Josie
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
I turned to Marcy, eyes wide, heart hamring like a drum. "Why the hell would you stop from tearing that letter?!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the room before I could even think about lowering it. "That’s none of your business, Marcy!"
We stared at each other, two won standing in the thick tension that filled the air. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and I saw the exact second she bit back the thing she wanted to say. Finally, it was Marcy who looked away first.
"I’m sorry," she muttered, her voice low. "I stepped out of line. You’re the Next Luna, after all. I should’ve rembered my place." Her tone was clipped, cold in a way that Marcy’s voice had never been with before.
That hit harder than it should have. My anger simred, confusion lacing through it like poison. I blinked, suddenly unsure. "Wait... Marcy," I started, reaching out instinctively to grab her hand. "I didn’t an to snap like that, I just—"
She pulled her hand gently from mine and shook her head. "No, it’s fine. I’m not angry. But I need a break."
My heart dropped a little. A break? From ?
"That doesn’t sound like you," I said slowly, carefully. "You’ve never been the type to bottle things up. So why are you doing it now?"
She looked at then, really looked at —and the pain in her eyes made my stomach twist. "Because if I tell you how I really feel, Josie, things between us will never be the sa. And I’d rather just... leave it."
That silence that followed was worse than any screaming match. I couldn’t even find the words to respond. My throat felt tight.
"Are you coming back?" I asked finally, hating how small my voice sounded.
She turned fully to , and I stepped back instinctively when I saw her eyes glisten. "Josie," she said, her voice thick. "You don’t even realize what you’re doing to people."
My brows furrowed. What?
Before I could speak, she shoved the letter hard into my chest. I caught it out of reflex, even though I didn’t want to touch the damn thing. She didn’t look at as she said, "You can do whatever you want," and then turned to walk out.
"Marcy, what the hell does that even an?!" I snapped. "All I’ve done is give everything I had—to you, to them, to this damned pack!"
She stopped in her tracks.
And then she laughed. It wasn’t joyful. It wasn’t even amused. It was sharp, bitter, and exhausted.
"You always do that," she said, spinning back around to face . "Make it all about you."
My chest heaved, and I shook my head. "That’s not fair—"
"When was the last ti you even asked what’s going on in my life?" she cut in, eyes narrowing. "I co here from my ho to see you, and all I get is the endless cycle of how Thorne looked at you, or how Kiel broke your heart, or how Varen is the only one who gets you. It’s always your pain. Your sadness. Your problems."
I tried to speak, but my tongue felt heavy. She was on a roll now, years of friendship suddenly burning in the fire of this mont.
"You act like your world only beca hard after the boys broke your heart," she continued, voice rising. "You forget that you used to be strong, Josie. You forget that before the triplets, you were your own damn person. And now? You’re spiraling, and you’re dragging the people who love you most down with you."
"That’s not true!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "I—I’ve always appreciated you. I’m just going through—"
"Go ahead, deny it," Marcy snapped. "You’re mad at because I cared. Because I stopped you from acting out of pain. But fine, Josie. From now on, don’t call when you have a problem. Don’t expect to run down here to comfort you. And while you’re at it, tell those precious n of yours that I’m unavailable."
Her words hit like slaps, one after the other, and I felt like the floor might give out beneath my feet. "Marcy..." I whispered. "You don’t an all that. Please, just—can we talk about this?"
She smiled. It was cold. "Of course I don’t an it, Josie. Because how you feel is the only thing that matters, right?" She turned away from again. "I won’t be showing up at this packhouse unless I’m invited in a professional capacity. Luna duties only."
I rushed after her.
"Marcy, wait!" I called, my feet moving faster than my thoughts. I nearly caught her at the stairs—almost—but then I saw sothing that made every muscle in my body freeze.
Michelle. Standing at the bottom of the staircase with that disgusting, satisfied little smirk painted across her face.
She looked positively gleeful. Glee. Like seeing my life crumble around was the best thing that had happened to her in weeks.
No.
No, she didn’t get to look happy while I was in pain. Not her. Not the person who had made my life hell.
I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I moved.
I stord down the stairs, my eyes locked on her like a predator who’d just spotted its prey. She was still grinning when I reached her and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her forward.
She yanked back and laughed. "Oh, calm down," she said with mock concern. "Soone as weak as you should be careful about dragging people around. You might just get beat to a pulp."
"Shut up!" I snapped, fury rising in my throat like bile. "Shut your damn mouth, Michelle!"
Her grin faltered—just for a second. "Touchy this morning, aren’t we?"
"I rember everything now," I hissed, my grip tightening on her wrist. "Every single thing you did to ."
She blinked, her lips parting. "And?"
"And," I growled, "you’re about to be kicked out of this pack."
She stared at for a long mont before throwing her head back and laughing like I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, mocking . "You haven’t seen the video, have you?"
I paused.
What?
"What video?" I asked, heart skipping.
Michelle’s smile widened like a cat playing with its cornered prey. "Exactly," she purred.
And that was where the ground shifted beneath again.
Where the rage twisted into dread.
What the hell was she talking about?
Reviews
All reviews (0)