Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Isabella

I gasp, moving toward the man I love, only to be stopped by Anita, who pulls me backward, the cops growling when I try to get near Carter again.

“No,” I pant, confused and frustrated. “Wait, you can’t… Why are you—”

“Get back,” the agent sneers, shoving me backward where Anita tries to keep me docile, but it doesn’t work. Carter catches the movement, the agent barking at me again. “Stay back, or you’ll come along as well!”

Carter fights against the cuffs, moving to get into the agent’s face. He’s strong enough to get out of the officer”s hold, his hands still behind his back the whole time.

“You don’t yell at her,” he growls. “Or I’ll take my confession elsewhere.”

The agent rolls his eyes, stalking out of the house.

I rip out of Anita’s hands and throw my arms around Carter’s sides, clinging to his chest. My wrist brushes his shoulder, and I wince, but I don’t leave his chest, clinging to him too tightly for the police to peel me off him. Carter rests his cheek on the top of my head and breathes a sigh of relief into my scalp.

“I need to go with them, Bella.”

I shake my head, petrified to know that if he does leave the house now, I will never see him again.

“Dammit, what did you do, Carter?”

“I took down Frances,” he mumbles, the police finally ripping him off me. His eyes are sad and colder than normal, filled with dread that I know all too well. “I had to expose him before he won the election. I wasn’t going to let him cross me—no one crosses me.”

I nod, still stunned, while they walk him outside.

He rescued me from Jacob and William, and I feel obligated to protect him from this, but I don’t think I can. I launch myself out of the house, running toward him while he is being shoved into an SUV. Tristan catches me first, halting me from moving forward.

The police threaten to pull their pistols and tasers, but I don’t care! I can’t let him leave like this, not after everything we just went through. Not after the battles and the pain and all of the bullshit everyone has inflicted on us—he’s done this to himself… to us?

It’s not right, but I haven’t got a choice, wailing my sobs while Carter shakes his head and is finally shoved into one of the many cars with red and blue lights. I thrash in Tristan’s hold, my wrist aching more when I slap it against his chest.

I sob harder, watching the cars file out of the neighborhood and disappear out of sight. “No, no! Come back, dammit! Let me… let me go, Tristan. He… he can’t leave me like that!”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he breathes, refusing to let me go. “He has to do this, Bella. It’s the only way to take Frances down. He crossed us already. If he hadn’t given him up first, he could have killed Carter and gotten away with it.”

“No,” I sob, refusing to believe any of it if it includes taking him away from me. “It’s not right. It’s not… not fair, dammit!”

Sam kneels before me, sliding her arms around my hips and pulling me into an embrace. I give in, clinging back to her wholeheartedly, just happy to see she’s okay and alive, even if she’s sporting a large, dark bruise on her forehead.

“He has to do this, or Frances will walk free,” Sam musters through our suffocating hug. “Just trust him. It will work out; I know it will.”

I sulk in the front yard, feeling like it’s the last time I’ll ever lay eyes on Carter Blackthorne again.