Page 95 of Before the Bond
"That's not what I'm doing."
"It's exactly what you're doing." His voice dropped, rougher underneath. "You gave her an exit and she used it. Fine. I'mnot arguing with that. But there's a difference between giving someone the door and deciding you don't get to live after."
"She made her choice," I said.
Jake pulled Donovan back. I stumbled, fingers catching the edge of the desk, and held there a moment while the room decided to stay level. I found the cane and started toward the door.
"Caleb," Donovan said again. "Please."
Even through everything, I heard it — the shakiness underneath. The closest his walls had ever come to falling.
"Be prepared for tonight," I said. "That's the best we can do."
I hobbled out. No one followed me.
I moved through the hall slowly, one hand trailing the wall when I needed it. I wasn't in a hurry. I wasn't sure I had the right to be in a hurry about anything anymore, and besides, there was something I wanted to do while I still could.
I took the long way. Past the kitchen. Past the fireplace. Past where she stood that night.
I stood in the corridor for a moment. Then I kept moving.
When I was nearly back to my study, I saw Stella's silhouette at the back entrance.
Jacket on, hair pulled back, ready for another sweep. She caught Donovan coming out of the corridor and stopped moving.
I stepped out onto the back porch and stayed there.
The cold settled around me, damp and sharp with resin. I left the door cracked and stood with my back to the house and my eyes on the tree line and told myself I wasn't listening.
Stella's voice came through low and even. "At this rate, he's going to lose."
A pause. Long enough that I knew Donovan was deciding whether to answer.
"I know," he said finally.
"You know." She let that sit. "You know. And you’re fine with it?"
"What would you have me do, Stella?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know what I should be doing myself. Anything that isn't standing here watching him walk out there half of what he should be." There was a sound — her moving, the particular restlessness of someone who couldn't hold still when something was wrong. "I didn't make a home here to run."
"No one's asking you to stay."
The silence felt heavy after Donovan said it.
"The Voss pack won't go after people who stay out of it," he went on.
I heard nothing for a moment. Not a breath, not a shift of weight.
Then Stella said, very quietly: "Is that what you want?"
Donovan didn't answer that.
"This is still my damn town." Her voice was steady now in a way that wasn't controlled — it was simply immovable. "I'm not going without a fight. I have too much at stake here. I worked too hard to build something for myself. The Voss pack is trying to take everything you've all worked for, too. I can't let that happen."
The silence that followed was the kind that accumulated meaning the longer it held.
"I have things I want to protect, too," Donovan said at last.
