What the f**k have I done?
I rip away from Alanna’s hold because there’s no way Luna is doing this alone. “Let her go,” I order, glaring at Noah, who simply smirks happily.
I can see it all over his smug face—he’s won.
“I’m going to take real good care of her,” he says under his breath.
“You motherfucker!” I launch for him, prepared to rip off his head.
Two orderlies stop me, however.
“Dutch, enough,” Alanna says smoothly. “We spoke about this on the phone. You’ve done the right thing.”
Have I, though? Because this feels like anything but the right thing.
I didn’t want to believe Joy, but the evidence was there. Her story confirmed everything I knew to be true. It confirmed everything Jack told me. And when she showed me the photograph of Luna and Jack, it was the proverbial nail.
