Page 56 of Forbidden Access

It was time.

Thorn found some boxes in the closet and began the task of packing away Jaden’s belongings. She started with the books, carefully placing each one into a box. Each title brought back a memory, and she allowed herself to linger on them for a moment before moving on. She packed away his drawings next, trying not to read the notes scribbled in the margins. It was too painful to think about the things he’d never get to finish.

Finally, she reached for the jacket. She hesitated, fingers brushing against the worn leather. Thorn closed her eyes, bringing the jacket to her nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was faint, but it was still there, a reminder of him.

With a deep breath, she folded the jacket and placed it gently on top of the other items in the box.

Next, she moved on to the bedroom and did the same thing there.

Finally, when she was done, she sealed the boxes with tape and stacked them neatly in the study. That room was empty now, stripped of everything that had made it Jaden’s.

Now, instead of feeling the crushing weight of loss, she felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted.

Packing away Jaden’s things didn’t mean she was forgetting him. She could never do that. But it was a step—a necessary step—toward healing, toward allowing herself to move forward. Toward allowing herself to live again, maybe even love again.

She was ready to let go, not of Jaden, but of the hold the past had on her. And as she left the study, closing the door behind her, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in years.

Back in the living room, Thorn paused, glancing out the window. Damian was still outside, working on the Yamaha. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he scrubbed the bike with more force than necessary, as if he could wash away the frustration he felt. She knew she owed him an apology, a real one this time.

But that could wait. For now, she needed a moment to herself, to absorb the enormity of what she’d just done. She sank back onto the couch, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past finally begin to lift.

Now, at least, she could concentrate on the future.

CHAPTER 24

Damian wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, the damp cloth he’d been using to clean the Yamaha now draped over his shoulder. The sun hung high in the sky, beating down on him with relentless intensity. At least his hangover had started to lift.

He drained the last of his bottle of water, admiring his handiwork.

The bike gleamed, its once-filthy chrome now catching the light in a way that was almost satisfying. He ought to be pleased with his accomplishment, but he couldn’t shake the unease that had been gnawing at him all morning.

That’s why he’d thrown himself into the task with a determination bordering on obsession, trying to scrub away the remnants of last night’s tension.

It hadn’t worked.

Coming here... The pain it had unleashed had erected a wall between them, and he was on the outside, unable to scale it.

Anger simmered deep in his gut, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had no right to be jealous of a ghost, yet that didn’t stop the sour taste in his mouth every time he thought of Jaden.

Fuck.

His hand tightened around the cloth. It wasn’t like him to get so worked up over something—or someone—he couldn’t control. But Thorn wasn’t just anyone. She had gotten under his skin, burrowed into a place he hadn’t thought was still vulnerable. And now, with that unspoken weight hanging between them, he wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings she stirred in him.

He glanced up when he heard the soft hiss of the patio door sliding open. Thorn stepped onto the porch, a tall glass of lemonade in each hand, the ice clinking softly as she made her way down the steps.

He tried not to notice the way the sunlight caught in her hair, turning it into a bronze halo around her face.

“Thirsty?” she asked, coming up to him.

“Yeah, thanks.” He took the glass and raised it to his lips. The lemonade was cold and tangy, the perfect antidote to the sweltering heat. Downing it in one go, he set the glass down on the ground.

She nodded to the motorcycle. “You’ve done a great job. It looks brand new.”

Damian shrugged. “Needed something to keep me busy.”

Thorn’s fingers tightened briefly around her glass, but the smile that followed was genuine, if a little bittersweet. “I suppose I’m to blame for that.”

“I don’t blame you for anything,” he said quietly. “It is what it is.”