Chapter 296: She's Safe

David’s POV

I stepped forward, planting my feet like I was bracing for a punch I couldn’t dodge. My heart was still jackhammering, every worst-case scenario flashing behind my eyes…Holly hurt, Holly gone because I’d been too slow, too scared, too wrapped up in old ghosts.

Tyler trailed right behind me, close enough that I could feel him peering over my shoulder. “Dude, is everything alright? You look like you’re about to tackle whoever’s on that bike.”

I didn't respond. All I wanted was to see Holly safe.

The motorcycle rolled to a stop beside my cat in the driveway, engine growling low before cutting off. The headlights died, leaving just the orange glow on the two riders. The passenger swung a leg over first…slim build, familiar posture…and my knees almost buckled with relief.

Holly.

I didn’t wait. I closed the distance in three long strides, yanked her off the bike before she could even reach for the helmet strap, and crushed her against me in a bear hug that probably squeezed the air out of her lungs. My arms locked around her like if I let go she’d vanish.

“I thought I lost you,” I muttered into her jacket, voice cracking worse than I wanted. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She went stiff in my grip, hands hovering like she didn’t know where to land. Behind me, boots hit pavement…Justin dismounting on the rider’s side, parking the bike and reaching to help with her helmet. I turned us fast, shielding her, so his hand brushed my shoulder instead.

Holly squirmed. “David…can’t…breathe—”

Tyler cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, dude? You’re kinda hurting her. Let her go.”

I loosened my hold instantly, stepping back, hands up like I’d been caught stealing. “Sorry. Shit, I didn’t mean to—”

She tugged the helmet off herself, brown hair tumbling out in a messy wave, and handed it to Justin without looking at him. Her face was flushed from the ride, cheeks pink, but no bruises, no blood, no wide-eyed terror. Just furrowed brows and total confusion as she stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

Justin cleared his throat loud, that same cocky tilt to his chin he’d always had. “So, your company on fire or something? Norman’s been blowing up my phone nonstop, and now you show up looking like the world’s ending. What’s wrong, big bro?” he taunted.

I ignored him completely. Couldn’t even spare him a glance. I reached for Holly’s hands instead, wrapping them in my big, rough hands, still trembling a little…and searched her eyes. “Are you alright? Really alright? Did anything happen?”

She blinked, looking so exhausted that I began to feel guilty. “I feel like I should be asking you that, David. What are you even doing here?”

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging hard at the roots. “I kept calling. You weren’t picking up. Over and over. I thought—” I stopped, throat tight. “I thought something happened.”

Holly’s eyes widened, then she face-palmed so hard it echoed. “Oh my God. You hurt Justin pretty badly earlier…deep enough I was worried about the wound getting infected. Kayla ran out of decent first-aid stuff, so I took him to the ER for stitches and antibiotics. Must’ve left my phone in the house," she suddenly paused, like she remembered something important. “Why am I even explaining myself to someone like you?”

The relief hit me so hard my knees almost gave out. I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for hours. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Justin snorted, arms crossed, that arrogant smirk firmly in place. “That why you look like your house is burning down? And is that alcohol I smell on your breath? Been drinking, brother? What’d you think happened…thought I’d hurt her? Kill her or something?”

Holly whipped around and smacked his arm…hard. “Quit joking, Justin. That’s not funny.”

She turned to Tyler, an apologetic smile already in place. “Sorry for dragging you into whatever this is.”

Tyler shrugged, glancing at me with new understanding. “No worries. Mr Hunt here was seriously freaked out earlier. He thought the worst, I guess.”

Just then, a woman’s voice called from Tyler’s open front door…soft, curious. “Ty? Everything okay out there?”

He waved back. “Yeah, just a little friendly drama. Be right in.”

Then he turned back to Holly. “Call if you need anything, alright?” She nodded, and he disappeared inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Now it was just the three of us under the streetlight.

My phone buzzed…Norman. I answered, rubbing my temple. “Update…they’re back. Justin needed the hospital for some stupid little injury that apparently got infected.”

I said it flat, sarcastic, and hung up before he could ask questions.

Holly rolled her eyes at me. “Didn’t I tell you not to come here? Go home.”

Justin opened his mouth, probably muttering  something sharp, something meant to dig under my skin…but I didn’t bite. Didn’t even look at him.

All I could think about was getting Holly out of here, driving her to my place, running a hot bath, making her something warm to eat, holding her until she fell asleep against my chest.

When the hell did I start feeling like this? This…soft, protective, desperate-to-take-care-of-her thing? It was impossible. I don't do stuff like this. Ever.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thought down. “Holly. I’m sick.”

She moved instantly…no hesitation…concern written all over her face as she stepped close, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead, then comparing it to her own. Then she hissed through her teeth.

“You’re fine. Go home, shower, sleep it off. Whatever bug you think you’ve got, it’s just an adrenaline crash.”

“No.” I caught her wrist gently, and held her gaze. “I want to take you home. My home. Let me explain everything…really explain. And if, when I’m done, you’re still not convinced… I’ll let you go. I swear.”

Justin scoffed loud. “Don’t fall for it, Holly. Classic manipulation. You should know him better after the last stunt he tried to pull.”

I  totally ignored him and grabbed Holly's hsvd. “Hey, look at me.” I stepped closer, voice dropping. “Really look at me.”

She did.

I saw it happen…the shift in her eyes, the walls coming down brick by brick. Something in my face, my tone…it cracked her resolve.

Without breaking eye contact with me, she said quietly, “Justin… go. I’ll talk to you later.”

He started protesting immediately. “You’re seriously gonna listen to his crap? After everything—”

“Go.”

He glared…at her, at me, at the whole damn night…then yanked his helmet back on, swung onto the bike, and roared off down the street, taillight disappearing around the corner.

Silence settled, just crickets and distant traffic.

I’m still not sure how to confront him about the murders. Not without proof. What if he's innocent?

But I’ve already texted my PI…sent every information on Justin and the places my men spotted him at over the period of the murder happened to him.

If even one thread points back to Justin, I’ll do what I should’ve done that summer years ago in Manhattan.

Report him. Let the authorities handle it.

For now, though…my priority is Holly.

I reached for her hand again. “Come with me?”

She looked up at me, eyes softer now, and nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”