I don’t realize what I’ve said until Grant’s hand freezes on my shoulder. “What did you just say?”
Shit.
Six years of careful lies, of dodging questions back at the hotel, of letting them believe Jared’s claim over Eli to buy myself some breathing room…all of that gone in one heartbroken sentence.
I bury my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking as another sob wracks my body.
A hand settles on my back, warm and steady as it rubs gentle circles there. I feel someone else squat next to me, a palm cupping my thigh in a tender squeeze.
Their presence is a balm on my anxiety even as guilt gnaws at me from the bomb I just dropped.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Dean says quietly. “But…you’re going to have to tell us everything, Noelle. Later, though. When you can breathe again. Okay?”
I suck in a quiet breath and nod. “I will. I promise.”
18
GRANT
It’s just past noon by the time we manage to make a dent in the mess.
My shirt’s clinging to my back with sweat, my hands nicked from picking through shards and splintered wood to find items that aren’t completely destroyed, but I don’t care.
I just need something todo.Something to channel this storm brewing inside my chest before it eats me alive.
Callum’s sweeping debris into piles by the door.
There’s fury in every stroke of that broom, focused anger that’s worse than shouting.
His jaw is locked tight, eyes trained on the floor as each scrape of bristles against wood rings with restrained violence.
Dean’s back near the register counter, cataloging the damage on his phone for the insurance company.
The set of his shoulders is stiff, his usual easy grin nowhere to be found.
He mutters under his breath every so often, each word clipped short like if he doesn’t keep talking to himself, he’ll explode.
I’m across the other side of the store, my knuckles white around the edge of a fallen display case as I force it upright.
The old wood groans under the pressure, protesting with a low creak before settling back into place.
A few of the ornaments still clinging to the shelves tremble loose and hit the ground with a sharp crack, scattering glittering fragments across the floor.
I sigh at the iridescent dust that clings to my skin.
Noelle’s already gone home.
We convinced her to rest after she broke down, when the shaking finally overtook the tears.
She hadn’t wanted to go, kept insisting she needed to stay and help, to fix what she could, but Callum and I practically had to steer her out the door.
Watching her like that, her shoulders slumped, eyes swollen from crying, voice breaking when she tried to thank us, felt like being gutted alive.
Because no matter how much I wanted to tell myself this wasn’t our fault, I knew better.
All of this had been a direct result of Callum and me showing up at his work. And now he’s retaliating.
There’s no doubt in my mind that this is his doing. Jared’s too much of a coward to face her head-on, too manipulative to let his obsession with her and Eli die quietly.
