Page 83 of Sworn to Protect

“No. Of course not.” I rake a hand through my hair. I should’ve told her sooner. I should’ve left. I should’ve?—

“I don’t care about your excuses. They’re meaningless. Was I nothing but a charity case for you?”

“No, damn it.” My voice cracks, frustration and regret tangling in my throat. I really fucked this up. This is why I hate lying, even by omission. Nothing ever good comes from lying. Nothing. “You were never a charity case. It may have started as a favor to Ethan, but that’s not how it ended. Believe me.”

Her chest rises and falls, rapid and unsteady. “Tell me one thing. What was in it for you?”

The truth chokes me.

You.It was always you.

But I can’t say that. Not now. Not like this.

“Oh, wait,” she snaps. “I think I know.”

Her expression hardens, closing me out. “Get out.”

“Mackenzie, I?—”

“Leave!”

A lump lodges in my throat. I glance past her, where the two boys stand frozen in the hallway. Their wide, fearful eyes cut straight through me.

I did this.

My chest hollows out. The weight of my mistake crashes down, suffocating. “I’ll leave.”

I step through her door but stop short. “I’m sorry, boys. I messed this up.”

“Will you be back?” The crack in Liam’s voice is like the final nail in my coffin.

What do I say? I don’t know anymore.

So I give him the only truth I have. “I hope so.”

“Boys, come here,” Mackenzie calls from her room. They keep their watchful eyes on me as they obey their mom. She gathers them into her arms. The three of them lock together in an unbreakable unit.

And I’m on the outside.

I swallow hard and nod and then walk out.

Back at my cabin, I grab Ethan’s letter with unsteady hands.

“Don’t worry if you fall in love with her. She’s easy to love.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Yeah, you dumb motherfucker. You knew exactly what you were doing.

The ache in my chest swells. I crack open a beer bottle and take a sip, but it’s bitter. Hollow. A poor substitute for what I’ve lost.

I should throw the letter in the fire. Should rip it up. Should do something.

Instead, I grip the letter so tightly my knuckles turn white.

There’s nothing better than drinking alone and moping.

Said no one ever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

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