I vowed as I pushed into our room and saw her lying in bed, eyes open, waiting for me, that I’d never let anything like that happen again.
"You're never to take the car out of the garage again," I bit out as I walked around the room, shedding my clothes. "Xavier or one of the guards will bring it to the front of the building, so we have an eye on you at all times."
“Griff,” she whispered.
“I’m doubling security at the club until O’Connor’s sentencing too.”
“Griff.”
"And when you're out, and I'm not there, I want a man on you. No fucking arguments."
“Griff.”
I yanked on my pajama bottoms. “We need to get you a gun and train you.”
“Griff.”
I pulled up the covers to slide in beside. “Maybe some basic defensive training too.”
My wife rolled into me, and I dragged her tight against me, glaring at the cut on her temple where he'd smacked her so hard he'd knocked her off the fucking chair she'd been tied to.
“Griff, I’m here,” she whispered, pressing a soothing hand to my chest. “I’m okay. You can stop snapping and snarling.”
Emotion welled up in my throat, and I couldn't speak. My wife seemed to understand.
“I know.” Scarlett kissed my jaw. “I was terrified too when you ran into that house. But we’re okay.”
I clasped her face, feeling myself lose it even though I’d been trying so fucking hard not to. “You almost died today,” I choked out.
Tears slipped down her beautiful face. “But I didn’t. You saved me.”
"You saved yourself." And there it was. I couldn't protect her. I couldn't even bloody save her.
"You. Saved. Me." Scarlett pressed a sweet kiss to my mouth. "Knowing you needed me to fight. It gave me what I needed. Being loved by you made me strong enough to fight."
Fuck, I didn’t deserve her.
I buried my face in her neck and shuddered against her as the emotion became too much. We held onto one another like that, never easing our ferocious grip, until the only thing that could relax our embrace was the pull of exhaustion.