Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The silence around them is thick with feeling.
Then he looks at Angie.
“Angie, you’re my light,” he says. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life earning the way you look at me.” He raises his glass. “To family. And to the kind of love that builds it from the ground up.”
The kind of love that builds it from the ground up.
The words echo in my chest like a church bell.
I shift in my chair, the night air cooler now, the stars pressing in above the ranch like they’re listening.
I think about the man I killed. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t weigh the consequences or think about what would come next. I just saw my sister’s life hanging in the balance, and I pulled the trigger.
Some people would call that violence. But to me, it was love.
Raw. Brutal. Uncompromising. Not something you inherit or fall into. It’s something you choose. You fight for it. Bleed for it. Bury the worst parts of yourself for it, if that’s what it takes.
Angie is happy. In love. Safe. Free.
I helped give her that.
Yet still I ache inside.
Because while Jason talks about family and building things from the ground up, I keep thinking about the woman who walked away before anything could be built at all.
She never stayed. Never looked back. Never showed me what love looked like, let alone how to build it.
If I’d grown up with her, would I have pulled that trigger? Could she have instilled the kind of love and devotion my family instilled in me?
It wouldn’t matter. If she’d kept me, I wouldn’t have been in Angie’s house in Boulder that day. There wouldn’t have been anyone to keep that creep from killing my sister.
She and Jason could be dead, for all I know.
They wouldn’t be getting married tomorrow.
Damn.
Maybe she did make the right choice.
Maybe things ended up the way they were supposed to.
And maybe, if she could see me now—watching my sister beam at the man I protected—she’d know I turned out okay.
No thanks to her.
And every bit because of the people who stayed.
So maybe she needs to stay where she is.
In the dark. In the recesses of my mind.
That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing to do.
But already…
I know I won’t leave her there.
Because something inside me has changed.
Maybe it was the sound of the gunshot.
Maybe it was watching my sister sob into her fiancé’s arms while blood soaked the ground.
But now there’s this pressure in my chest that won’t ease. A quiet knowledge that survival isn’t enough anymore. That blood ties, no matter how frayed or severed, still hum in the background.
I need to look her in the eye.
I need to ask why.
Even if I already know she won’t have an answer that makes any of this easier.
She left.
But I’m the one who has to carry that absence.
And maybe it’s time I stopped pretending it doesn’t weigh me down.
So no, she doesn’t get to live in the shadows forever.
Not anymore.
Twenty-Seven
Tabitha
The toasts were moving. Both Angie’s dad’s and Jason’s.
Henry will be speaking tomorrow, as best man.
I was hoping he would speak tonight. Just so I could hear his voice.
I can’t stop thinking about him. About our little erotic interlude in my room.
What would it be like to make love with him? I mean truly. Not the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am things we’ve been doing, but something real?
Not that I haven’t enjoyed them. I love a good hard fuck as much as the next girl.
Especially with someone I’m so attracted to.
I’m sitting here with Stephen, who is so not my type. His tanned skin and dark hair are the anti-Henry, and I’ve always been partial to blond men.
And while he’s a very nice guy, one of the best-looking guys here—and that’s saying a lot because the Steel men are famously gorgeous—there’s just no chemistry whatsoever.
I wonder if he feels that way as well.
Plus… My God, he’s boring. All he talks about is wellness and organics and Reiki, oh my.
Sage and Gina are eating it up, and I can’t help but think he might be more interested in one of them. Frankly I’d be fine with that.
Once the toasts are over and dessert has been served, Stephen turns to me. “I should really be going. I have an early appointment in the morning.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Saturdays and Sundays are the busiest days of the week for people who work in the beauty and wellness industry,” he says. “All the people who work during the week come in.”
“Right. Of course.” I should’ve known that. “Sure. I’ll see you out.”
“That’d be great.”
I rise, and he grabs my hand.
His hands are big and beautiful, but my hand feels all wrong in his.
We walk through the house and out the front door to Stephen’s car, which is parked about midway down the long driveway.
“Thank you for inviting me, Tabitha,” he says. “I had a lot of fun.”