Chapter 52

Everything was a fucking mess—if I took a page out of Killian’s language book.

Trying to avoid the Byrnes and the pack per my father’s request was exhausting and emotionally draining. Instead of sitting down and talking to Nolan about everything, I sent him an extremely detailed email breaking down all of his social media habits, his team information, his release information, and more so he had everything in a single spot. I included all of his notes and my official resignation letter from working for both of his businesses. As soon as the email was sent, I logged out of my computer and shut it down. I couldn’t bear the thought of his reply. He’d understand but at what cost?

And trying to get things together without running into anyone was a feat that had me visiting neighboring towns for things like boxes and left me on the verge of tears. Or maybe the tears were for my lost curls, sacrificed to chemical straightening because straight hair was more presentable. Or maybe it was the fact that I was missing Charlotte’s funeral—a woman I admired and called a friend.

Or maybe it was the painful realization that I couldnt maintain this way of life. It was too much, and Cedar Harbor was so small. Moving away would be easier.

The thought was ideal for letting go and moving on. But some things I wasn’t ready to let go of. I clung to them because I didn’t know what else to hold on to.

I was giving Killian the house. My lawyer would give him all the paperwork he needed to sign. I just had to get the few things I was allowed to bring back to my father’s home and donate the rest. Which was how I ended up lugging boxes down my drive to my back door when I saw the door broken.

I froze. The doorknob was gone. Just gone as if butchered right out of the wood. What the heck?

My heart pounded a little faster in my chest. Had Killian tried to come by? I never changed the locks. He should’ve had the keys to get into everything. There was no need to break it down.

Or maybe the hunter?

No. I shook my head. That was a ridiculous thought. There was no reason the hunter would go through this much trouble just for someone like me. I wasn’t anything special—not in a town full of wolves.

Still, I cautiously pushed open the door and peeked inside my own house. A small groan passed through my lips as I saw Raven sitting on my dining table with the broken doorknob casually next to her. She munched on an apple.

“It’s funny you think something as trivial as a lock could keep me out,” Raven commented with a small grin. “You can block my calls, but I’m marrying my handyman. I know how to get through a door.”

“You broke the door,” I said.

“I know. Declan is getting you a new doorknob,” she replied. Good Lord, I could only imagine his face when she called him with that news. “He’ll install it for you too.”

“I can do it myself,” I told her quietly. The less Byrnes the better. “Raven—”

“I vaguely remember you showing up at my house uninvited when I tried to cut everyone out,” she interrupted and slid off the table. “I’m assuming something similar is happening here. I made Declan try to call you. He’s blocked too.”

She said it like I wasn’t already aware of that fact.

“And I vaguely remember you closed the door on my face and locked it.”

“Semantics.” She waved me off. Her gaze fell to the stack of boxes on my porch. “Best friends don’t let best friends pack alone. How can I help?”

I drew in a deep breath. Just say it. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want the fight if my father found out she was here.

“You can leave,” I said and opened the door wider for her.

“And leave you to pack alone? That sounds boring.” She wandered to the kitchen, throwing away her apple and raiding the fridge. “We could drink wine while we pack.”

“I don’t want your help packing.”

“Or we could skip packing and drink wine while you tell me why you’re packing.”

“Raven—”

“Is it Killian?” Raven demanded. “Did he do something? I swear I don’t care if he’s Declan’s brother, I’ll still kick his—”

“This is about me!” I interrupted, my voice rising a notch and cracking with the words. I cleared my throat to try again. “This isn’t about Killian. This is about me and what I need. I can’t… I can’t go down this road. Anymore. It hurts too much. I should’ve done this three years ago.”

“You love him.” She said it like a fact. And it was. “And he loves you.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand! Make me understand why you’re doing this to yourself. We’re family, Ginny. I just want to help you. Tell me how I can help.”

I drew in a shaky breath and willed the tears not to fall. She’d never understand.

“If you really want to help, you’ll leave.” I inched the door open fully to make sure she understood. “Please.”

She considered me for a long moment—so long that I was positive I’d have to fight her to get her to leave. I prayed otherwise. I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore. I just wanted to fade away and not deal with any of it anymore.

“Well.” Raven clicked her tongue. “I love you, and I respect you and your choices, even if I think they’re bad and you’re going to end up getting hurt. I’ll be back to bug you tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t,” I called after her.

“Yes, I will! You can’t stop me!”

“I won’t answer the door.”

“I’m marrying a lumberjack and have access to an obscene amount of axes,” she said. “I’ll get through that door if I have to! Love you, Ginny.”

“Damn it,” I whispered. Closing the door, I sighed as I leaned against it. She wasn’t going to make this easy, was she?

