Confusion and anger boil up. “I did it all for you! Goddammit, why is it never enough?”
“I never said you weren’t enough,” she fires back. “That’s your insecurities and issues. Not me.” It isn’t a cheap shot, but it’s true. Lena reaches for her, but Alana jerks away, nearly knocking her over. “Don’t touch me!” Her voice slams into the walls. “I can’t be here.” She snatches her purse from the couch and the little gray cat.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” Lena pleads.
“I’ll go with you,” Lance offers.
At the top of the stairs, Alana turns back. “No. Your job is to protect Lena. That’s what I pay you for.” Her eyes settle on Lena. “When it comes to you people, I’m always alone.”
Lena crumples. Alana looks at Amanda. “I love the decor. Very nice.” She ignores CJ and Craig. Maybe she doesn’t have the words to cut them. She doesn’t look at me. “I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.”
Then she runs down the hall. The front door flashes open, light spills, and she’s gone. We remain. Broken. Bleeding. Left with the question—was the truth always worth knowing?
CHAPTER 28
Alana
Day 8
Terk Henderson. Are you kidding me? I’ve met evil incarnate that didn’t do as much damage to me and mine as Terk Henderson. He’s an infected hemorrhoid on the ass crack of humanity, somehow poisoning the blood.
I cry. Ugly cry. No dignity. No restraint.
I stay on the floor longer than I want to admit before the self-loathing kicks in. I hate that Terk Henderson is the cause of my lowest, most pathetic moment. He doesn’t deserve floor tears. So I crawl onto the couch, tuck my legs into my chest, and keep crying. I’m not even sure why I’m this devastated. It’s not like Grae left me because I wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t any of my insecurities. Still, I’m gutted. My literal organs ache with every sob.
The sound of wood splitting explodes through my apartment, followed by heavy footsteps. Four, armed men storm into my kitchen, guns raised and scanning.
“CLEAR!” One ducks behind the counter. “CLEAR.” Two more sweep through my bedroom, their voices echoing. “CLEAR.” A gun waves in my face.
“Who did this to you?” Wow. That trope hits differently when it’s your crime lord friends playing soldiers instead of a ten-thousand-year-old fae chasing a Sunshine Warrior. Stupid books ruin everything.
A black dog leaps onto the couch, his muzzle pressing to my cheek. Sniff. Slobber. “Alana, what happened?” Hadeon’s voice cracks with a panic I haven’t heard in years. He kneels in front of me. “Are you hurt?” I rub the tears from my cheeks. Dimitri and Joey stand in my living room, waiting.
“No.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Hadeon’s hand settles on my foot.
I glance around, and my eyes land on Thiago. His gaze burns as he speaks into his phone. “Are you in position?”
“Almost.” Uri’s voice crackles back. “No clear shot. Two other men in there.” Hadeon squeezes my foot gently, urging me.
“I know why Grae broke up with me.” The room freezes.
“Is she okay?” Uri asks.
“She’s crying,” Thiago growls.
“I’m taking the fucking shot.”
“He was trying to protect me,” I say quickly. “And Grae’s windows are bulletproof.”
“How do you know that?” Thiago lifts a brow.
“Bulletproof windows and steel doors are required for all clients.
“Why isn’t your door steel?” Dimitri points at my own door, hanging lopsided on its hinges. I sniff, a traitorous line of snot threatening escape.
“Because it’s original wood.”
