Scythe & Sparrow (The Ruinous Love Trilogy, #3)(83)

I go through the motions of my nighttime routine and fall into an exhausted sleep that feels like a haze of static gray.

When I wake the next morning, it’s just after seven. My first thoughts are of the pain of the night before. Memories of the hard edge in Fionn’s eyes. I remember how high my heart had soared when he pressed his lips to mine, only to come crashing down a few short hours later.

Hand on my throbbing forehead, I trudge to the en suite and take a shower. I stand in the scalding spray, staring blankly at the white tiles. I’m not even sure how long I’m there before I tear myself away. I’m wrapped in my towel and still dripping wet when I check my phone on the bathroom counter. There’s a text from Lark, a reminder about our plans to meet for coffee later this morning. I groan and press the edge of the phone to my forehead. I’m not really in the mood to meet up with anyone right now, but I can’t just cut and run, not from one of the girls. I thought I’d have all this time to build the foundations of these new friendships into something solid. Something permanent with roots in the ground. I think Sloane and Lark expected it too. It wouldn’t be right to just leave without telling at least one of them why I’m cutting out.

I reply with my confirmation, pack up my toiletries, and head to the dresser. I’m just pulling on my hunting blade and clothes when I hear Fionn speaking to someone on the phone in his room across the hall. I can’t make out the words, only the low tones of his voice. My spine goes rigid. I didn’t think about what it would be like to actually have to face him this morning. I don’t think I can handle scratching at a wound that’s still so raw.

I make out the clipped sound of Fionn’s goodbye. And then, a moment later, I hear the shower turn on.

Five minutes. Ten tops.

I can make it out before he even realizes I’m gone.

I’m a tornado in the room, tossing open drawers to gather my clothes by the armful and shove them into my new backpack. My few framed photographs on the dresser are next. My washbag. Fuck the shampoo and conditioner and my worn-out razor. I’ll get new ones. Fuck the beer in the fridge too, dammit. Dirty clothes from the laundry basket in the closet go on top. A little ass-backward, but I’m running against time. In less than five minutes, I’m creeping out of my room, shutting the door behind me just as Fionn’s shower turns off. I throw on my jacket and boots and purse, set the apartment keys on the island, and, with a final glance around the place I’ve called home for the last month, I leave.




When I step outside, I tighten the straps on my backpack and start heading south, bringing up my map to guide the way to Lark’s favorite coffee shop, Trident Café, which will take me a solid thirty minutes on foot. But I keep a good pace. I fend off the chill of the October air through my damp hair. I try to think about all the things I want to say to Lark, and all the things I don’t.

I enter the shop not long before she’s set to arrive. I order a coffee and claim a round table where Lark will be able to spot me as soon as she walks in. I’m taking the first sip of the blessed black liquid when my phone buzzes with a text. Fionn’s contact photo appears on my screen.

Did you leave?



I press my eyes closed. A deep breath does nothing to calm the surge in my pulse. Normally, I’d make some quip about his credentials. I’d have a joke ready or a teasing jab. But today, my response is just a single word.

Yes.



The dots of Fionn’s reply are immediate.

Permanently?



I roll my eyes.

Yes. I left my keys on the island. I’ll make sure Lachlan knows he can grab them.

You also left your tarot deck.



“What the fuck,” I say out loud, the legs of my chair grating against the tile floor as I stand. I pat down my jacket pockets. I dig through my purse. I’m starting to tear through my backpack when I remember. It was in the leather pouch on my nightstand. I can picture it clearly. “Fuck. Fucking fuck.”

I’m dragging a hand through my hair when my phone buzzes with another text.

I can bring it to you.

I’m having coffee with Lark. Then I’m going to meet up with Silveria at 1PM at Fan Pier.

I have to be at the airport by then. But it’s on the way. I can give you your deck back and drop you off at Fan Pier if you’re okay to be there a little early.





I sigh, cursing myself. I’m not thrilled at the prospect of seeing Fionn after I made so much effort to get the fuck out of there. But I cannot and will not leave Gran’s deck behind.

I’m deliberating, still weighing my options when a flash of blond hair catches my attention out the window. Lark strides toward the entrance of the café, her eyes meeting mine through the glass. Her smile ignites and she waves.

Okay. Trident Café.

I’ll pick you up at 11:30.



Other than a thumbs-up to his message, I don’t reply, setting my phone down on the table to embrace Lark when she sweeps in like a storm of sunshine and glitter, her wide smile a balm to my busted-up soul. Even surrounded by her warmth, a cold chasm seems to take up space in my chest. I know deep down that she would never walk away from our friendship on purpose. But I also know how much harder it will be to see each other after today. Lachlan is Fionn’s brother. As much as I’ve come to love Lark and Sloane, I know it will be hard to stay close when doing so will only keep feeding the pain that’s already consuming me. My heart makes its bruises known with every beat. It begs me not to take another blow.