“I’m fine,” he replied. “And I can’t stay here, Brighton. Now that I know you’re okay…”
He trailed off, but I knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Brayden, please…”
“He tricked me just to get me here. I played right into his hands. Frankie’s wife has known about us all along. She doesn’t give a shit.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Norma-Jean spoke to her,” he explained. “She called to try to reason with her. It turned out, Frankie had been lying to us all along. He never had any ties to the mob. He was a hired gun for some sort of loan shark, but he told us that so he wouldn’t have to be responsible for us.”
“So we’re not in danger then?” I asked in confusion.
“Not from Frankie’s family. It’s why he’s dead. He paid for his sins, but it doesn’t change anything. I have to end this, Brighton,” he said calmly. “I know you think you love Ryland, but this is never going to stop.”
“No.” My lip quivered, and I looked away. “It isn’t ever going to stop. Because you both keep trying to kill each other. I can’t fucking handle this anymore, Brayden.”
My voice rose, and I was becoming hysterical, but I didn’t care.
The door burst open a moment later, with Ryland and the same angry nurse.
“That’s it,” she growled. “I’m calling security.”
“I want them both gone,” I snapped. “I don’t want to see either of you again.”
They both looked at me with pained expressions while the nurse made the call.
“Brighton…” they pleaded simultaneously.
“You can both keep playing this twisted game,” I cried. “But I’m done. I’m out. I have nothing left to give anymore. ”
An eery silence fell over the room while they both processed my words. I meant what I said, and they could see that.
I was done. I wouldn’t be like Norma. I wouldn’t raise my child living in fear and holing myself away.
Security arrived a few minutes later, and neither one of them said another word as they were dragged from the room. It was the first peaceful feeling I’d had in six months.
***