Her Knotty List (MVP: Most Valuable Pack Book 4)

It’s sort of hard to see with fake eyelashes falling off your eyelids.

Every time I swipe at the massacre of mascara and tears, I come away with more lashes stuck to the back of my hand.

The snow isn’t helping, either. Driving in the rain is normal back home in Florida. But this? I can barely see anything, even with my brights on.

The heater’s at full blast, but my fingers still ache from the cold as my teeth chatter around sobs. It just keeps getting darker, too. And creepier.

A while ago, I sped up to get away from some headlights I thought might be tailing me and did the smartest thing I could think of—driving a little way up the road before pulling off into a rest stop and waiting for the shiny black SUV to pass. Since then, I haven’t seen anyone else.

I guess most people wouldn’t drive in this weather unless they had to.

Which, I do.

I had to get away from everyone who only pretended to like me. And Gunnar-freakin-Sinclair. And my brother, who will be even more furious with me once he finds out my trust fund is gone, and it’s all my fault.

At least, that’s what I’ll tell my parents whenever I finally get up the courage to check my phone.

I packed in a blind panic, throwing my iPhone into my suitcase without texting anyone or turning on the ringer. Then, I left a note so no one would think I’d been taken or murdered.

It’s fine. I’ll be home soon anyway. I’ve been driving for an hour. It shouldn’t be long before I’m far enough south for the weather to break up a bit. And by morning, I’ll be back in Florida.

Of course, once I get there, I won’t have anywhere to go. The Dunlap Pack made me give up my lease last month. All of my stuff is sitting in a storage unit, waiting for me to get back from my honeymoon.

Dang it. I totally should have stolen the tickets to Bora Bora. I could have taken Meg and Remi and Serena. Well, maybe not Meg, with the baby coming so soon. Or Remi, since her pack is in the middle of hockey season right now, and she has the twins. Plus, Serena’s baby is only like a month old…

A fresh ache squeezes my lungs.

I was ready—to be a wife, a pack omega. To be bonded and have babies. I wanted it so badly.

How did I screw all of this up?

We were scientifically matched. And they didn’t even like me.

What will I do now? I gave up my job because Rob hated me “bringing home germs from the kids.” I let my apartment go when William asked me to. I even dropped out of my church choir because Renee liked to sleep in on Sundays and I didn’t want to trouble anyone.

Stupid. I was so stupid.

And naive. And annoying. And covered in cellulite, apparently…

But mostly just too stupid to live—because a second later, I realize I’ve been driving uphill this whole time.

My rental car may not have fancy GPS or a touch screen, but it does have a meter to tell you how far above sea level you are. And I’m about a mile in the air right now.

I never say this.

But…

Shit.

My ridiculous brain instantly chimes in with its usual optimism. It’s okay. We’re okay. We’ll just call for help or figure out where we are and find a hotel for the night.

It’s probably safe. People around here are supposed to be nice, right? Southern hospitality? Is that a thing? It’s totally a thing. I’ll just grab my phone and⁠—

Slowly lifting my foot off the gas, I contort myself into a pretzel, trying to get the cell out of my bag without taking my eyes off the flurry of white flouncing in front of my windshield. When I finally grasp it and plop back down into the driver’s seat, a wash of relief rolls through me.

Just in time for my car to careen into a snow bank.