Page 83 of Rooster

The massive television mounted on the wall comes to life, image after image of a text message exchange flashing on the screen.

My brows draw closer and closer together as I read them, not a single one familiar.

It spells out a plan to ruin Robert's life, to make him fall in love with me, only to turn around and spend the rest of my life with Henry.

Tears fill my eyes as I read, my head shaking of its own volition.

"I can deny I sent those texts," I manage without sobbing. "But I doubt any of you would believe me. I'd like to go home now."

I stand from the table and walk out the door.

Not a single person tries to stop me.

Chapter 30

Rooster

Heathen is the first to stand from the table and follow Morgan from the room.

Hanging my head, I fight the utter exhaustion threatening to take over. I feel it in every cell in my body, and at this moment, I don't know how I'll even make it up the stairs to my bed.

I spent half an hour staring at those text messages when I discovered them. I had gone through cell phone records, comparing what was on her phone to her service provider's data and researching things that didn't match. That's how I discovered them.

I stared at them for hours before trying to reverse-engineer them to make sure they were real. I couldn't discredit them, and even after another hour, I hadn't told anyone I'd found them. I didn't want to believe that they were true, that she had manipulated me from the very beginning, but as the shock wore off, the anger began to set in.

Prior interactions with Henry made me sad because I just wanted my twin to love me as much as I always loved him, but this time around, I was affected by someone more. Knowing she could've been exactly what I'd discovered her to be hurt me more than Henry's role in this, and that's on me. I wanted so badly to look past the red flags and ignore the chance that she was here to deceive me.

I feel like such a fool, and when I pull my head out of my hands and look up, I spot Twisted standing on the other side of the room glaring at me.

"What?" I snap, anger from the entire situation bubbling to the surface, making it very hard to control my emotions.

"You really believe that shit?" he asks, pointing to the television even though I've already taken down the messages I'd discovered.

"You really think I'd let that shit play out the way it did if I hadn't spent hours researching and trying to prove that they were fake?" I growl.

"I made her come here. She would've stayed in her house. She didn't want to leave," he argues.

"And with as easily as she manipulated me, you don't think she was putting on an act?"

"If you knew this was always a possibility, you should've left her the fuck alone," he says, walking out of the room before I can argue my position any further.

He may have a point on how I should've managed my behavior, but that doesn't take into account that, from the text messages, her goal was to always get closer to me.

Silence swarms around me and I hate it. My legs feel like lead weights as I stand. I don't know why I feel like I need to talk to her. Maybe because there's a very good chance that Henry has been taking advantage of her as well. If the man can't be a good person for his blood relatives, I don't see him changing for a woman. Every person in his life has always been a pawn, and I have no doubt that Morgan is no different.

I feel as if I have the weight of the world on my shoulders as I trudge up the stairs, and guilt, along with a million other unprocessed emotions, fill me as I get closer to her room and see the door standing open.

I don't have to step inside to know that in the twenty minutes since she left the conference room, she has also left the house.

"Heathen and Kaylee are going to stay with her tonight," Bandera says, startling me. "Do you need to talk about this with someone?"

"Are you offering?" I ask with little to no emotion in my tone. I just don't have the fucking energy for any of it right now.

"I'm not skilled enough for that shit," he says, his voice sounding much weaker than it did not long ago when he was confronting Morgan in the conference room. "I can find someone for you, though."

"I'm fine," I mutter, walking further down the hallway toward my room.

Even though I want to rage and break shit, I don't even slam my bedroom door. I simply close it quietly and fall onto my unmade bed.

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