Avery approached from the side. “You good?”
I nodded once, stiffly. “Fine. Just ready to go.”
She didn’t press, just shot a glare at Luke’s retreating form before sliding into the driver’s seat. I followed, hands trembling as I opened the passenger door. Her friends climbed into the back, thankfully too caught up in their own chatter to notice my world had just come undone.
As Avery pulled away, I couldn’t stop myself from looking—one last glance out the window. He didn’t turn. Didn’t try to stop me. It was over. Truly over, before anything real had even begun.
Fuck him. I took a page from his playbook—and didn’t look back either.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LUKE
The parking lot had thinned out. Mila and Avery tore out of there after what I’d said. The guys took one look at me and didn’t ask why I was leaving.
Once I got behind the steering wheel, I took off, leaving everything behind me.
My jaw was tight, stomach burning. I needed to smash my fist into something. A bag. A wall. The dashboard. The look on Mila’s face haunted me—shocked, shattered—after I shut her out when all she’d done was be honest. Because that was what had happened there. Even if her information was tainted, a lie, she was innocent. She’d tried to bring it to my attention—to protect me.
Drew’s words from earlier circled back, digging under my skin.“…whatever’s happening with Mila? Don’t let it blur the lines.”I’d told him she wouldn’t. I believed it. But right now, those lines were smudged and fading.
She never hid what she wanted most—made no secret of her dreams, or how badly she believed in things most people gave up on. Me included. And I could always tell when she was holding back or hiding something. This wasn’t one of those times.
But when it came to her reality, the hard parts with her mom, with moving? She stayed locked up. And I let her. Back then, I didn’t push. Figured if she wanted to talk, she would. She didn’t. Not about the ugly things she’d experienced.
And tonight, she’d finally tried. I’d held the rules tighter than any affection, because the mandate was clear:Stay away.
She’d tried to open up to me—and I drowned it with cold logic and distance. Shut her out, as though she hadn’t just handed me the kind of truth most people hoard. And now she was gone. She’d been sitting next to Avery, eyes fixed on the road, as if none of it touched her. But I knew better. She didn’t fall apart. She pulled back. And for a moment, what gutted me wasn’t that I’d pushed her away and she’d let me. It was how much I wanted her, and the thought that she might not look back. That she might never let me in again.
I pushed away the ache and drove home the only way I knew—fast. Brakes kissed skid marks into the driveway when I arrived home. I killed the engine, sat there for half a second, then shut the door hard enough to echo.
The front windows glowed, shadows moving behind the glass—Mom, probably on a call. Dad, probably still at the office. Drew, maybe upstairs. I didn’t care to find out. I slipped through the side entrance, bypassed the kitchen, and took the back hall straight down to the gym.
There was too much noise in my head. I yanked the door to the fully stocked workout room wide, kicked it shut behind me, stripped off my shirt, and then grabbed the heaviest dumbbells I had. I dropped them onto the mat, as if punishing steel could take what I couldn’t say. Then I started lifting—fast, hard, punishing. Swing. Press. Slam. Rep. Again. Sweat burned down my spine, muscles shrieking with every move.
I needed it to hurt. Needed something to crack. If I couldn’t rip her out of my head, maybe I could outrun the guilt grinding behind my ribs.
That was when Drew slipped in. I caught his reflection first, a flicker in the mirror. It took everything in me to corral my emotions before giving him my attention. He didn’t speak. Just leaned against the squat rack—arms crossed, a crooked curve to his lips—one of the things that reminded me we were brothers. We had the same crooked grin, the same eyes. But not much else lined up. I had three inches on him, the athlete’s frame. He was stockier. Bulldog.
“What’s going on?” He waved a hand to encompass all of me. “Looks like you’re working through a problem. Did Logan start something?”
I dropped the dumbbells, hitting the water bottle, which sloshed across the mat. “No. I found something else out. Not sure if it’s true, considering the source.”
“The source?” Drew moved closer, voice quiet, danger shadowing his frame.
I hesitated. The need to protect Mila was undeniable. “Doesn’t matter, what does is the information.” I told him what she’d relayed to me about Dunn—the shell companies, the stocks, and the real estate.
Fury crackled through Drew’s eyes before it solidified into determination. “It fits. I’ll bring this to Dad’s attention.” He gripped my shoulder before releasing it. “This is good. That’s what a future partner does—keeps the company protected. With this, we won’t be in reaction mode. We don’t wait. We go preemptive and offensive now. That gives us leverage. And when I share this with Dad—he’ll see. You did good.”
My brother meant well. He was trying to give me credit. Make me look strong. Strategic. Loyal. But none of thatmattered. Not when the only thing I could see was Mila’s face when I shut her down.
I left the weight room without a word, my steps heavy. I avoided the main hall, slipping out the side door, as if I had something to hide—because I did.
The sky had gone dark, the kind of black that hummed with questions you didn’t want to answer. I got into my SUV and sat there for a beat, gripping the wheel until my knuckles turned white. Then I drove with no plan or direction—just momentum and regret. Because she’d offered me something real—and I’d crushed it before I even realized what I was holding.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MILA
