I know the answer even before Cole tells me. Because his face goes white, his features suddenly taut with strain—an expression I’ve seen before, when he was in agonizing pain. His dark eyes search mine, like he’s looking for something to say, but there’s only a yes or a no.

The sour lump of betrayal lodged in my chest suddenly moves up into my throat. “You did,” I whisper brokenly.

As if my devastated reply shatters the fear holding him silent, abruptly he shakes his head. “I agreed to,” he says in a raw voice. “But I never intended to really do it. And I never followed through. I swear it, Mia—”

He reaches for me but I back away, afraid that if he touches me the brittle control I have over myself will simply splinter apart. His face goes bleak, his dark eyes suddenly empty.

His hand drops to his side, and he swallows hard, says thickly, “I swear it, angel.”

I believe him. Or maybe I want to believe him. Because my father also said— “But you reported that Jason visited me?”

“I didn’t. I never said a damn thing. I don’t know how he knew.” He rakes a shaking hand through his hair. “Maybe the chief told him that just to give him something. Because that’s all this ever was, Mia. He went to Chief Jackson, and it was easier and smarter to let him think we were doing him a favor than to tell him to fuck off. Though that’s exactly what I wanted to do.”

I know my father. I know Chief Jackson. That sounds like both of them. And Cole… a ‘fuck off’ sounds just like him, too.

When I don’t answer, despair carves austere lines into his face and he hoarsely starts again, “I swear, angel. He came to us with that bullshit, and we pretended to play along. The chief can corroborate—”

“I know,” I interrupt him in a strained whisper, my entire body stiff, my arms wrapped around my stomach. “I know how my father is. And I know you wouldn’t do it.”

Relief passes over his face but he doesn’t try to reach for me. Instead he stares at me, his chest heaving. My posture must tell him that despite my belief, I’m still on the edge of breaking.

Utter desolation flattens his voice. “But I still made you feel like shit.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.” And that’s why I’m on the verge of breaking. Cole doesn’t deserve any of this. Yet because of me... “He’ll try to ruin you.”

“He’ll try, but he won’t.” Conviction rings through that reply. “I told the chief a month ago that I was with you. He’ll have my back.”

“You think my father will stop at Chief Jackson if he doesn’t get his way? That’s just where he’ll start.”

Jaw set, Cole shakes his head. “He can’t touch me.”

“You really think that’s true?”

He knows it isn’t. Because he doesn’t try to keep telling me it is. Instead he says, “I’ll weather it.”

Tears burn my eyes. He’ll weather it. A hurricane created by my father, simply because I refused to fall in line. A hurricane that will threaten everything Cole has fought for his entire life.

“Angel.” It’s soft, despite the gravel in his voice. Slowly he approaches me, as if I’m a wounded animal he fears will flee. And he’s not all wrong. “When Bennet showed up that day, told me he had a daughter he wanted me to watch, I thought to myself that girl could never be worth the trouble that having her would bring down on me. But you are, Mia. You’re worth all the trouble in the world.”

“I don’t want to be trouble.” I can barely speak past the constriction in my throat. “And I know how hard you’ve worked to get where you are. I can’t bear the thought of him taking it from you.”

“Maybe he won’t.” Gently his warm palms cup my face. “He might find that the chief and everyone in City Hall aren’t so willing to kiss his ass if he tries to burn mine. But even if they did, I’d fight back. Do I seem like the type to give up?”

“No.” I know he’s not. He’ll go down fighting. But it’s the thought of him going down at all that is killing me. My breath hitches, and the swelling burn of emotion in my chest rises up, clogging my throat. “But it’s because of me. I can’t bear that he’s hurting you because of me.”

“I don’t care,” Cole says fiercely. “I’ll take anything for you.”

“But I care. Because you shouldn’t have to take anything! Not for me. Not because of him.” And I’m so close to breaking down and crying hysterically. Right in front of him, and he’d not only have to worry about his own future but worry about me, too. Frantically I shake my head, pulling away from the comfort of his hands. “I can’t do this right now. I need to think.”

“About what?” His expression hardens as his gaze sweeps my face. “Are you going to give up? Run back to your mansion and make a deal to save me?”

“I don’t know!” I don’t want to. But I would. I would. “I hadn’t even thought of it yet!”

Lips drawn back over clenched teeth, he orders savagely, “Don’t you fucking dare save me like that, Mia.”

