Chapter 3Vow of the Vane: Eight Years of Lies, One Lifetime of Power

"Don't scare Misty. We’ll talk about this at home," Preston said, reaching for his jacket, desperate to escape.

"Preston, do I even have a home anymore?"

His hand froze. He turned back, grabbing my arm to pull me out. Misty tried to follow, but Jax blocked her.

The hallway lights were dim. I couldn't even see Preston's face clearly anymore.

"Misty is young. Her only birthday wish was for a proposal. I had too much to drink, Claire. I wasn't thinking."

When I didn't reply, he pulled me into a hug. This was his routine—whenever I was mad, he’d use sweet words and physical affection to make it go away. And every time, I had forgiven him.

He breathed against my ear. "Babe, don't be mad."

He didn't realize that this time, there was no coming back.

"Fine. Come home with me right now."

"Okay! Let’s go home!"

He started pulling me toward the exit. Misty was standing right by the door. I knew she could hear us.

Three, two...

Thud!

The door flew open. Misty "collapsed" in the hallway. Preston was by her side in a heartbeat.

"Misty!"

"Preston, I'm okay... is Claire still mad?"

Misty grabbed a large bottle of 116-proof bourbon from a passing tray. "I’ll make it up to her."

She tilted her head back and began chugging the harsh liquor. She was willing to pay a high price to win back Preston’s attention.

"Misty, stop!" Preston wrenched the bottle away, looking devastated.

"Does she forgive me now?" Misty whimpered.

Preston whirled around and screamed at me. "Say something!"

The man who was just whispering "babe" in my ear was gone. The mask had slipped.

"I never blamed you," I said calmly.

Misty coughed, reaching a hand out toward me. "If you're not mad, can I have the necklace back? It was a gift from Preston."

I clutched my bag. "This is my mother’s heirloom."

"But it’s a gift from him..." Misty’s lip trembled. "I guess you still hate me."

She grabbed the bottle again. Preston went ballistic.

"Claire, give it to her!" He lunged for my bag.

"This belonged to my mother! Can't you see she’s doing this on purpose?"

Preston wouldn't listen. He fought me for the bag like a rabid dog. "Can't you stop being so cynical? Misty isn't like you!"

"She’s just a girl, Claire! Stop bullying her!"

He was too strong. I lost the tug-of-war. He ripped the bag away, and as Misty reached for it too, the necklace snagged.

The string snapped. Silver beads scattered everywhere, bouncing off the floor like rain.

I stared at the two beads left in my hand. Misty looked up at me, a tiny, triumphant smirk on her lips that only I could see.

"Claire, have you had enough?!" Preston roared.

He blamed me for everything. He saw through the world, but he couldn't see through her.

Maybe he realized he’d gone too far. He looked at the beads on the floor and reached out to touch my hair.

"I... I'm sorry. I drank too much."

"Tomorrow. I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow, okay?"

Misty started retching from the alcohol. Preston scooped her up and ran for the exit.

"Tomorrow at noon! I’ll take you shopping! I promise!"

He ran so fast the wind brushed past my face. I leaned against the wall and laughed.

What was the difference between me and those silver beads? A seemingly "whole" life, scattered into the dust in a single night.

I didn't want the necklace anymore. And I didn't want Preston.

I couldn't promise to forget him instantly, but I could promise he’d never find me again.

"Hello? Is this the airline? I need the next available flight to Charleston."