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About any of them.

The last morsel of love and remorse I held in my heart for Jordan Porter shriveled and died in my chest that night. And whatever compassion I still felt for him, faded with every passing day.

As for her?

Ihatedthis woman with the fire of a thousand suns.

She was what Teagan would call aC U Next Tuesday.

Personally, I thought that word was too kind of a description for her.

That gut feeling I always had about her – the one that told me she was a manipulative shrew – was one hundred percent on the money.

I felt stupid as hell for not seeing her for what she was from the get-go.

Watching her influence Jordan on a daily basis was disgusting.

The woman was toxic for him.

Coddling him and rushing to comfort him when what he needed was some cold, tough love.

I saw that now.

Problem was, I no longer felt the desire to care or intervene.

My feelings were void.

I was completely blank towards them.

My heart was back in Boulder, attached firmly to a man who was refusing to answer my calls.

For the past few weeks, every phone call, text message, and voicemail had gone unanswered, and it waskillingme.

The concern I had for Hunter was so severe it drove me to the point of physical sickness. I had barfed on more than one occasion. I was going out of my mind with worry and need and pain and loneliness.

Being without him wascripplingme.

The thought of the extensive prison sentence Hunter would serve if Jordan went to the police was theonlyreason I was still inside this house. I was completely committed to keeping him out of the state penitentiary.

The way in which I had to do it was crushing me, but I would suffer on.

To keep them both safe – the man I was in love with, and the boy I once cherished.

But I was so fucking disgusted with myself for staying.

For continuing to lie.

For not standing up and telling Hunter everything.

But most of all, I hated myself for stillcaringabout Jordan. The way he had treated me these past two weeks was borderline abusive and I was fairly certain there were dogs on the street shown more respect than I had been shown.

I should have hated Jordan, and a huge part of me did, but I could never wholeheartedly hate him. Not when the memories of our life together still flashed behind those green eyes.

That was what tortured me the most.

Being weak.

I was trapped in this house.

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