The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 382

Petty paused, her steps slowing just before the sunlight spilled across the porch. General stopped at her side, while Jackson stood back in the shadow, inside the house where the light didn’t quite reach him. She turned, feeling her throat tighten a little.

"Jackson, why are you asking me that?"

He stepped closer, his voice even rougher than usual. "You don’t seem happy."

Just before Petty had come to The White Estate, Jackson had been in a car accident. The explosion had left scars on his face and damaged his vocal cords. He didn’t come home until a month after Petty arrived, and though doctors had repaired what they could, his voice had never recovered.

Petty gave his shoulder a quick, gentle pat and forced a light smile. "I’m not unhappy. Actually, since I stopped loving Franco, life feels a lot lighter."

"Are you sure?" Jackson looked at her closely.

"Let’s not get into it right now, okay? Hans’s car is here. I have to go."

"Will you come back, Petty?"

Come back to Misty Vale? Not a chance. She never wanted to set foot here again or have anything to do with Franco for the rest of her life. Even after two days and nights together on that island, her feelings hadn’t changed.

She just shook her head at Jackson’s hopeful look, didn’t say a word, and walked away from the main house.

Jackson watched as she climbed into the car, his gaze holding onto her until the vehicle vanished down the driveway. Only then did he turn away.

General trotted over, pressed close, and nudged Jackson’s leg with his nose. Jackson crouched to rub the dog’s head, absentminded and quiet.

In the car, Aaron was at the wheel. Hans and Petty sat in the back. Maybe because of his limited mobility, Hans had chosen a long, stretched car. The interior felt huge, and Petty noticed how far apart they sat. It was like there was a wall between them.

She glanced at Hans, whose eyes hadn’t left the window since she got in.

"An island."

Hans studied her for a second. She looked healthier, pinker, more alive than she had lately. Something about her seemed brighter, like she was finally breathing again.

"What’s his deal, anyway?" Hans’s voice was loaded with suspicion. "Was that supposed to be some romantic trip for two? A honeymoon? He really thinks he’s that important, huh?"

Petty remembered Franco’s promise that he just wanted her to be happy. She turned her gaze to the window. "I’d rather not talk about him."

Hans took her lead and didn’t press further. After a while, he spoke again. "Felton got released. He looks years older now, and his health’s shot. Guess the investigation wasn’t easy on him."

Felton—Harris’s father. Petty had always suspected Franco was behind Felton’s troubles. Hans had sent someone to check, and sure enough, it was Franco who’d pulled the strings.