I gave up packing and just sat on my living room floor surrounded by unorganized books. Special editions, signed copies, and series were lumped together in different piles with hopes I’d pack them and bring them with me. I couldn’t. There was no way I could bring them back to my father’s house. I just had to pack them up and hope Killian would figure out what to do with them—not that he needed more on his plate.

Declan had shown up with a new doorknob and worked in complete silence as he fixed it. I drank wine and just stared at him. No doubt Raven had told him. He didn’t say a word about it—just fixed my door, hugged me, and told me he loved me before he left. Why’d he have to be so kind?

Why did any of them have to be that way? Why couldn’t they be horrible people? That would’ve made it easy to walk away, right?

Even I knew that logic was broken. I knew my father was a deeply flawed man. He took that out on my sister and I with his skewed logic on the proper way to raise children. No matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough.

I would never be good enough.

So why did I bother? Why couldn’t I walk away?

The simple answer: I didn’t know how. I just kept ending up right back home. He was my father. I was supposed to love him and obey him.

The buzzing of my phone on the floor made me glance down, wondering who was trying to get in touch with me now. It wouldn’t surprise me if one or many of the Byrnes tried to contact me via a different phone. However, Gabby’s name on my screen was unexpected.

GABBY: Why the fuck are you moving back home? Mom called and left a VM that you are.

I sighed. Of course, Mom had called and informed her about my situation. And of course, this was the one time Gabby answered her calls.

I just need to start over.

GABBY: No, I started over. You’re going right back to the bullshit. Why would you do that to yourself?

It won’t be so bad.

GABBY: Yeah okay. ?? Did Phillip say that? Or did he set the ground rules the minute you wanted to go live with them?

I took a long sip of wine as I stared at the message. I never could understand my sister’s level of disrespect for our father. Yes, he wasn’t a wonderful man, but I couldn’t imagine ever calling him by his first name.

GABBY: Your stunned silence tells me everything, Ginny.

I don’t know what you want me to say.

GABBY: I want you to realize that our piece of shit father is an abusive dickhead.

He’s not abusive. He’s just strict.

GABBY: Even strict parents look at Phillip like he’s fucking nuts.

GABBY: Which he is.

He just loves us.

At least I kept telling myself that. He said the words, but in my darker moments, I wondered if he did.

GABBY: I fucking hate how you listen to him.

GABBY: You had a man who loved you. Fuck, I wish I could find someone who looks at me the way Killian looks at you.

GABBY: Most of us will never have that and you’re what? Throwing it away for Phillip fucking Goodwin?

You wouldn’t understand.

GABBY: You know, it’s funny how you keep saying that, but you don’t give anyone the chance to try. Maybe if you tried telling me what happened with you and Killian, I would understand.

It’s my burden to bear, Gabby.

GABBY: I’m not going to exhaust myself trying to reason with you when you don’t want to listen.

GABBY: I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself.

GABBY: I love you. Always will. You know where I am when you’re ready to see the truth.

I dropped my phone. There was no point. She wouldn’t say another word to me—she never did. There was no fighting with Gabby. There was just her saying her piece and then ignoring me for weeks to months on end. I didn’t blame her—not really. I admired her with her tenacity and ambition. I just wasn’t that person. I couldn’t just up and leave Cedar Harbor and start over for the heck of it. Even now as I raced toward that being a very real possibility for me, I hated it. It made me sick to my stomach.

Or maybe that was the wine on an empty stomach. Didn’t care. Wine helped. I grabbed the bottle and emptied it into my glass. A bottle of wine just didn’t go as far as it used to.

A knock on my door made me sit a little taller. I didn’t move otherwise and just waited.

“Nemo,” Nolan said through the door. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I couldn’t face him. “Please, answer the door, Ginny. I don’t care about my business or The Treehouse. I care about you. Please, don’t go back there. We can fix this. You and me. We’re a team.”

I swallowed the sob that tried to creep its way out. Instead, I downed the rest of my glass.

“Please, Ginny,” he tried once more. “Let me help you. Don’t go back. Please.”

I let him do the talking because I didn’t know what else to say. I’d cave and break if I saw him.

“I didn’t know what to do three years ago… what to say to you… and I didn’t know how to help you then, but I’m here. I’m here now. I’ll always be here. Just… open the door.”

“Please, stop talking,” I whispered under my breath. I clamped a hand over my mouth and hoped that he didn’t hear me. Damn wolf hearing.

“I know you blame yourself, Ginny, but it’s not your fault,” Nolan said. “Losing him wasn’t your punishment.”

That was the sentence that broke me. Any chance I had of fighting back the tears was lost between wine and painful sentiments. I buried my head in my arms and sobbed.