"I'm sorry," he said, sincerely regretting the loss of his temper.
"Bree, I'm sorry, I'm just so worried about you," Charlie called out as she headed to the front door.
She turned around and looked at the man, who was close to weeping. She felt bad for him. He must care about her a lot, and she had no clue who he was.
"I know, Charlie, but I need to get out of here," she said, then walked from the room with Chad's arm around her. Her father followed her out the door, but her brothers gave her space.
"Whether you get your memory back or not, my dear, you'll soon discover our family is passionate. Emotions always run high, but if someone we love is in danger, they shoot through the roof. Just know we love you and you can count on us for anything," George said, giving her a hug goodbye.
"I know, Dad. Being here isn't doing me any good, though. I'd rather just get out of here, let everyone cool off. I promise I'll call you later tonight, okay?" she said, hoping he'd understand.
"Okay. I'll feel better if you do," he answered.
"I will, I promise."
George let them walk away and Bree felt instantly calmer the moment she sat down in Chad's familiar truck. She didn't want to go back to the ranch, but she may have hyperventilated if she'd stayed in that place for one moment longer.
"How about we go to a movie?" Chad asked. She could kiss him, she was so happy with his suggestion. A calm movie was just what the doctor ordered.
"That sounds wonderful, but only if it's a romantic comedy," Bree replied. Chad groaned but navigated the truck toward the Cinemark complex. They studied the selections, and Bree nearly jumped up and down when she spotted, The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks.
Chad groaned but he reluctantly purchased the tickets and took her to see the movie. He enjoyed watching it through her eyes. She cried, laughed, and snuggled in close to him. It was a nice break from the stress that seemed to always consume their lives.
"Thanks again, Chad. That was just what I needed," Bree said as they walked to his truck.
"There's nothing I won't do for you," he told her, realizing he meant the words. She could ask for the moon, and he'd do his best to get it for her. She looked in his eyes and something shifted.
Bree didn't know which of them moved first, but suddenly she was melting in his arms as his mouth gently caressed her lips. The moment stretched, filling her with a sense of rightness and love. He could be passionate and aggressive, or gentle and loving. He seemed to know what she needed exactly when she needed it.
His cell phone rang and Chad seriously considered throwing it against the building across the street. He didn't care who was calling, he wasn't getting interrupted again.
"Woo hoo, ride that cowboy," someone called out, and Chad groaned against her mouth. It looked like he couldn't catch a break.
He reluctantly pulled away, nearly changing his mind when he saw Bree's flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Her eyes slowly opened, full of confusion – probably wondering why he stopped. He was going to take her to a deserted island – no phones, no teenagers and no stalkers.
His phone went off again and he pulled the annoying device from his pocket. Bree just buried her head against his shoulder, seemingly as frustrated as him.
"What?" he snapped into his phone. After a pause, he spoke again.
"Is it necessary? She's been through a lot the last couple days."
"Fine," he answered, then hung up.
"The police have someone in custody. They think we should come in," Chad told her. Bree's eyes widened, but he was impressed by how quickly she squared her shoulders and pulled herself together.
"Then we'd better get down there," she said without hesitation.
"I can deal with it on my own," Chad offered.
"No. I want answers. I want this to be over," she answered and he heard the steel in her voice.
Chapter Fourteen
Bree's stomach turned as they stepped inside the huge double doors into the sheriff's station. She glanced at the reception area with people calling out orders, and chaos reigning. Somewhere among the throng of individuals was someone who could be responsible for disrupting her life, shooting her in the head, and endlessly pursuing her.
She squeezed Chad's hand tightly in her own. She was unaware of Chad scoping the room, looking for possible exits, noticing anyone looking suspicious. She would feel more reassured if she could see how aware he was of everyone and everything around him.
This could be the end of the chase. She could possibly start focusing on her life and getting her problems worked out, without having to look over her shoulder every five minutes. If the person after her was caught, then she could focus on her child, and if she were relaxed, then maybe she'd get her memory back.