Her Sweetest Mistake (Amelia) novel Chapter 92

Best friend Dad

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Travis nodded, then clapped his hands loudly, drawing attention to himself. “Alright, boys, how about a round of drinks? My friend here has money to blow.”

Cheers erupted, and the men got distracted. George seized the opportunity, moving with precise steps. The key- holder was chuckling at something, oblivious to George’s presence until it was too late.

A quick elbow to the throat made the man gag, and before he could react, George struck the side of his head with a swift punch, knocking him unconscious. He caught the keys as they jingled loose and tucked them into his pocket before anyone noticed.

The moment he turned, one of the guards frowned. “Hey, what are you-

But George was already moving. With a sharp twist, he grabbed the nearest chair and swung it at the man’s ribs, sending him sprawling. Chaos erupted as others jumped to their feet, reaching for weapons.

Travis pulled out a hidden knife and lunged at a man with a gun, slicing across his arm before slamming his knee into the guy’s stomach. George ducked under a swing, countering with a brutal punch to the assailant’s nose. Blood splattered, and the man crumpled.

Gunfire erupted, but George moved fast, grabbing a fallen pistol and returning fire, hitting one of the men in the leg. Travis threw a bottle, shattering it against another’s head. The remaining men hesitated for a second, giving George and Travis the upper hand.

One by one, they took them down. Giving them bruised knuckles, cracked ribs, broken noses. Until finally, the last man standing took a trembling step back before sprinting out the door. Silence followed, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing.

“You good?” Travis asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

George nodded, already running towards the back. He fumbled with the keys, his heart pounding as he unlocked the door. It creaked open, revealing Cheryl curled up on the cold floor, her wrists bound, eyes wide with fear.

“Cheryl!” He rushed to her side, untying the ropes. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

He held her tightly, vowing that no one would ever lay a hand on her again. But they weren’t safe yet. Not until they were out of there.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice firm.

George carried Cheryl into his car, his arms tightening protectively around her trembling form. Then, he drove her. home but as soon as the engine turned off and they were alone, Cheryl let the dam break. Silent at first, then wracking sobs that shook her body, raw and uncontrollable.

George reached out, desperate to comfort her, but before he could touch her, a sharp sting spread across his cheek. The force of her slap echoed in the tight space of the car. His head jerked to the side, but the pain in his chest burned far worse than the one on his face.

“You knew,” she whispered, her voice trembling, eyes glossy with betrayal. “You knew all along, and you never told me.”

George exhaled slowly, his gut twisting. “Cheryl, please—

“Don’t!” she snapped, her breathing ragged. “I trusted you. George. More than anyone! And you let me walk right into danger like I was some kind of a stupid puppet!”

She curled in on herself, rubbing her arms as if trying to shield herself from the memory of what had happened. The bald–headed man with the serpent tattoo, the way his hands had hovered over her skin, his voice filled with

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malice as he told her the truth. How her father’s debt had placed her in their hands, how she had been nothing more than collateral. And if George had been the one to save her, that meant he had known everything from the

start.

“I never intended to keep anything from you,” George murmured. “I only tried to save you.”

She laughed bitterly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “Save me? By lying to me? By letting me be taken?” Her voice cracked. “You let me be vulnerable with you, George. I gave you all of me. And you-” She shook her head, unable to finish the sentence.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Then, without another word, Cheryl yanked open the car door and stormed out.

George followed after her, his heart pounding as he watched her march into the house. He could feel her pain like a wound torn open between them, and it crushed him. By the time he caught up, she was already throwing clothes into a bag, her movements frantic.

“Cheryl, please, just listen to me,” he begged, stepping into the bedroom. “Don’t do this.”

She didn’t look at him. “I’d rather be with my parents than with a man who toyed with my intelligence.”

His breath hitched. “I swear to you, I didn’t—”

“I don’t care!” she shouted, spinning to face him. “I can’t be here, George. Not with you. Not after this.” Before she could take another step, he grabbed her waist and pulled her tightly against him. His hold was firm, her soft frame burning through his skin. “Cheryl, if something had happened to you… if they had hurt you in any way, I would’ve never forgiven myself. Do you understand? I would have torn this whole damn world apart to find you.”

She struggled against him, but he only held her closer. “Let me go, George.”

“No,” he breathed. “Because you’re my world, Cheryl. And if you walk out that door, you’re taking every good thing left in me with you. You think I don’t know I screwed up? That I don’t regret not keeping you safe? I would have told you if I knew. But right now, I’m afraid. Afraid that you’d run. And now…” He held her face in both hands, looking deep into her green glassy eyes. “Now I feel like my life will end if you leave.”

Cheryl’s lips parted, her expression momentarily torn, but then she swallowed hard, steeling herself. “It’s too late, Mr. Carter.”

She pried herself free from his grip and walked out, leaving him standing there, shattered and alone.

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