Page 41 of Fastlander Fealty

And she sat there, tears streaming down her cheeks as they hesitated. Her arms were wrapped around her middle like it would keep all her pieces together.

When they left, and when she heard the click of the front door shutting, only then did she start packing her things.

With shaking hands, she shoved everything into her suitcase, strode for the bathroom and gathered her toiletries she’d so carefully lined up on the counter into a plastic grocery bag, and then she threw that into the suitcase too and closed it, zipped it, and dragged it to the door.

She left the remaining food in the kitchen. On the counter, she left the half-full bottle of red wine she’d opened last night, when her life had been happy for a moment, talking to Owen.

This was how it was supposed to be—messy always, because she was born to be a mess.

“Thank you for letting me live,” she said to the remaining Fastlanders as she carried her suitcase down the stairs and into the yard.

“You don’t have your car here,” Corey pointed out quietly.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You can’t walk all the way to the float ramp to get your car,” Corey said.

“Let her go,” Hallie said low.

In her back pocket, Silver’s phone vibrated with a text. It would be Rook, and it would make her angrier, and it would make the tears return, so she ignored it.

Down the driveway, someone was following her, and Silver tossed a pissed-off glare over her shoulder. Corey was trailing her.

“Go away, Corey,” she said.

“You can’t walk the whole way. I can call someone to give you a ride.”

“I don’t want anything from anyone here. I don’t need anyone.”

“Who cut your face?” she called.

“It’s no one’s fucking business.”

“Who cut it?” Corey asked from closer. “Who made that traitor mark on you?”

Silver shook her head and bit her lip again as the stupid burning sensation returned to her eyes.

“Who, Silver?” Corey asked from much too close. “Who cut you?”

“My man,” she yelled, turning around.

“Lie.” Corey stopped, leaving a couple yards of space between them.

“Rook. Rook cut me in front of everyone!” She dragged air into collapsing lungs. “Rook had a right to. I betrayed him, I left, I couldn’t stand being there. Couldn’t stand being his. I was weak! I did the unthinkable! I left the Pride, as a Queen, left the Pride in turmoil with a King who was so enraged he lost control of his lion and fought his own people! Everyone knows that is all my fault. I caused him to lose control. I caused the fighting. I earned this traitor mark! Are you happy?”

Corey parted her lips to say something, then closed them again and hung her head, shook it.

“That makes two of us,” Silver said. “Can you tell him I’m sorry?”

“Owen?” Corey asked.

“Yes.”

“You lied.”

“We’ve established that.”

“Not about your reasons for being here,” Corey told her. She looked up, and her eyes were that bright, glowing green. “You said your man cut you, and it was a lie, but when you said Rook cut you, it was the truth. Rook. Isn’t. Your. Man.”

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