***Tiffany
I didn’t cry.
Not when Kat tackled me. Not when Rafe slapped me. Not even when the door slammed behind me and I was left standing in my apartment, mascara smeared and pride shattered.
I didn’t cry. I planned.
They thought I was done. That I’d crawl away and lick my wounds. But I don’t crawl. I climb.
Wolf humiliated me. Kat made me look weak. Rafe abandoned me. Fine. Let them think they won.
I wasn’t finished.
I reapplied my lipstick—darker this time. War paint. Then I grabbed my keys and headed back to the motel. Rafe would listen. He had to. We had a plan. I could still help.
But when the door opened, it wasn’t Rafe.
It was someone else.
Tall. Quiet. Eyes like frostbite. He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at me like I was a puzzle missing half its pieces.
“You’
