I let out a cold, humorless laugh, tasting dried blood on my lips. "You can try. But you got your free shots, Jagger. Next time you lay a hand on me, I'll fight back, and this is your only warning."
He doesn't move, hatred coating his expression.
As big as my ego is, pain hits my heart. I soften my tone. "You've always been my brother. That hasn't changed in my eyes. So take the time you need to get used to this. I'm not disappearing. Willow's mine and I'm hers."
A tense silence settles between us for a few beats.
Then, in a softer but sharper-than-a-blade tone, he replies, "I loved you like a brother."
My throat tightens so much, I almost can't breathe. "I know. And I hope things will go back to normal between us down the road."
His jaw tics, and he grunts. "Don't count on it." He stalks past me and flings open the door.
The cold air rushes into the cottage, but it doesn't touch the hot anger or suffocating hurt.
Jagger slams the door, and I go to the window, my heart still pounding hard. He trudges through the snow, gets into his truck, and drives away.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, wishing things would have gone differently, but knowing it's an impossible desire.
I stare out the frost-covered glass for a long time. The war inside me continues, and I finally step away and mumble, "I gotta get off this ranch."
I pull out my phone and text Willow.
Me: I need to go to Jax's.
Willow: Why? You don't have to worry about my parents. They agreed that you can stay in the Butterfly House.
I smile.
Me: Are they really okay with me staying on the ranch?
Willow: Yes.
A touch of relief hits me.
Me: That's good, because I meant, I need to go to Jax's to work out. I didn't mean as in to move there.
Willow: You're still injured.
Me: I need to go, sugar, but I'll be fine.
Willow: You need to rest.
Me: You know how I handle things.
She doesn't respond.
Me: Can I see you when I'm back?
Dots bounce on the screen for several seconds. Then they disappear.
I wait, feeling like my heart's going to explode.
Willow: I might be washing my hair.
I chuckle.
Me: You have no idea how much I missed that response.
