Page 44 of Rescued By Midnight

“I can pick you up at eight.”

“No, I’ll meet you there at eight.” It’s close enough to walk to. I can only imagine how he’d flip out if he picked me up here and saw I’m staying with Landon and Cody. I don’t want that kind of drama today—talking to Brayden about our marriage will be hard enough.

His voice is tight. “See you then.”

I return to the kitchen to find the guys both sitting completely still. There’s food on their plates, but they aren’t eating.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I say.

“Did I fucking hear you say you’re meeting him tonight?” Cody asks.

Landon smacks him, but Cody ignores the hit.

“What are you thinking?” Cody presses.

“I’m thinking I’m married, and he’s my husband, and we have some things to work out.”

“It isn’t even a legal marriage,” Cody mutters.

The words hurt me more than they should. But he’s calling the validity of my marriage into question, and I can’t stand that. “We are married,” I insist. “I said the vows, the Church recognizes it, and it is real to us.”

Cody folds his arms across his chest, his jaw tight.

“We know.” Landon turns in his seat to face me more fully. “We’re just concerned about Brayden and his treatment of you.”

This is similar to what they said Before.

“So you’re meeting him at Woodstock’s?” Landon continues, and I’m grateful I don’t have to respond to what he said about Brayden’s treatment. “How about we come along?”

“No, no way.” I shake my head, freaked out at the idea of them sitting off to the side, gazes hard and watchful. “It’s dinner. I don’t need bodyguards. I promise. I’ll walk there, talk to Brayden, and walk back.”

“He’ll try to get you to go home with him,” Cody says.

“He won’t. I already told him I’m not ready.” I sit down and gather a forkful of french toast, determined to be casual. “It’s dinner, because he and I need to talk. Please relax, guys.”

They exchange a look, but I let it go. It’s only seven a.m. and this day is already too long.

17

CODY - NOW

This is so fucking stupid, I can’t stand it.

At a quarter to eight, Alice heads out of the apartment, looking as sweet as ever in a skirt and t-shirt, little sandals on her feet, and her hair pulled up in a messy bun.

It’s like watching a lamb skipping into a slaughterhouse.

“I’m going,” I tell Landon. “You stay here.”

He gives me a short nod. “I’ll be ready—call if you need me.”

Hopefully I won’t. Hopefully we’re being super paranoid assholes who are worried about nothing.

As I step into the elevator, nervously jangling my keys in my hand, he shakes his head. “You love her as much as you ever did.”

I flip him off as the elevator doors close between us.

ALICE - NOW