Why?
I texted Noah before I settled in last night, telling him that they should go home. That I didn’t want to see them and that I wasn’t going to leave Ty’s side.
I don’t want them here. I don’t want them anywhere near Ty.
As much as I want to protect the boy lying beside me, I also need to avoid any and all temptation. Because if they’re just down the hall, I could step out of this room and be enveloped in Noah’s arms in seconds. I could confront Mercer and force him to answer for the shit he pulled.
I can’t allow myself to see them. It’ll just make this harder.
The ache that settled in my chest late last night grows more painful.
“They’re out there now? You’re sure?”
Ty emits a low grunt, his hand trailing from my hip to back. He drags his knuckles along my spine, then repeats the motion in the opposite direction.
Defensiveness flares to life inside me, every instinct telling me he’s going to turn up the possessiveness at the mention of the two other men.
Instead, he grunts, “Breathe,” as he keeps up his ministrations. The softness of the command surprises me, but it’s also exactly what I needed.
I press out a ragged exhale.
Chin lifted, Atty zeroes in on me again. “They were out there ten minutes ago. They look like they’ve been here all night.”
Tears cloud my vision. Emotion clogs my throat. I don’t want to see them. I can’t. I don’t want an explanation or to give anyone the opportunity to defend their actions.
It may be selfish. It may be immature.
But I don’t want to have to face the fallout of this toxic mess I’ve made.
I’ve done enough damage.
I’ve caused enough pain.
Once I’ve ensured Ty’s okay, I’ll remove myself completely.
I give my head a firm shake. “Can you go out there and tell them to leave? Please?”
He glares at me, a disbelieving scoff escaping him.
“Fine,” he eventually concedes, standing. “But tell yourhusbandhe and I need to have words as soon as he’s awake and can sit up.”
Chapter nine
Noah
“So… this is awkward.”
I snap back to reality, neck cracking and back throbbing as I look up at the person now looming over us.
He’s young, his dark copper hair and stormy green eyes familiar in a way that makes my heart ache.
Instinctively, I shift forward in my seat.
“How is he?” is the first question out of my mouth. “And how’s Sawyer?”
Beside me, Mercer groans at the mention of her name, but I know without looking that my best friend won’t even glance up.
He hasn’t spoken all night, no matter how hard I’ve tried.
