15
Watching Brook walk from the house, knowing what she headed back toward, almost tore me in two. I wanted to chase after her, sling her over my shoulder, and seclude her in my bedroom with a big screw you to the rest of the pack. If Dad and Nate had taught me anything, though, they’d taught me that patience and rationalisation got far better results than their opposites—even if my body and mind screamed for neither.
Even once the door had closed at her rear, I stared that way, the image of her lingering, my heart thudding like a huge chasm had split the ground between us, rather than the couple of days’ organisation it would take me to hopefully be able to offer her a better life. One that involved me.
Only after the grumble of the engine had dwindled away did I turn back to Dad and N
