Page 72 of The Way Back Home

I glance between the two men. “Is that true?”

Jude shakes his head and sighs. “It . . . it was a mistake.”

“A mistake that you repeated all summer long. A mistake that wound up—”

“I loved her too,” Jude snaps. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him close to losing his temper. “And she wasn’t exactly innocent in all this.”

“You were my goddamn best friend.”

“I think you need to leave,” I say to Jude. He frowns but opens his car door. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime,” he says, and there’s more than a hint of sarcasm to his tone. I’m thinking the doc isn’t much for self-preservation. He climbs in the car and speeds off down the drive, and I turn and face August.

“Where’s Bettina?”

“Upstairs, asleep.”

“And you’re not watching her?”

“Am I supposed to?”

I sigh. “Yes, you are. You’re sure as hell not supposed to be down here arguing with some guy who stole your girlfriend in high school.” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “God, men.”

“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

I just shake my head as I walk past, but he catches my arm. I seethe. “Let go of me.”

“I don’t want you seeing him.”

“You don’t get a say.” I attempt to wrench free, but he tightens his hold. “Take your hands off me, August.”

He frowns and glances down at his hand on my arm, as if he wasn’t aware of the punishing grip he has on me. “I’m sorry. I . . . shit, Liv. She was my everything.”

“And she chose someone else. It’s been, what, thirteen years?” I snap. “Get over it already.”

“Eight,” he says abruptly. “She was my fiancée. She was the reason I enlisted.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. I just . . . I don’t like seeing you with him. I don’t like him showing up on my property after we were—”

“You left me by the side of the road, August.” I turn and glare at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, yanking me back to him. “I panicked. She’s the only family I have left. I . . . I just keep screwing things up.”

“She’s not the only family you have left,” I snap. “Lay your hands on me like that again, and she will be. And I’m not your ex.”

“Liv—”

“Don’t.” I pull free and stalk inside, slamming the door behind me. I come face to face with Josiah. I’m so startled that for a beat my heart jackhammers about as if I’ve been caught doing the wrong thing. I press my hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

His eyes are dark and angry, focused solely on the man outside as if he could burn holes through the screen and raze August where he stands. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” I attempt to move by him and up the staircase, but he frowns and gently grabs my arm. The small gesture forces a lump into my throat that I can’t swallow down. Tears sting my eyes, and I exhale impatiently. Josiah looks like he doesn’t know whether to hug me or let me go. The choice is made for him when August opens the screen door.

“Liv,” he says quietly. I don’t look at him. I can’t. “I’m sorry.”

His broken timbre forces a sob from my chest, and I run upstairs and shut myself in the bathroom, leaning my weight against the heavy oak door as I sink to the floor and fall apart. It wasn’t the force with which he grabbed me, or the fact that he’d left me by the side of the road, really—because I’d expect nothing less when it came to Bettina, she would always be his first priority, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. What hurt most is the way Josiah looked at me, expecting me to demand more, expecting me to know how to fix this situation, and I was just as clueless as the broken seventeen-year-old boy staring back at me, maybe even more so.

I’ve fallen in love with August Cotton, but I don’t know how to fix him any more than I know how to leave.

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