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“I’m sorry, Quinn,” I cry, but he clenches his jaw, not meeting my eyes.
His cold dismissal hurts, but we need to move.
“I love you,” I say, wiping away my tears. “I always will.” I turn my back to him, walking toward a smirking Phil.
I can hear Tristan drag his feet behind me, and I close my eyes as this reality cannot be mine. But it’s no one’s other than mine, and now Tristan’s, thanks to my selfish choice.
As we both reach the door, Phil suddenly steps in front of Tristan, and his Cheshire grin has warning bells sounding loudly in my head.
“How does it feel to be second best?” Phil chuckles, and Tristan growls, his fists clenching by his sides. “But I guess you’re accustomed to being second best.”
Tristan cocks an eyebrow while I feel like I’ve just swallowed a vial of acid.
“What are you talking about?” Tristan snarls, but I know.
I know that somehow, Phil knows.
And so does Quinn.
“Tristan, don’t listen to him!” I implore, standing between him and Phil as Quinn storms over, his face blemished in rage.
“Mia, your bastard friend here has every right to know that you chose his brother, his half brother over him. I mean, tough break that is.”
“What?” Tristan wheezes, taking a step back, his face paling to an ashen white.
“Half brother? What the fuck is he talking about?” he yells, looking at Quinn who stands by his side, his head lowered in humiliation.
“Holy shit. It’s…true?” he asks, his eyes widening in shock.
This day is on a repeat shit loop, and I close my eyes, wishing it would end.
“Quinn?” Tristan presses, his voice rising in panic. “Is it true?”
“Yes,” Quinn finally replies, meeting Tristan’s horror-struck face.
Before Quinn has time to explain himself, Phil slams his fist into Tristan’s chin, knocking him out cold as he drops to the ground with a nauseating thud.
“NO!” I sob, my eyes not believing yet another tragedy before them.
“Motherfucker!” Quinn roars, charging toward Phil, but the distinctive feel of a gun barrel being shoved into my back stops Quinn in his tracks.
“Get in the van,” Thomas snarls into my ear, and I recoil, sickened by his touch.
When I resist, Phil scolds, “You’re wasting time, Mia. Get. In.”
I hate that he’s right because as I look at Abi, who stands behind Quinn, I know Cynthia doesn’t have much time left.
“Fine,” I spit, turning around and pushing past Thomas as I get into the back of the van.
“Get in,” Phil commands, waving his gun toward Quinn.
“What? No!” I scream, trying to push past Thomas to claw out Phil’s eyes.
But Quinn nods, his jaw clenching as he steps over Tristan to get into the van.
Thomas pushes me back into the seat, and I fall as I’m caught off balance. But Quinn is beside me in an instant, steadying me with a firm hand.
We both watch as Phil slides the door shut with a big smirk, and Thomas climbs into the front, turning around and pointing the gun our way.