My tears spill over. “Then give me time to think!”

“Alone?” he challenges, and before I can draw a breath, all of the savagery leaves his expression and he says bleakly, “All right, angel. I’ll give you the space you need. Just tell me you’re not giving up on us.”

“I’m…not…giving up.” Chest hitching painfully, I try to hold it together. Just a second longer. “I’m not.”

“I’ll take that.” Though he sounds as if my reply offers only the barest thread of hope. “And I’ll hold you to it. Because I intend to make it as hard for you to let me go as I can, Mia. And maybe one of these days, your first instinct when you’re scared and hurting won’t be to slam the door in my face.”

Is that what he thinks I’m doing? Shattered by the thought, I suck in a ragged breath. “I’m not. I’m just—”

“Isolating yourself so you can’t be hurt or hurt anyone else. But I’m not dead, angel. And nothing hurts more than being shut out.” His voice is gruff but his hands are gentle when he draws me close and presses a warm kiss to my tearstained cheek before turning toward the door. “But I understand it’s what you need to do. So I’m here if you need me. And I’m here if you don’t.”

Cole’s generosity and kindness in the face of his own pain utterly destroys me. The moment the door latches shut behind him, I crumple to the floor, tears streaming down my face, wracked by sobs so deep it feels as if they’re tearing me apart. All I wanted was a future that was different from everything I’d known. That possibility always lay ahead of me, the knowledge that if I just waited a little longer, I’d be free. But I didn’t wait. Instead Lowery’s bullet snapped all those chains. I broke away, tried to leave them behind—and because of that, now Cole’s future is being threatened, too. And those chains are closing around me again. In a few years, I’ll be free…but by then it might all be too late.

Because I want to break patterns, but my parents never will. And even if I went back home tonight on the condition that they let Cole alone, they’d still try to destroy him. Because they’d know I would eventually go back to him. And because hurting him will hurt me.

And I’ll never let my parents hurt him.

Never.

That resolution echoes through me as my sobs slowly subside. Spent, I lay on the floor, feeling completely hollow, as if everything inside me has been scraped out.

Now I have to choose what to put back in.

I know what I want. It’s all around me right now. Twinkling lights, the scent of pine, tinsel. Not Christmas—that will be over soon enough—but everything I felt while Cole and I put all of these decorations up. I will have a future that isn’t dictated by my parents. It will be different from what I’ve known. I’ll break that pattern.

But I have to break a few more. Because I’ve pushed back quietly against my parents for years now, but it’s always been by simply ignoring them. By not obeying them. Or by doing what I did when I moved into this apartment—ran away from them, avoiding any confrontation. Telling myself that there was no rush. That I would finally break those chains soon enough.

And in some parts of my life, there is no rush. Not in my career. And with Cole…I want everything with him, but some parts of that will come quickly and some we’ll have to let grow.

But one thing that absolutely can’t wait? Confronting this threat my father has made.

There might be a solution to it. It would require me to break another pattern—my resolution to never be like my parents. To never take advantage of my name. To never use it like a weapon. Maybe it’s time, though. Because I’ve been waiting so long for armor to form around my heart, but it’s never been thick enough to protect me—and it won’t protect Cole. So maybe it’s time to stop hiding behind a flimsy shield and start swinging a sword.

Less like a guardian angel. More like an avenging one.

But first, there’s a different pattern that needs breaking. The one I didn’t even realize was there.

Despite all of the resolutions that give me direction and purpose, I still feel hollow as I silently make my way across the hall—and utterly wrung out. My eyes are swollen from crying, my nose won’t stop dripping, but I don’t care if I’m a horrible mess. And Cole looks as wrecked as I feel. When he opens the door, his eyes are haunted, his face drawn and pale, as if he’d spent this time suffering through hell—and his angel had abandoned him.

Never again. I can’t promise heaven. But I won’t ever put him through this again.

“I need you to hold me tonight,” I tell him hoarsely.

He doesn’t hesitate, sweeping me up to cradle me against his chest before carrying me inside. Instantly everything within me fills up, so full, all of the hollow places disappearing as my entire future slides into place. With a shuddering sigh, I bury my face in the strong warmth of his neck. “I’m not giving up. But I don’t know if I can give much else until tomorrow.”

In a thick voice, he says, “I don’t need anything else, Mia.”

Maybe not. But I’ll still give him everything I can.