As small as I was, it was easy for me to dip under his arm and squeeze between their bodies. Lifting my hands, I cupped each side of Ryan’s face. “Ryan, please let him go. Please. You’re going to kill him. Please stop. For me. Please, for me, let him go.”

The touch of my fingers on his skin made him jerk, his hands tightening around Garret’s throat, but his gaze dropped to mine.

“Tears?” he choked out, his hold slowly slackening before he dropped Garret and pushed him away. Hands free, he brushed them over my hair before pulling my face to his chest. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of my head, his body shaking as he inhaled deeply then laid his cheek where his lips had touched. I could hear his heart thundering in his chest, knew that he was trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’m sorry, my heart.”

Garret was coughing and trying to gulp in air from where he’d fallen to his knees behind me. Mentally, I begged him to go, to run, to not be there when Ryan regained full control of himself. And for once, the dumbass was smart enough to realize that I was trying to save him. I heard him moving and then his feet pounding on the stairs as he ran up to his room. Moments later, his door slammed shut, and I nearly sobbed in relief. But I quickly stopped myself before the noise could leave my throat.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan whispered again, remorse thick in his voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I would never hurt you.”

“I know,” I mumbled against his chest, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. “I’m not scared of you.”

It was the truth. There was nothing Ryan could say or do that would make me scared of him. Scared for others? Yes, definitely. But never for myself.

Ryan was more than just my best friend. He was the other half of my soul. It had been that way since I was three and he was eight. The moment I set eyes on him, something had shifted. I could still remember how funny my chest had felt. I was too young to understand it then, but I did now. It was as if something had tied itself around my heart, connecting me to him in a way that should have scared me.

But what really scared me was losing that connection.

With each year that he grew older, it felt as if I still stayed a little girl. I was already surprised he hadn’t pulled away from me, found someone else to be his best friend. But even more so, I was surprised he hadn’t found a girlfriend. Ryan was the most beautiful boy I’d ever set eyes on, and that was saying a hell of a lot. Girls and women twice his age stopped and took notice of him when he entered a room.