Declan and Tara wait outside, making sure nobody decides to come back, while I go up to grab Nora’s stuff. I would know her bedroom even without her scent guiding me along the way. It’s the smallest, practically the size of my bedroom closet, and the condition of the furniture makes me sorry those assholes are already gone. I would love to dislocate Derik’s other shoulder for him.
They have really treated her like she’s nothing. The bedding is worn, the furniture cheap and falling apart. A few old crates turned sideways serve as bookshelves, which I empty into a box I find under the bed. Her drawers are filled with old, faded clothes that probably came from a thrift store—or somebody’s garbage. And I used to make fun of her for always dressing thisway. There is so much I need to make up for, I don’t know where to start.
This is all I can do. Gathering her things to take them home with me so she can feel like she has part of herself with her. It’s a small gesture, but I have to start somewhere. Because there is so much to make up for.
Chapter 7
Nora
I still can’t getmy head around this.
It’s weird enough being in Cole’s bed, wrapped in his shirt and a blanket that carries his scent in every fiber. That alone is something I would never in a million years have imagined. I never thought I would step foot in this house, much less make myself comfortable in the bed of my bully.
That’s not the worst part.
The worst part is how good it feels. How right. I can’t remember feeling this content and safe and comfortable since before Mom died. Every breath I take pulls a little more of Cole into my lungs, and it’s nice. It calms me.
It does something else, too, strangely enough. It makes me yearn. When is he coming back? I want him here. I need his presence. Like there’s something deep inside that’s been waiting for this, sleeping quietly until the moment something woke it up. It’s awake now, and it wants him.
But don’t I get a say in this? That’s what I can’t understand, no matter how I try. He made it his life mission for years to insult me, mock me, paint a target on my back so everyone else in school knew I wasn’t worth treating with respect, much less kindness. Every day, he found a new way to make me feel small and worthless. And I’m supposed to forget all of that now, just because of the bond we share? It’s enough to make me want to scream.
But then I raise the blanket to my nose and inhale deeply, and all of that turmoil fades away like it never existed.
I’m trying to figure out if he expects me to stay here forever when footsteps pound up the stairs. It’s kind of amazing how deep certain reactions can run. I’ve spent so many years living in fear that the sound of approaching footsteps makes my body seize, and my heart threatens to burst out of my chest. Only for a second or two, though. Once I sense Cole’s presence, yet another surprising, unthinkable turn of events: feeling glad and happy he’s near.
He’s not only near. He’s carrying a box.
“Here you go.” He sets it on the floor next to the bed—from where I’m sitting, I can see inside.
“My things?” Reaching down, I lift the box onto my lap. It’s not very heavy—there isn’t much in there. Clothes, library books, a framed photo of me and Mom from my tenth birthday. Probably my most treasured possession.
“I can always go back and get the rest, though there isn’t that much left.” He sinks into the chair he left earlier, and now I look at him.
Which means I notice for the first time the blood on his shirt. And on his swollenknuckles.
“What did you do?” I whisper.
“Don’t worry about it.” He flexes his fists, staring down at them, wearing a satisfied smirk. “They got what was coming to them. I only wish I could’ve done worse.”
“What did you do? Please, tell me.”
His broad shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. “You don’t have to see them ever again. Declan banished them. They’re out of the pack permanently and forbidden to step foot on our lands again.”
I guess it’s the surprise that kind of shuts my brain down for a minute. The words don’t compute. Like he lapsed into another language. “What did you say?”
“Never again.” Leaning in, elbows on his knees, he stares into my eyes and looks straight into my soul. “They’re gone. They’re out of your life.”
How many times have I wished for this? Nothing but dreams and fantasies. Nothing detailed. Just a general sense of how much better life would be if I never had to see them again.
That’s now a reality.
And I wish I could be completely happy about it.
Instead, the part of me that has lived in survival mode all these years immediately starts running down the logistics of the situation. It’s kind of a habit I have no control over. Just like the way I reacted when I heard approaching footsteps. Every situation that comes my way, I immediately look at what it means.
And this particular situation means I have nowhere to go but here. With Cole and his family. I can’t help but wonder if my situation didn’t just get a whole lot worse instead of better.
“I feel what you’re going through,” he murmurs. “The conflict. I wish there was some way I could fix it. But since there’s no way to turn back time, all I can do is apologize.”
