This waseverything.
CHAPTER 40
TATUM
PRESENT
The next morning, Griffin drove me back to my condo. The ride was quiet, a comfortable silence settling between us as the city blurred past the windows. We’d been up late celebrating his win until the early hours of the morning, the first half of the night spent with his team, the other half spent with him showing me just how good it could be when he wasn’t taking thingsslow.
My body still hummed from the way he had touched me, claimed me, whispered my name like a prayer against my skin. Every ache, every lingering sensation was a reminder of the way he had undone me, over and over again, until I was nothing but his.
Griffin’s hand rested on my thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles, as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had drifted. When I glanced over at him, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, his gray eyes dark with something that sent a shiver down my spine.
“If you keep looking at me like that, baby girl, we won’t makeit back to your condo anytime soon,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and promise.
Heat pooled low in my stomach, but before I could respond, the car slowed, and reality came crashing back in.
My fingers tangled in my lap, nerves twisting my stomach as we pulled up to the familiar building.
Except it didn’t feel familiar anymore. It felt completely and utterly tainted.
Griffin placed a reassuring hand on my thigh before getting out and coming around to open my door. We slowly made our way up the stairs, each step creaking with our weight. Uncertainty swirled in the humid air, clinging to us.
There was yellow caution tape across the front door of my apartment. It caused me to stop in my tracks. Griffin laced our fingers together, grounding me as he inserted a key into the lock and pushed the door open, and we slowly made our way inside. The second we stepped into my apartment, the destruction hit me like a punch to the gut.
The living room was trashed, cushions thrown across the floor, picture frames shattered, drawers left open and emptied. The groceries I had bought were still left discarded in the middle of the kitchen floor. The scent of stale fear and chaos still clung to the air. My legs locked up, my breath stalling as my eyes darted around the space, searching for anything untouched, anything that still felt like home.
But there was nothing.
Griffin’s hand tightened around mine. “Tate, baby. I’m here. You’re safe now.”
I shook my head, stepping forward on shaky legs. The worst of it was still ahead.My bedroom.
Pushing the door open, my stomach twisted. The jewelry box on my nightstand was overturned, its contents scattered.Then my gaze landed on the small, framed picture on the floor, the glass cracked right through the middle.
It was of me and my mom.
I glanced at the spot where I’d been held against my will, a knife to my throat.
A sob tore from my throat, and before I could stop myself, I collapsed to my knees. My body shook as grief and exhaustion consumed me, the trauma of the past few days breaking free in messy, gasping sobs.
Griffin was there instantly, dropping down beside me. He gathered me in his arms, pressing me against his chest as he rocked us gently. “I’ve got you, baby girl. Let it out.”
I fisted his shirt, clinging to him as my tears soaked through the fabric. “It’s all ruined,” I choked out. “Everything…it’s like he took every bit of safety I had left.”
“He didn’t take anything, Tate,” Griffin murmured, his lips pressing to my temple. “You still have you. And you still have me.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, his words settling something inside me.
After a while, when my sobs had quieted into sniffles, he pulled back just enough to look at me. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s start packing up your things and figure out what to do next.”
I wiped at my cheeks, nodding. “I can’t stay here ever again. Not after this.”
“I know,” he said softly, brushing my hair behind my ear. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Sniffing, I reached for my phone and dialed Millie. She picked up on the first ring. “Tate? Are you okay?”
“Can you come over to my place?” My voice wobbled. “I…I need help.”
