be for much longer,” I growl, stepping inside. “I’m packing her fucking bags.”
Fully agreeing with me, she follows. “I’ll fucking help.”
When Evie comes back, she won’t have a place here, and I don’t want her around long enough to talk her way out of it.
Hell, I don’t want to be here when she returns. I never want to see her cunning face ever again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EVIE
My nerves are going haywire as I drive into the lane leading to the Hayes farm. It didn’t matter how many times I practiced what to say in the car on the way over here, I know I’m going to fuck this up. When I get emotional or upset, I tend to forget what my mouth is for.
The turning on the left for the bed and breakfast comes into view and I signal before turning onto it.
My foot nearly presses the accelerator to the floor when I recognise my clothes being thrown from a window on the upper level.
This isn’t good, and when I catch sight of Jaxon, Eli and Reid standing outside, looking up at the window with forlorn expressions, I know that to be true. Not one of them look happy, yet they all have a touch of concern written on their faces.
My heart begins to race as I pull the car to a stop and meet Wyatt’s gaze through the window.
It’s him throwing my things out of the window, and my heart catches in my throat when his gaze meets mine. His eyes harden, and he doesn’t bother making the effort to hide his despair and anger. Everything around me comes crashing down and I pull the car to a stop, narrowly avoiding a pair of my boots and some makeup.
He knows.
It’s the only explanation. When he steps back from the window, my heart comes to a stop and I shakily exit the car, slowly closing the door behind me.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to keep the tremors from my voice. It’s useless.
Jaxon opens his mouth to answer but Wyatt storming through the door distracts him, and one by one, we all turn to him.
“You fucking bitch!” he roars, taking long strides towards me.
I stagger backwards, clutching my chest. The hatred pouring from him, directed at me… it’s too much. What I have truly done to him hits me with that one look, those few words, and it chips at my heart, cracking it.
I never wanted this to happen.
I know from his expression he isn’t going to listen to reason. He isn’t going to listen to me. He has already made up his mind about me, and I deserve it. All of it.
My heart cracks more, and the gaping hole left in its wake only makes it hurt that much more.
“W-what’s going on?”
I need to hear him say it. I want to confront it all head on. Not all his family are here, but each and every one of them need to hear the truth, and Wyatt needs to hear my side of the story, even if he doesn’t understand it.
He snorts, his chuckle dry as he grips the glass figurine my mum inherited from her mother. “Like you don’t fucking know.”
“Stop,” I cry out when he throws the figurine to the ground.
Shards of glass fly in every direction and tears gather in my eyes. He knew about that figurine and how much it meant to me. My mum used to place the glass fairy that sat on her lily pad on the windowsill, so that when the sun shone through the windows, the light reflecting off it would make rainbows around the room. She told me her mum had made sure to leave the expensive ornament to her before she died.
“That is how I felt when daddy dearest came to visit. I’m surprised you weren’t there to greet him.”
The blood rushes from my face as I look up from the broken glass. “W-what?”
“Yeah, he came in wanting something you told him we had. How could you?” he spits out. “We let you into our home, into our lives, and this is how you repay us?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me. How many fucking men have you slept with for daddy? Huh? How many?” he roars, spittle flying from his lips.
I have never seen this side to Wyatt. He looks crushed. He can’t even look at me without curling his lip.
“Please, listen—”
“Did you tell him about the Franklin job? Is that why it was set on fire?”
My shoulders drop. “It