Nick glares at me. “Don’t do this right now, Ethan. I know what I’m doing. I can handle my own family.”
“It doesn’t look like you can.”
“I’m not going to quit on my marriage just because we’rehaving a rough time. You don’t walk away the minute it gets hard.”
I sigh. “I’m not saying walk away. I’m saying be honest with yourself. Whatever this is, Nick, it’s not a marriage. She’s breaking you.”
He looks away, silent.
I let it go. Now isn’t the time. Not with Roland fighting to recover and Natalie barely holding it together.
“I’m not trying to come at you,” I say after a moment. “I just... I hate seeing you like this. That’s all.”
Nick nods once, but the tension doesn’t leave his face. “I’ll talk to her. When the timing’s better.”
Fair enough.
“I’ll go take a look at Roland. You should take Natalie home. She needs to rest.”
I nod at him and make my way over to Natalie, who is talking to Sarah. I note Alex’s protective stance as he hovers over the latter, and I hide my smile.
I wrap an arm around Natalie’s shoulder. “Let’s go home. It’s been a long night.”
The drive home is quiet.Natalie leans against the window, her eyes fluttering shut now and then, the adrenaline finally wearing off. I keep one hand on the wheel, the other resting over hers. Her fingers are cold. My grip tightens.
By the time we step into the apartment, she's half-asleep on her feet. I lead her to the bedroom without a word. She doesn't protest, just moves like she's floating underwater. Shock, exhaustion—both settling into her bones.
Sitting her on the edge of the bed, I kneel to take off her shoes. She watches me with heavy eyes as I help her out of herwool coat and sweater, leaving her in just her soft cotton camisole.
"You don't have to?—"
"I know," I say quietly. "Let me."
She doesn't argue.
Once she’s lying under the covers, I dim the lights, turning on the air conditioner. Her lashes flicker, and I brush the hair from her face.
“I’m right here,” I whisper.
She gives a faint nod and closes her eyes.
I wait until her breathing evens out before I move.
In the living room, the silence is oppressive. I head to the bar and pick up a bottle of scotch. Choosing a glass from the kitchen cabinet, I pour myself a drink, trying to compose myself. That car… The way it veered… It wasn’t random. It was precision. Intent. The kind of intent that wants to destroy. That kind of malice doesn’t just go away.
I should’ve seen it. Should’ve noticed we were being followed. Should’ve had someone watching her from the moment I realized she was a target.
This is on me.
I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles go white.
She could’ve died.
The thought slices through me like a knife, vicious and cruel. Natalie—my brilliant, stubborn, messy, beautiful Natalie—nearly got torn from this world in a flash of twisted metal and screeching tires. And I would’ve been left with nothing but her blood on my hands and the sound of her scream echoing in my skull.
I shut my eyes, breathing through the rising burn in my chest.
Whoever is behind this… they made a mistake. A big one.
