Key stays with me a while longer, talking, trying to lighten things, eating most of the bread himself. I try to respond, try to act like I’m okay, but I’m not. Nothing he says changes that, because none of it takes away what I’ve done.
The guilt doesn’t fade. It builds, slow and heavy, pressing in until it feels like I can’t breathe properly. This was never supposed to happen. I came here for a reason—to get what I needed—and I have it now. The footage. The story. Everything I came for.
And all I’ve done since is make things worse. For them. For me. For all of us.
I can’t stay here. Not after this. Not when staying means dragging this out even further. Not when leaving might be the only way to stop making things worse.
I draw in a slow breath, steadying myself. All good things come to an end—even the ones you didn’t expect to mean anything.
It’s time for me to go.
CHAPTER 26
Reid
Talon is pacing like a wild animal when I find him, muscles corded, nose flaring like a bull about to charge. There’s murder in his eyes. I’ve never seen him this angry.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask as he carves deep grooves into the ground. “What the hell were you fighting about in front of our guests?”
“He started it.” His voice is a harsh exhale, low and rough.
“Who threw the first punch?”
He doesn’t answer. That tells me everything I need to know.
“Damn it, Tal. You’re supposed to be the smart one.”
“He was talking shit,” Tal snaps. “He’s always talking shit.”
“And you’re always letting it slide. What made this time different?”
He shrugs, sharp and angry, like the motion itself offends him. “Maybe I didn’t feel like letting it slide anymore.”
That tells me everything and nothing. “Was it about Sierra?”
He jerks like I slapped him, glare snapping toward me, pissed that I’ve seen too much.
“So it is about her,” I say. “Damn it, you two, this is exactly what I didn’t want. That’s why I told you both to stay away from her.”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps pacing.
“Tal. Say something.”
“I did,” he mutters. “I tried to stay away, but—” He drags a hand over his face, glancing toward the shed, something conflicted flickering across his expression.
That’s enough. Something happened in there. Something he regrets—and doesn’t.
A flash of anger hits me, sharp and unexpected, but I push it down. Getting pissed at him or Luke won’t help, and it’d be hypocritical as hell.
I’m no better.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, tension tightening along my spine, then force out a breath.
What’s done is done. Now we deal with it.
“How’s your eye?” I ask. It’s already swelling, bruises forming across his jaw and cheek. Luke must’ve really gone at him.
Talon lifts a hand to his face like he forgot it was there. “It’s fine.”