“Robyn, please…” I whispered, and everything else faded into the darkness of the room as I watched her. I couldn’t see the shelves, or the couches, or my desk. Nothing else existed, except what I was about to lose.

The woman I was no longer sure I could live without.

“I can’t do that without consulting—”

“Bullshit,” Robyn spat into the phone. “You’ll be a hero, and we both know it. Ten seconds. Nine… Eight… Seven…”

“Fine.” Wade exhaled heavily. “You have a deal. Your permanent citizenship in exchange for a six-month rehabilitation sentence for Justus Alexander. Effective immediately. We’ll send someone to pick you both up.”

Robyn nodded, though he couldn’t see her, and a growl rumbled up from my throat. “Send Marc Ramos,” she said. “He’s the only one I trust, other than Faythe, and I know she’s exhausted.”

“Done,” Wade said. “He’ll be there in eight hours.”

She hung up the phone and turned to me. Tears stood in her eyes, but her voice was steady. “Take care of your brother, when he gets back. Take care of your men. And don’t be so eager to get them all killed for a girl you just met.” Then she turned and ran out the door.

“Robyn!” I shouted after her. But she was already gone.

I’d already lost her. The only woman I’d ever truly cared about, other than my mother.

Fuck. That.

I marched into the kitchen. “Knox, I need your phone.”

“Sure. Here.” He dug his cell from his pocket with one heavily tattooed hand and slapped it into my palm. I dialed by memory.

Marc answered on the third ring.

“It’s me,” I said.

“Hey, Titus, I’m so sorry about how that went down.”

“I know.” I sank into a barstool at the island, well aware that Knox was listening. “Are you alone?”

“Just me and little Greg. We’re letting Faythe get some sleep. Why?”

“Rick Wade’s about to call you. And I need a favor. From one stray to another…”

TWENTY-FIVE

Robyn

I closed the drapes in my bedroom and tried to sleep, but wound up staring at the ceiling instead. For hours. Trying not to think about what I’d done. About the rest of my life spent in Atlanta, where I didn’t have a single friend.

How long would it take them to wear me down? How long before I agreed to marry some tom, just to shut them all up?

Never. Happen.

I didn’t realize I’d finally drifted off until a knock on the door woke me up. “I’m busy!” I sat up and ran my hands through my hair. If I’d wanted to see Titus, I would have come down for lunch.

“It’s me,” he called from the hallway. I scowled at the door, ready to tell him that I knew who he— “Justus.”

Oh.

“It’s open.”

The younger Alexander brother came in and closed the door, and to his credit, he didn’t say anything about me lying alone in a dark room, in the middle of the day.

“Marc called.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and I scooted forward to join him, my legs dangling over the side. “He’s a few minutes away.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I want you to know that you don’t have to do this.” Justus pinned me with his serious gaze, and it was like looking at a younger version of Titus. “I made mistakes, and I’m ready to pay for them.”

“You had no idea what you were doing.” I scrounged up a small smile. “You need training and support, not punishment.”

Justus nodded. And for a moment, we sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence.

“Are you packed?” he asked at last.

I glanced at the suitcase standing next to the door. I had packed it, but… “I’m not taking anything.” Wearing the clothes Titus had bought me would only make it that much harder to forget him.

And I had to forget him. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life in the Southeast Pride, thinking about what I’d lost. What I’d given up.

“Abby can have the clothes. She’ll have to have them taken in, though.” I shrugged. “Or the guys can donate them to charity.”

“Robyn, I…” Justus cleared his throat and started over. “I wanted to say thank you. My brother would never have found me without you. Drew would have killed me.” He threw his arms around me in a hug that smelled like Titus, but felt much more…fragile.

Justus felt so young.

“Oh, hon, Titus would never have let that happen.” I rubbed his back, blinking away tears. “He would take care of you no matter what. He let himself get kicked out of the Pride to protect you.”

“And you’re doing the same thing. I just… I want you to know how much you mean to him.” He let me go and met my gaze with a teary one of his own. “Titus has never called anyone his girlfriend before. It sounds stupid, but that’s huge for him.”

I sniffled back more tears.

From outside came the swelling rumble of an engine as it drove closer. Marc had arrived.

“Thank you for telling me that.” I pulled Justus into another brief hug, blinking away my tears. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to hate every second of their ‘rehabilitation’ but you’re going to be fine.”

The vehicle stopped out front, and the engine died. I turned to the window as a car door closed. Time’s up.

I stood, and Justus stood with me. “At least we’ll be together. For the drive, anyway,” I said.

We found Marc in the kitchen, contemplating a leftover omelet Knox was trying to get him to eat. He seemed to be hesitating over the arugula.

They both turned when they heard our footsteps. “Robyn.” Marc held his arms open, and I reluctantly accepted a hug, in spite of the tiny handprint-shaped stain on his shirt that smelled like SpaghettiOs. “And you must be Justus.” He let me go and stuck one hand out for Titus’s brother to shake.

“Yes. Sir.” Justus accepted the hand and shook it firmly. He looked terrified, yet dignified. Just like his brother. “I want to say thanks for this.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Marc grinned. “You won’t truly know what you’ve gotten into until Faythe hauls you out of the bathroom because pregnant women always have dibs.”