Page 70 of Twisted Redemption

Perfect.

This is exactly what I wanted—to give her a little break from the crushing weight on her shoulders. There’s so much going on. Alex’s bail still pending, everything going on with David and Tristan, and me being anything other than the comforter she’s always needed me to be.

“Blaze,” she whispers, her hand on the car door. When she turns to me, there’s a trace of her usual spark in her eyes.

I smile. What better way to distract her than to let her slip into a night of happy nostalgia?

We get out of the car, and she grabs my hand, pulling me down to the beach.

I have a lot of bittersweet memories here. After my mom left, my sleeping issues got worse, and I’d find myself here more nights than not. At some point, Brooke caught on and started following me. I spent a lot of nights sobbing with her tiny arms wrapped tightly around me.

But that’s not why I brought her here. This is our spot, regardless of how it became that. And besides, there are plenty of happier memories here, too. Ones of Brooke trying to cheer me up with terrible jokes. Ones of my sobs finally dying down and me holding her while she trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms.

“Remember when we tried to count all the stars that one night?” She stops when our feet hit the sand. When she looks up, I don’t. I watch her, soaking in her blissful smile.

It makes my heart ache.

“I’m pretty sure we stopped before we even hit one hundred.”

She hums in agreement. “I kept forgetting which ones I’d already counted.”

Her hand slides into mine while she’s still looking up at the sky. My pulse goes wild as her thumb rubs the back of my hand.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted her more than right now.

Tugging her along, I say, “I want to get to our rock.”

She follows me, the wind blowing her hair into her face. When she laughs, letting go of my hand to shove her brown strands away, the sound almost brings me to my knees.

I can’t remember the last time I heard her laugh.

It only takes us a few minutes to get to the rock. It’s not as big as I remember, barely enough for both of us to sit on. But it’s where I always gravitated to, and she always climbed up to be with me.

Now, I pick her up, relishing in her delighted squeals when I set her on the edge. Then I hop up next to her, my legs dangling off the edge. Her head rests against my shoulder, and I tug her into my side. Despite my warnings, she only threw a sweater over one of her pretty sundresses. She’s going to get cold.

Things aren’t back to normal between us. I have a lot to work through, and we both have to learn how to trust each other again. I know I’ll get there, and I hold onto the hope that Brooke will, too. But I can’t help but worry that it’ll be too much for her.

How can you ever love someone who wanted to hurt you?

And yet, not even an hour ago, I woke up with her body pressed to mine because she wanted to be close to me.

Because she missed me.

Fuck. I’ve made such a mess of things.

But, as we sit side by side in silence, I hope that I can give her at least one night of happiness. I just want her to let go, even if it’s only for a few hours. I’ll never be able to take back the months of hurt I caused. But I can give her as much happiness as she wants. For the rest of our lives, if she’ll let me.

“Blaze,” she says quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want you to be my chaos.” She sits up, turning slightly to look up at me. “I don’t want to be at home in the chaos. I want you to be my peace.”

“I want that too, Daisy,” I murmur.

One of her hands settles on my chest. She fists the fabric of my shirt. “I’m so sorry, Blaze. I know I fucked up, and I—”

“No. Don’t. You’ve apologized enough.”