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“Holland, look at me.”

Grudgingly, I turned and met his eyes.

“We’ve been friends since we could walk. I’ll miss you. Won’t you miss me.”

I glanced away. “Sure.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you. But this is good, right?”

“Sure.” I didn’t want to hear those words. It was why I avoided him. My best friend. I couldn’t take pity from him, of all people.

“Holland,” he said firmly. “Hey.”

“What?”

“I’m going hug you. Now.”

I turned back toward him. Said nothing.

“I’m going to hug you,” he said again.

He came to me then, and I let him put his arms around me. It felt awful and terrible and wonderful and my throat swelled and I thought I might choke.

“You’ll be okay. You promise me,” he whispered in my ear. “You’ll heal and be healthy and wonderful. And maybe you’ll think of me now and again. Right? I love you, Holland. I love you.”

Slowly, my hands raised around his waist and my palms pressed against his ribs. Harly. He’d been my brother. My confidant. My other half. Until everything got ruined.

I love you, too.I wanted to say it aloud but my throat swallowed the words.

“I know,” he said softly, as I started to pull away. “I know you’ll be well and have a wonderful life.” He looked at me, his hands still on my waist. “I know because you’re you. You’re you and you always will be. Holland, the brightest, the best, the most beautiful.”

I pulled away from him. My insides trembled violently. I had no structure in this moment, and I needed it.

Harly seemed to know it. And he didn’t need more from me than I could give. He never had. Tears dotted his cheeks, but he smiled wide enough that his pretty, straight white teeth showed. He always had the best smiles.

“Can I carry your box out front for you?” he asked.

Biting the inside of my lower lip, I nodded. “Thank you.”

Chapter Ten

Orion

The limo waiting outside the front gate, humming under the blue sky, was a giant but elegant piece of machinery that would glide us to our new arrangement.

I had wanted to drive myself in my Jeep, but I figured I needed this to look official and special. Only the best for my fake bondmate.

For an Omega who needed rescuing, Holland seemed very calm when I met him in Warden Chirl’s office. But tell-tale signs communicated otherwise. This situation was nothing if not dire. For him to be potentially turned over to be claimed by the man who’d raped him turned my stomach. It had to be a horrific nightmare for him. It was a wonder he remained coherent.

Now as my driver loaded Holland’s small box of belongings into the trunk, Holland held his head high. He walked smoothly to the open passenger door. But as I saw him touch the side of the door and lower himself to step inside, his hand trembled.

Once I entered the limo behind him and sat on the couch seat facing him, I saw the tension in the muscles around his mouth and eyes. He stared straight forward and over my left shoulder, his blue eyes bright and clear.

Many times I’d asked him in emails to meet me. For a meal. For an in-person conference. He’d always declined.

I wondered now what must be going through his mind.

He wore his white shirt buttoned all the way to his neck. His black trousers fit him loosely about the hips. He leaned back stiffly, his silken hair falling in shiny waves over one cheek, and clasped his hands in his lap.