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Chapter 8

Brett POV

I crouch down and pick Willow up bridal style.

“Where to miss?” I ask her, a joke we’ve always shared from one of her favourite films.

“Maybe for some fresh air please Brett.”

I nod and carry her out of the marquee. I sit her down on an outdoor rattan sofa chair and gently pull her head down to inspect her wound.

“Fuck, it’s bleeding pretty bad.” I say panicking, she should be healing by now.

“It’s okay, I came prepared.” She pulls out some antiseptic cleaning wipes and cotton pads to clean her wound.

I pick up the wipes and cotton pads to clean her wound.

“Now, how would you know to bring these. It’s almost as if you knew this was going to happen.”

She shrugs her shoulders.

I bend down looking her in the eyes.

“Willow, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” She replies in a way that tugs at my heart.

“Do you see things before they happen? It’s almost like you knew Jeremy was going to find his mate at midnight, and you knew it was Lizzie didn’t you?”

She tilts her head looking a
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