Page 100 of The Long Way Home
“Hey! Back the fuck up!” Another voice slices through the air behind him.
Rhett’s voice. The sound cuts clean and cold, like steel through bone. Ben pulls his hips from mine, but his hand doesn’t drop from my wrist. His head snaps around, scanning for the source of the threat before he can react.
Relief crashes through me, causing a sharp and overwhelming feeling to course through my body. My knees threaten to buckle, my body trembling from the sudden release. I’m barely holding myself upright.
“I said. Let. Go. Of. Her.”
Every step Rhett takes toward me drains the adrenaline from my veins, leaving a cold, shaking emptiness in its wake. He moves deliberately, like a predator sizing up its target, and the air seems to shrink around him. His shoulders are squared and his jaw tight. His attention is fully locked on Ben. His fists remain loose, controlled, but the power coiled there makes him almost more terrifying than Ben ever could be.
Ben shifts. “We’re just talking, man. Relax.”
“You don’ttouchher.” Rhett’s voice is calm, but his eyes are anything but.
Ben scoffs. He tries to smirk, tries to act like he’s not the one about to get laid out. “You don’t even know what’s happening—”
“I don’t need to know.” Rhett closes the distance with one final step, standing almost chest-to-chest with him now. He brings one hand to me, lightly pushing me behind him, keeping me tucked safe. “What I know is you had your hands on her, and she asked you to get off her. So for once in your stupid fucking life, listen to her. And back. The fuck. Off.” He pokes Ben’s chest with each final word.
Ben hesitates, eyes flicking between us. He shifts, teetering, like he might try to fight, but he is unsteady. Rhett notices the restless flex of his hands. Rhett’s fists tighten in response.
“Move,” Rhett spits out. “This is your last warning. If I have to repeat myself, it won’t be with my words.”
Ben steps back reluctantly, hands half-raised. His palms open in a show of surrender. He is unmasked now, frail and unstable beneath his anger.
Rhett gives me a glance over his shoulder, making sure I’m still standing before turning back towards Ben.
“She’s the one who started this,” Ben mutters, trying to shift blame. His last ditch effort to make himself look innocent.
“You pinned her against her fucking car,” Rhett snaps. “You so much as breathe on her again, and I swear to God—”
Ben glances at me, as if I might defend him. I don’t. I won’t. I keep my eyes on Rhett, gripping the car behind me because it’s the only thing keeping me steady.
“Whatever,” Ben mutters. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later. Rachel is worthless.”
Rhett moves. And everything happens so fast, I barely process it. I watch his arm wind back, his fist snap forward, and heconnects with Ben’s jaw. Right before Ben is about to fall to the ground, Rhett grabs him by the shirt and holds him up.
“You don’t get to say her name,” Rhett growls, each word slow and venomous. “Do you understand me? You don’t ever get to ever breathe in her direction again.”
Ben starts to open his bloody mouth, but Rhett cuts him off.
“Say one more fucking thing,” Rhett cuts in, lethally low. “Call her worthless again.” He pauses. “Touch her again. Evenlookat her the wrong way—” the words push out as he grits his teeth.
His voice turns to stone. “—and I’ll make sure tonight is the last time you get to put your hands on anyone.”
Ben stares for a second longer, and then Rhett releases him. He turns on his heel and stumbles off, his steps uneven. Rhett watches until he disappears into the dark. Then he turns to look at me. And just like that, all that brutal force drains from his face. The rage fades. The tension leaves his shoulders. His eyes meet mine, and every sharp edge softens.
“Are you okay?” Rhett asks, his voice urgent. His gaze doesn’t leave my body. He is taking me in. Memorizing every inch of me, he is making sure I’m intact. I watch as his eyes trace every line of my body.
I want to answer. I try. But the words vanish before they reach my mouth.
Tears press behind my eyes, but I can’t let them fall. I stand frozen, every nerve still alive with the echo of fear. My heart races, but my body feels distant, disconnected, like I’m watching myself from somewhere else. I can’t fully believe it’s over. I can’t process that I’m okay.
“Rach.” His voice softens and trembles slightly, but the urgency doesn’t leave it. He steps closer, closing the distance between us. “Rachel, please. Just talk to me.”
His eyes bounce between mine, pleading with me to answer.
I still can’t speak. My hands tremble, my back throbs where the car pressed against me, but it’s not the pain keeping me still—it’s the shock, the weight of everything that nearly happened.
“Sunny,” he whispers again, more frantic this time. “Are you okay?” He lifts his hands to my face as he cups my jaw. “Baby, please. Say something. You gotta say something. I need to know you’re okay.”
