Page 153 of Forgiving Fate

Landon’s eyes find mine, and he runs over and picks me up. His hands move over my body, his eyes going wide as he sees blood on my shirt, hands, and face.

“It’s not my blood,” I say, my voice shaking, but he doesn’t hear me. I grab his face and make him look at me. “It’s not mine.”

His shoulders deflate, and he crushes me to his chest. We stand there for a moment, locked in each other’s embrace, until the shaking and panic start to subside.

“I thought—”

“I know. I’m here.”

“You better start talking mother fucker before I kill your ass right here, right now for even thinking about taking someone away from me,” Noah yells, somewhere behind us, breaking us out of our own little bubble.

When we turn around, we see Harrison slumped against the bar, looking seconds from death.

Grayson sits with Logan’s foot in his lap, holding an ice pack on top of it. While Lainey and Leo are on both sides of Noah trying to hold him back from kicking Harrison in the face.

Landon jumps from around me and I know he is about to deck Harrison in the face, either killing him or knocking him out before we can get answers, but I stop him.

“Storm. Don’t.”

I watch his shoulders rise and his face turns a slight hint of red, and I know he is pissed because so I am too.

“Lan. Can you please go get me a washcloth so I can wipe this blood off me? I feel disgusting,” I plead, trying to distract him.

Harper walks out from the bathroom and hands me a wet cloth. “Here Al. I figured you wouldn’t want that asshole’s blood on you for long.”

“Thanks Harper.”

Taking the washcloth, I hand it to Landon and he takes it wordlessly. Slowly he works his way over my face, neck and hands, ridding all the blood of my so-called best friend from my body.

Once he’s done, he pulls a chair close to Logan, sits down, and brings me to sit in his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist and his chin resting on my shoulder.

I know he is pissed, so am I.

Letting the anger fuel me, I turn my focus to Harrison, who looks like he is seconds from passing out. “What did you do, Harrison, and why are you involved with Mike?”

“I don’t have to tell you shit. You already killed him and are going to kill me, so why does it matter?” Harrison spits.

Anger rises inside of me and I stand. I am tired of men thinking that they can just do and say whatever they hell they want, even when they are looking death straight in the face.

“I can sit here all day until you tell me the truth. You’re already paralyzed from the neck down so you wouldn’t feel me breaking anything else, but I have a few men that would have fun making you watch as they break every single bone in your pathetic body.”

“Do it. I don’t care.” Harrison says and I look at Noah, who is fighting every urge in his body not to run over and punch him square in the face.

“No—” I am about to give him the go ahead when the doors to the bar fly open and my heart stops.

I blink a few times because surely this is some twisted dream, but when I open my eyes, the dream is still playing and I collapse to the floor.

Landon is by my side instantly, and I hear the sounds of cries and gasps in the background somewhere.

“Bluebird, open your eyes.”

“No. Please don’t make me.”

“Allie. I promise you are safe, but please open your eyes.”

Slowly, they open and right in front of me, sitting in a wheelchair, is my mother. Wes, standing right behind her.

“Hi honey. I missed you.” Reaching out, her hand touches mine and sobs overtake me as I realize this isn’t a dream, it’s real life.

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