Boomerang will be happy here, away from my chaos. I can’t offer him the life he deserves. Besides, the uncertainty of my future right now is no place for a cat.
I’m alone again.
The shale bites beneath the suitcase wheels, refusing to roll, scraping like resistance. I don’t care. I drag it anyway.
And then I hear it—the low, unmistakable growl of a motorcycle engine. My heart stammers. Breath caught, pulse racing.
I shove harder against the weight in my hands. The gates feel impossibly far, and the suitcase is too damn heavy.
I can’t see his eyes behind the black helmet, but the tilt of his head says it all—he wasn’t expecting this. The bike slows to a rumbling standstill, one boot planted for balance. Then he flicks the visor up.
Those eyes—one dark, one pale—meet mine. The kind I was just starting to believe in.
“Where are you going?” he calls out, voice raised over the low growl of the engine.
“I can’t do this, Cam. I need to go.”
“Can’t do what?”
I don’t answer. I can’t—not without crumbling. I drag the suitcase harder behind me, its weight fighting me every step. I just need to reach the path. Just need to get out of his orbit before I implode.
“Nell?”
The engine dies. He’s off the bike in seconds, helmet discarded, all leathers and heat and everything I’d convinced myself was worth falling for. He strides toward me with that stormy kind of purpose.
“You can’t just leave,” he says. “Where are you going? If this is about the pain thing—if you’re not ready—I swear, I can back off. We don’t have to go there. Not ever, if you—”
“I’m leaving because I won’t compete with your wife.”
That stops him.
But he doesn’t look surprised. Just quiet. Controlled, as always.
Talia’s already told him.
We stand locked in a stare-off. Neither of us backing down. My neck aches from craning so high to meet his gaze, but I refuse to be the first to blink.
“Who said you have to compete?” he asks, voice steady, but there’s heat behind it. His words catch me off guard. They always do.
“She’s your wife, Cam,” I say, fighting to sound grounded. “We both know when she comes back, I’ll be nothing but a spare part. And I’m not the kind of girl who breaks up marriages.”
Not that I would be enough to break up his marriage anyway.
I move to push past him, dragging the suitcase like it doesn’t weigh a ton, but he doesn’t budge. He’s a solid wall of leather and restraint, planted right in the gateway with purpose.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares like he’s solving something unspeakable behind his eyes.
Then, without warning, he snatches the suitcase from my hand and tosses it aside like it’s nothing.
Before I can react, he dips his shoulder and scoops me up like I’m weightless, gripping the backs of my thighs with infuriating ease.
“Cam—what are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
“I’m going to show you exactly why you’re not second choice, Nell.”
52
Nell
