Landon sat there, staring at me for a long time, before he got up without saying a word and stormed out of our bedroom. I was afraid of what he might do, so I quickly followed him down the stairs. Instead of heading to Dante’s room on the first floor, he walked out the front door of the packhouse.
“What the hell was that?” Dante asked as he approached me from behind.
“I told him,” I replied, still gazing out the open door.
“Clearly, he didn’t take it very well. What are we going to do about it?” Dante inquired. I closed the door and turned to face him.
“We’re not going to do anything. You’re going to go home and pretend we never met. You’re leaving tomorrow,” I insisted, walking back upstairs and closing the bedroom door behind me.
I regretted telling Landon the truth, but I knew I ha
