“Yeah.” I box breathe, counting the slow pull of air into my lungs, then hold, then release in four beats each until my pulse settles.
“This incident tonight has brought the fight to another level,” Raina informs me. “Rhys needs to know how to protect you.”
“By going behind my back? No, thank you. I know what’s best for me,” I say in the strongest voice ever.
The silence stretches for a few blocks as the Tahoe navigates the empty city streets.
Raina doesn’t ask about my assault. My terrible confession. She lets it pass untouched and unsaid. She’s not pitying me and not prying. Somehow, that makes me feel less exposed. She’s giving me back a piece of myself. Something I thought I’d lost in that room full of men.
“Do you love him?” Raina asks, because perhaps that is something she can relate to. Being in love.
“I do,” I say, not looking at her. “He told me he loved me, too.”
“Fuck,” Raina says, shaking her head. “This is more serious than we thought.”
I keep staring out the window while Raina talks softly.
“Men screw up. Some menreallyscrew up. Others just stumble through the hard parts.” Raina is kind, in a lethalway. “Rhys does love you. That’s clear.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I’ll try to cool off and see if I want to give him a chance to explain.”
“I hope you do.” Raina squeezes my hand.
The sun is making its climb over the horizon when the Tahoe stops in front of my building.
“Rhyswillneed you after this,” Raina pleads one more time, her voice a strong warning like she cares about him. “You have the strength to be there for him. I’ve seen it.”
“Thank you,” I whisper around the lump in my throat and get out of the SUV.
Swiping my eyes, I watch as the Tahoe glides away, sunlight glinting off the shiny dark blue topcoat.
I stand there for a long moment, staring up at the brick façade of the place I’ve called home for years. I’ve never had a problem going inside, whether or not Rhys was home.
I can’t go inside. Not yet.
I tighten the belt on my coat, shove my hands deep in my pockets, and walk. Walk off the heartbreak. Walk off the betrayal. Walk off the voices in my head.
Walk until they are quiet enough, and I can hear the real world again.
Chapter 41
Rhys
The white glare of the lights in the X-ray room burns my skull, and my head won’t stop aching, if anyone fucking cares. And now my heart’s been ripped out of my chest watching Fallon run away in tears, hurt and angry from my betrayal.
I’m not restrained to this gurney, but I might as well be. Trace is planted at my right shoulder like a sentry, Connor on my left.
Griffin arrived with Shane an hour ago. And their eyes keep flicking toward me like I’m about to explode.
They’re not wrong.
Shane, who now has Jett working for him, is probably relaying the odd things I’ve done lately, like the Christmas tree I stole, and Connor is dishing about our interaction at the tattoo parlor. Griffin got his own eye full on Fallon’s caroling night. Only now do I see how I’ve been playing with fire. And thought I could get away with it. Now I’ve ended up scalded and burned.
Griffin has his brother Ewan on the phone, who advises him on all matters now. When the call ends, he holds the phone pressed against his thigh like he’s grounding himself. My cousin, the leader of our clan and the one who signs the death warrants, looks carved from steel: jaw tight, blue eyes narrowed, and every part of him braced for a family conflict he never saw coming.
“All right,” Griffin says, voice low but steady. “Enough back-and-forth. Rhys, tell me what is going on. From your mouth.”
He’s been left in the dark from the start. And lucky me, I have to undo how everyone has twisted my story. How they painted Fallon as a medicated wreck. Dangerous.
