Travis inhales sharply, his scent growing smoky.
“That’s enough,” he says, his voice low.
But Annette ignores him.
“And I forgive you, Blair. I forgive you for what you did.”
She might as well have shot me in the chest.
The pain ricochets through my body, and my knees threaten to give out.
Travis pulls me to him and wraps an arm around my waist as a low warning growl sounds from his throat.
“So, that’s where you get it from,” he says to me softly.
My tongue is heavy in my mouth. I can’t talk.
Annette just stands there, feigning goodness as her words cut me to my core.
“The only person that needs to be forgiven is you,” Travis spits, and Annette pushes her sunglasses up her head to look at him with rage.
“Me?” she scoffs. “Me?” Her grey eyes are full of fury, and the mask she normally wears has slipped.
“You,” he snarls. “For being so fucking heartless that you would make her believe that she’s responsible for your son’s death.”
I still can’t talk, but I stand a little straighter. Travis grips me tighter, and I inhale his smokiness, letting his aroma soothe my inner Omega.
Safe. I’m safe with him.
I’m understood.
I’m seen.
“She isgood,” he continues. “A better person than you will ever be. Your son was lucky to have her in his life.”
My heartbeat slows, and I raise my chin to glare at Annette.
Take that, you bitch.
But Annette simply smirks like the villain she is. “I can’t believe you would say that to a grieving mother,” she huffs.
“I’m not saying it to a grieving mother. I’m saying it to a piece of shit that’s under the impression she’s a good person,” Travis continues. “All I see is a bitter, ugly old woman.”
Annette’s expression falls. “I’m not ugly,” she hisses.
“Inside and out,” I confirm, finally finding my voice. Her gaze turns to me, still furious, but I keep eye contact with her. “Annette, I miss Justin, too. I miss them all. But what happened that night—that was no one’s fault but the weather. It…it wasn’t mine,” I stammer. “It wasn’t my fault.”
It wasn’t mine.
Annette doesn’t believe me, though.
I can see it in her face.
She’s always going to blame me, and I can’t change that.
“Well, I forgive you, anyway,” she huffs.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I whisper. “BecauseI did nothing wrong.”
