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But since she’s been gone, it feels like I’m alone again. Like something terrible is waiting for us just on the other side.
I jerk so hard I bite my tongue and curse, throwing Saint’s hands off me.
“Stop! Just don’t. I don’t deserve to feel better.”
“Get your head out of those thoughts! You aren’t back there. We have everything we ever dreamed. It’s going to be fine. We have to get through tonight, do the job, get the money, so we’re safe. That’s our pack priority,” Saint says the same thing I’ve heard thousands of times, our goals, our plan.
I squeeze my eyes closed because that saying that we keep repeating of ‘it’s going to be fine’ is getting harder and harder to believe.
“Stop it!” Hunter growls at Saint. “It’s too late now. They are gone, and we have a job to do. Bethany is gone. It’s too late.”
“Is it?” I wonder.
Saint gives me a disgusted look and stalks away. I watch him leave and look back at Hunter. His smile is forced, and he’s struggling, I can tell.
It’s been four moredays. Every night, the Raines pack comes in for two hours. They don’t order anything but cokes, and they watch us intently. I’m not sure what they’re lookingfor, but Saint is almost apoplectic with rage. He trembles as he politely stands guard, watching them.
The stress of them being here is wearing us down. I’m running out of energy to fight the chasm that is my broken self.
On the fifth night, we don’t open, but even at home, we go our separate ways, and I find myself sitting on the floor of the nest that we took apart and remembering everything that happened.
The house has never been more silent, and I’m not sure if any of us went to bed. I certainly didn’t.
So, going to the bar on the sixth night was almost a relief. At least there would be a buffer between us. Only, halfway through the night, something intrinsic pulls at me, leaving me dizzy and elated.
And she walks in.
She’s in ripped skinny jeans, knee-high boots, and an off the shoulder white top that drapes itself against her body like water.
I clutch at the bar, finding it hard to breathe. Her white hair is a mane, and her eyes are smokey and determined. When she meets my eyes, she does it for only a second, but I swear, that second sears away any thoughts of self-control.
Her father walks in just behind her, along with the big golden-haired man. I know him now. He’s Charles Raines, the brother of the famous Raines pop princesses. He abandoned his family and his father’s label for love, for this pack.
Saint and Hunter are by my side in a blink of an eye, staring at her like it’s the first time all over again.
She cocks her head up in challenge, and her eyes glint the closer she gets. She looks like an amazon riding to war.
“Hello, Pack Crow.”
I clear my throat, but I have no words.
“You look like you’re doing all right now,” Saint says softly. “I’m glad.”
Her eyes soften a little bit, and she turns to Hunter, who lets out an explosive breath and puts his hand over his face like he can’t bear to look at her.
She smirks knowingly.
“So, can we help you?”
“Yes,” she says, dragging out the syllable with a smile that makes my stomach knot. “I’m here about the job you gave me.”
Saint starts to protest, but she simply shrugs.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to follow through. I understand.”
“Give her the job,” Hunter mutters. “This shit show is going to end one way. May as well just go along with it.”
I whip my head towards him, but he’s already walked off, returning to his spot behind the bar.
