Page 121 of Savage Promises

But how could I? Shane was right. I’ve been holding back, too afraid to let myself believe in him, in us. And now it’s too late.

By sunrise, the tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty, hollow ache in my chest. Shane had it right all along.

A Quinlan can’t be with a Donnelly.

We tried, and we failed.

I stagger downstairs after I hear the front door slam. Duly signed divorce papers sit on the kitchen island, the ink of his signature still drying.

Just like that, it’s over.

Shane is gone. I have nothing left but my club and the shattered pieces of a life I wasn’t strong enough to hold on to.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Lennox

Packing up that afternoon feels surreal. I try not to cry at every zipper I force closed on my mismatched suitcase and carry bag. I feel like a hobo without a proper set of high-end matching luggage. As if packing what’s left of my life into twelve pieces of classic Louis Vuitton cases would make me feel better.

Regardless, I’ll leave here with my head held high. Even though I’m on the verge of a breakdown. Leaving Shane, the man I’ve loved most of my life, is simply soul-crushing.

The house beyond my door is quiet, teasing me like a fragile emptiness that Shane wants to return to. He didn’t want to marry Neve. He didn’t want to marry anyone. Just saw it as a duty. It’s no surprise he divorced me so easily.

God, I’m not even thirty and I’ll be divorced!

Someone knocks on my door.

“Come in.”

“You need help?” Dorian asks gruffly.

“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve got it.”

He hesitates, shifting his weight from side to side. “I’m still assigned to you, you know. Orders haven’t changed.”

My chest tightens. Shane hasn’t cut off my protection, even now.

“Thanks,” I say quietly, “But I don’t even know where I’ll be living yet. And wherever it is, I won’t have an extra room for guards.”

“Then I’ll watch you from my car.” He puts his hands behind his back. The dedication of the men who protect the Quinlans astounds me.

“If those are your orders.” I look away to pack up Hawk last.

He meows ruefully when I lift him away from his perch, his favorite tree disappearing from his little yellow eyes. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

Into the carrier he goes, hissing and trying to scratch me. It breaks my heart and a teardrop beads up on the plastic case as I secure him inside.

It wasn’t lost on me last night in the middle of the horrific confrontation with Shane how he said Hawk can say, butIhad to leave. He’s been doubling up on those patches and suffering in silence because of his allergies. Yet, he’d take that massive discomfort over living with me.

That’s how much I hurt him by not opening up to him. By not trusting him.

With everything packed up, I take one last look at my bedroom. Shane wouldn’t even share a bed with me. Except to fuck me.

Dorian carries my bags, walking stoically behind me. It’s so embarrassing. I’ve been ordered to leave. Thrown out.

Liz stands near the stairs, her hands wringing in front of her. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Can I do anything to help, dear?” she says softly, the sadness in her voice hard to hide.

---