The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 376

Petty woke up just as they were flying back into the country, only to find herself pulled tight against Franco’s chest. At first she tried to wriggle away, but the booze still lingered in her system. Even mostly sober, her body just wanted to rest. Within minutes, she drifted off again.

Franco held her close and let his fingers slide gently through her hair, letting the loose bun unravel. He took off his own tie and wrapped it snugly around her wrist. For a moment, he just watched her, not bothering to hide what he felt.

All these years, and she was still the same. Whenever she couldn’t find a hairband, she’d grab his tie to put her hair up, just like she used to do.

The helicopter kept flying, the world slipping by beneath them. Cabinda was only two hours away.

Franco pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. In her sleep, Petty shifted, her cheek pressing against his chest, her lips moving just a little. “Don’t mess around…”

“Franco.”

He froze, her name leaving her lips, quiet but clear.

Franco frowned, tightening his arms, and kissed her again, this time on her hair, as if he could hold back everything she might remember.

“Petty, please don’t remember.”

The helicopter finally set down on Misty Vale’s landing pad. Franco didn’t wait for anyone; he simply scooped Petty into his arms and carried her off.

It was late, the whole estate wrapped in a heavy, peaceful silence. Inside the house, General, the big old dog, perked up at the sound of rotors. Disturbed from his sleep, he bounded outside, tail wagging when he saw Franco—and then, spotting the figure Franco carried, his eyes sparkled with hope and excitement.

He almost barked, ready to run straight to Petty, but Franco just glanced at him. That was all it took. The bark died in General’s throat, replaced by a barely audible whine.

General trailed after them, padding softly into the house. The main building, scorched and ruined the last time Petty saw it, had been fixed up. The two rooms upstairs had become one big suite, an almost identical replica of the room they’d once shared on the island.

Franco laid her on the king-sized bed, tucking her in carefully. Then he headed downstairs, where Jackson was already waiting, wide awake.

Franco looked at Jackson. “I’ll be gone for a while. If anything happens, call me.”

“Yes, Franco.”

Jackson watched the taillights vanish down the driveway, then looked back up toward the second floor. Moonlight poured through the cracks between the curtains, falling over Petty where she slept, a bit of color still clinging to her cheeks.

The double doors opened and General slipped in, standing guard at the edge of the bed before settling down with a content huff. Jackson walked over, pulling the blanket back over Petty’s shoulder, making sure she was warm, then moved to close the curtains tight. Once everything was set, he quietly stepped out.

After leaving Misty Vale, Franco drove straight to the hospital. The child was already asleep, blond hair mussed, face too pale on the screen. Franco watched him for a long moment.

“The little one slept all day. He finally woke up this evening and only took one hundred and fifty milliliters of milk. He hasn’t wanted anything else,” the doctor told him, standing quietly at his side.