Caleb’s brow furrows. “Jane?—”
“No,” she repeats calmly. Too calmly. “It’s fine. You’re right. I’m a mess. I always have been.”
Weston steps forward. “That’s not what he meant.”
“It’s what he said,” Jane replies.
She turns toward the hallway as if heading to her room, then stops. She looks back at them, eyes bright but steady. “I didn’t do this to punish you. I did it because I needed to know who I was when you weren’t holding the leash.”
Boone’s face pales. “We never?—”
Jane lifts a hand, stalling him. “You don’t even realize you do it. Just like I don’t realize I’m creating a mess until it’s too late.”
Her gaze flicks to me for a split second, small and devastated.
Then she grabs her coat from the hook by the door and shoves her feet into her boots without sitting down. She moves fast, like if she stops, she’ll crack.
Caleb steps forward. “Jane. Come on. Let’s go home.”
Jane’s laugh is hollow. “Home?”
Weston’s voice softens again. “Please.”
Jane shakes her head. “I can’t breathe right now.”
Then she turns, yanks open the door, and steps out into the cold.
I instinctively move to follow her. “Jane?—”
She storms down the porch steps and heads toward the field behind the cabin—the same stretch of snow where I caught her when she fell. The same place where our first kiss detonated.
I glance back to see her brothers behind me on the porch.
Caleb looks like he’s been punched.
Weston looks like he wants to chase her.
Boone looks like he wants to tear the world apart.
I stop at the base of the steps and turn to face them because they don’t get to follow her into that field as if they own her pain.
Caleb’s voice is strained. “We’re not here to fight you.”
“I don’t care," I reply flatly.
Boone bristles. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
I hold his gaze without blinking. “The man she chose.”
Chapter 18
Tex
Boone steps forward.
Caleb intercepts him. “Boone?—”
Boone pushes Caleb’s hand away. “She didn’t choose him. She was?—”
