The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,145

time?”

“Both.”

I hid my wince as I shoved to my feet and came to stand toe-to-toe with the man who sired me. He was out of his mind if he thought I’d believe for a second that he cared about anyone other than himself. “There’s a reason you were born a predator, Pops. You wouldn’t have lasted long if you were prey.”

Turning away after one last look of disgust, I patted my pockets for my phone and wallet before remembering that I’d left them both in the Crown Vic. I looked around wondering what the hell I was going to do now when I spotted them both waiting on the nightstand. My hand paused, however, when I noticed the Impala’s keys lying next to them.

I’d left them behind in Blackwood Keep with Lou.

Noticing where my attention had gone, Crow said, “She’s smart. She drove the Impala right into the heart of Fox’s territory and used it as some sort of bat signal.” I wanted to drive my elbow into his face when he chuckled. “Luckily, I got to her before Fox’s men did. She’s got balls.”

Risking Exiled finding her had been a chance she was willing to take…for me, all without knowing why I didn’t deserve it.

“She didn’t try to save you alone,” Crow continued. “She left with them…after making sure you were safe. Bear was there, too. Helped me take those guys out.”

I ignored his nervous rambling as I considered leaving the keys to the Impala behind. Since my father wasn’t as dead as I thought, the car technically still belonged to him. I snatched them up along with my wallet and phone. The car still wasn’t safe, but I had nothing left to lose.

Spotting my shirt tossed over the back of a wooden chair, I pushed past my father to retrieve it. It was still torn and bloody, and suddenly, I remembered Jackal attempting to disembowel me to save himself. I shoved it over my head.

“I have a clean shirt you can wear.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” I shot back. I knew I sounded like a brat, ignoring what was practical, but I didn’t give a shit about that, either. I’d taken care of myself for five years, and I’d continue to do so.

“Then why are you so angry?” he pressed.

“Because I did need you!” I roared before I even knew what had come over me.

For a moment, his shock mirrored mine. But then my chest began to heave, my hands balled into fists, and my nostrils flared. I was a flurry of emotions. He stood so very still. Long seconds passed, each of them a wave of control until I was once again drowning in it.

“I did need you,” I repeated without the turbulence from a moment ago. “But I don’t anymore.”

An eternity seemed to pass. The room became a bubble, bringing a solitude so silent that I swore I not only felt but heard my heart splintering right down the middle.

Relief washed over me when I saw him deflate.

“Then I won’t stop you from going.” His words sounded like the echo of a key turning inside a lock. The moment the catch released, I didn’t hesitate to make a break for the door. “But you should know,” he called out before I could step over the threshold, “I never left you, son, and I won’t leave you now, so if you ever do need me again, I won’t be far away.”

I could feel his gaze, and even though he didn’t move an inch, I could feel him reaching out for me.

I fled before I could reach back.

ONE BY ONE, I PEELED away the fragile petals of Wren’s heart.

He loves me not. He loves me forever.

Best friends forever. Soul mates…never.

When I got down to the very last petal, I sighed.

He loves me.

A week ago, I would have run to him, shown him the evidence, and gloated over owning his heart. I would have made him confess and promise me forever.

A week ago, he hadn’t been the reason my parents were dead.

I stared hopelessly at the flower petals littering the ground. Wren hadn’t tried to defend himself or make excuses. All of this time, he’d been carrying the guilt on his shoulders, and when the truth had come out, he’d laid it at my feet like an offering. His dishonor was now mine. To enforce …or forgive.

Before I could decide Wren’s fate, a chorus of giggling that may as well have been nails on a chalkboard interrupted my