Page 113 of Craving Consequences

Vultures.

If Everly notices their attempts to gain her attention, she never shows it.

The total rings up and I pull out my wallet, beating Lach and Everly to it. Olive gives me a brief glance, lets me swipe my card, and wishes us a safe trip. Her gaze lingers on Everly as we head for the door with that same nonplussed expression, only I know she’s as rabid as the rest of them.

At the truck, Lachlan yanks open Everly’s door and lets her climb in on her own as he helps me load the bags into the backseat with all our duffels. She’s sitting slightly slumped with her head back against the seat when we join her. Her eyes are closed, but there are lines drawing down the corners of her mouth. Lips I ache to kiss but can’t when a million eyes are watching from the window of the grocery store. Waiting. Speculating. Already I wonder if we haven’t created even more chaos for her just by being with her. I can only imagine the wheels spinning over the sight we make getting into the truck with her and driving off into the woods.

The thought of Everly returning to a town chewing up the rumors and churning their own has my fingers fisting in my lap. It has me staring straight at the gawking faces making noattempt at discretion when watching Lachlan pull free of our parking spot. They’re barely blinking, like we were already caught fucking. Not that Everly’s ex showed up at her house at the crack of dawn and tried to beat her door down. Not that he’s currently sitting behind bars for his behavior. Their prey is Everly and why Bron did what he did and how it’s her fault.

Next to me, Everly is still. Her small face is fixed on the windshield like it’s any other day. I’m careful to keep a wide distance between us. Lachlan is doing the same on her other side. We’re giving them all the illusions that our feelings for the pintsized woman between us are platonic and neutral; I can’t even begin to imagine the implosion if they ever found out the truth.

I exhale and slump back against my seat.

“I’m sorry.”

The tiny murmur is nearly swallowed by the rumble of tires and pounding of rain, but it falls into the cabin with all its unnecessary weight.

Lachlan takes his gaze off the road for a second to slant Everly a glance. “For what?”

She inhales deeply. “Everything. I pulled you both into my mess.”

Out of the view of everyone but the road leading us out of that hellhole, I settle my hand lightly on her soft thigh.

“What did I tell you about that?”

She sighs and drops her head back against the seat. “I should have known better. Every time I ... the longer I let you stay in my orbit, the higher the chance I’ll suck you into my blackhole of death. I thought the night at the bar would be a one time thing. A stupid way to feel wanted. I thought it would end there, but ... it’s getting out of hand. I’m going to wreck your lives if I—”

“Stop it.” Lachlan presses his palm into her other knee. “Once this party is over and everything settles down, people will forget.”

To my surprise, she nods slightly, but doesn’t respond. She stays watching the road with a stillness in her expression that tickles my apprehension. I would give anything to hear the thoughts in her head, because I have a strong suspicion that I won’t like them.

Nevertheless, we all fall silent. An unspoken decision we make collectively as we pass through the painfully structured streets away from prying eyes.

It’s odd that there are three of us in the truck and yet none of us say a single word the entire way out of town. None of us even dare exchange glances just in case someone’s watching. It’s not until we hit the highway, Jefferson in our rearview, that Everly slips sideways straight into my side. Her head pillows on my shoulder. Her tiny frame cocooned in my coat.

I brush a kiss to her crown. My fingers flex on her thigh. She sighs and relaxes. Her arm coils through mine and she burrows in.

The rhythmic swish of the wipers is the only sound for several miles, a persistent squeak of rubber on glass moving in steady arcs as rain batters the roof like a thousand impatient fingers. The road is a little more than a winding snake threading through the wilderness, pitted with potholes and half swallowed puddles of mud.

The mounted phone on the dash has flashed twice with warning, alerts to turn back. But we’ve already made it this far.

I glance down at the head still resting on my shoulder, tired and content, and tighten my hold on her. I reposition her just enough to keep her from slipping forward and startling awake as she dozes.

I’ve never been to her family cabin, but Lauren has spoken about it so much and has taken so many pictures that I feel I would recognize it on sight. Still, I’m momentarily surprised by it when we take the bend and the trees unfold to expose its actual grandeur.

It sits alone, a sprawling Victorian hidden from the world. Painted a stubborn black that plays with the shadows creeping in from all sides. It holds three floors and a rolling span of lawn in a wide clearing broken only by a jagged row of stones cutting a path from the driveway up to the house.

It’s stunning and out of place. Not at all what I pictured when Everly was going on about floods and serial killers.

Lachlan puts the truck in park and kills the engine. The world exhales around us, leaving only the sound of wind through branches and the rhythmic patter of rain.

We sit there a beat, no one rushing to move. It’s just us, him and me with Everly’s soft breathing between us.

Three hours is a long time not to speak. The skin of my lips have fused together and my tongue is glued to the top of my mouth. I have to relax my jaw to answer when he finally breaks the silence.

“Let’s get her inside and bring in the stuff.”

As plans go, it’s a fairly rational one. I would prefer not to get soaked again, but there’s no other way around it.

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