Page 148 of Lawless Rivals

“It was wrong,” I say. “Not because of who you are or what people say about you. Because I know what my father does, and I knew he’d use me, eventually.”

Saint’s gaze drops to my mouth for a racing heartbeat, then flicks back up.

“He put the land in my name to turn your own plan against you. I had no idea he’d tied me to it until tonight, when he told me in front of his dinner guests.”

His chest rises as he listens.

“He expected me to talk to Crowley. I refused. Only so it didn’t stop me from leaving. The investigation alone would’ve kept me in Black Heath longer than I wanted.”

The lies are ugly in the quietness of his silence.

Saint drags a hand through his hair, the movement rough enough to disturb the black strands already falling over his forehead. His split knuckles disappear into it for a second, and when his hand drops, he just stares at me.

“Why does it matter to ya what I think?” he asks.

I could tell him it doesn’t. I could lift my chin, reach for the bag, and leave him with lies, but I came here for the truth to give me closure.

“Because I’m not coming back to Black Heath,” I whisper. “And I wanted you to know I wasn’t my father’s puppet.”

I hate the tremor in my voice. “And because it was real for me. I fell for you, Saint, and my father destroyed it by tying my name to the land you risked everything for.”

His breathing changes. A man like Saint gives almost nothing away, but I notice the rise of his chest, and the moment his hand curls and releases at his side.

He takes another step, and I back up.

“I’m not here for you,” I say quickly, before he can speak. “I’m here for myself. So I can start over with a clear conscience.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice rumbles through me.

“My father made me the trap,” I say. “But you still looked at me and saw the bait.”

I turn to the couch and grab my bag strap, hauling upward and swinging it onto my shoulder.

“Goodbye, Saint.”

I swivel away and walk toward the door, then glance over my shoulder. “Whatever I do next is up to me. Not my father and not you.”

“Put the bag down.” His tone is firm, demanding, and enough that I stop before I think better of it.

I don’t turn to face him. “No.”

“Keira.”

“You told me to get off your property without even a goodbye.” The knot in my chest pulls tighter. “You made me believe we had something.”

“I could’ve forced ya to stay,” his voice slips over my shoulder. “Dragged every signature and family secret out of you until I found a way around him. But I let ya leave. So don’t stand there and tell me I don’t know what this costs.”

I keep my grip on the bag because my hands are shaking. “My father has already turned this into a story that serves him, and if I stay here, you’ll both keep fighting. I’ll be stuck in the middle.”

My lashes lower for half a second, then I take a deep breath before my emotions spill over.

“I can’t live between two families who’ve hated each other longer than I’ve been alive.”

“I don’t expect ya to live in the middle, Keira,” he says. “I want ya beside me.”

When I turn away from the door, he’s closer than before.

“I saw your name before I saw you,” he says. “That’s on me.”