Page 68 of Worlds Collide

My anger—and the tirade I was about to start since I have no one to witness it—gets interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

I’m not proud of how fast I lunge at it when the thought that it might be Wolf calling flits through my brain, but it is what it is.

And it isn’t Wolf calling me, but Hawk.

“Oh, my God, is he okay?” I demand.

“What thefuckdid you do to him? My brother is alone with you for a week and he relapses? Seriously?” Hawk screams over the phone.

“Wha—” I don’t even get the full word out before he’s screaming at me again. I get lost in my head while he screeches. Honestly, whatever he tells me can’t hurt more than what Wolf said to me last night.

It’s amazing, though, I’ve never heard Hawk angry. He sounds just like Wolf, in that he’s growling a lot, only more high-pitched.

“You stay the fuck away from him, you understand? Do. You. Understand?” The pointed question brings me back to the present. The one where I can’t really disassociate by thinking about Hawk’s tone and penchant for screaming.

The present, where I seriously don’t deserve to take any more fucking abuse from either of the Storm brothers, so instead of answering l, I just hang up.

Maybe this is what Wolf meant when he said his brother is controlling and manipulating his life. It seems well-intended enough, for sure. But I can see how it could get tiring.

Wait, no I don’t have to defend Wolf. Even if I think he might be right, I won’t defend him.

Where did he go? Is he flying back home? Back to the ranch he wanted to escape more than anything a week ago?

I look down at my phone and pull up Wolf’s contact, he can’t just run away from me again. He can’t?—

No. Pull yourself together and have some dignity, dammit.

This time I’m not going to be worrying over him or seeking him out. Like he said in the stupid-ass note, he warned me about this. So I’m going to believe him.

Besides, he has Rich with him, and he won’t let anything happen to Wolf.

I go down and find three empty bottles—so he kept going after I went up—but there’s no big mess, nothing that screams “an addict had a relapse right here.”

I walk over to Rich’s room and find it neat as a pin. It stupidly makes me feel better, breathe easier.

Not because there’s no mess to pick up like in my bedroom—though I wouldn’t expect anything less from Rich—but because this is confirmation that heiswith Wolf.

And I won’t be.

For real now.

Ever again.

I sit on the side of the bed slowly, trying to keep my legs from giving out on me.

I’m alone. Actually alone this time, and I feel every mile between me and anyone who gives a fuck about me—deeply, like a fucking wound. I have no job, no family, and definitely not a man to share my life with.

I still have more than two months until I’m even allowed to call Dr. Yang to ask about my suspension. What the hell am I going to do?

I look around and will myself to build a wall around my heart.

I have to get back to my original plan. The one where I was going to figure out who I really am and build myself a life I’m happy to live. Only one step of the plan was about exploring my bisexuality with Wolf, not all of it, so I’ll just get back to that.

I walk out to find Alessia picking up the patio table.

“I’m going back home now, Alessia.”

“So soon, signore?”

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