Page 135 of Craving Consequences

The bright, cherry red Escalade parked in my driveway.

Bron.

The bile in my stomach churns at the thought of my son. It’s not guilt. Not this time. It’s irritation dosed heavily with disgust.

I may not have been a good dad. I failed him and Ashley a lot. But I did my best. I tried to be there for him every chance I could, but every attempt was met with hatred. Resentment and a deep loathing I realize now I can’t fix. It doesn’t matter how hard I fight to win him over.

But I’m done fighting. I’m done trying to appease a grown man behaving like a spoiled, entitled brat. Van’s right, I need to do what’s best for both of us, even if it’s the final nail in our coffin.

“Want me to come with?”

I shake my head, never slowing as I drive past to Van’s house. “I’ll grab you in ten,” I tell him. “I’m fine,” I add when he continues to stare at me. “Ten.”

He seems uncertain but hops out when I pull up at the end of his driveway. His hesitation is understandable, but he resigns with a short nod before shutting the door and stepping back.

With a wave, I pull out and head back to face my kid.

In my driveway, I kill the engine and sit for a second to just stare at the front of my own damn house. It’s been the same house my parents brought me to when I was sixteen. The same house I brought Bron and Ashley to. The same house I really saw Everly for the first time. A lot of shit happened between those walls. Lost my mom. Then my dad three years later. I lost my wife and kid. Held Everly for the first time through the night. So much good and bad. Still, it’s the sight of the red SUV darkening my driveway that has dread curdling in my gut.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t feel trepidation coming home or seeing my son. I shouldn’t want to turn around and leave. I get that I wasn’t the best father in theworld. That, maybe, I could have done better, but I did my best. I worked my ass off. I provided. I gave Bron everything he needed. I was there when Ashley decided having a grown kid around her house was cramping her dating life and kicked him out. I was there when he decided to become a real estate agent and needed money. I supported him with everything I possibly could without question or pushback.

And still it’s never been enough. It seems the more I do for him, the more he hates me and I just can’t do it anymore. Maybe it makes me weak for not putting my foot down sooner, but his actions at Everly’s house the day before was the final straw. I’m not doing this any more.

Resigned and needing to get this over with, I climb out and head inside.

The silence is infinite. It stretches into every corner, a tangible force I can almost taste — like copper pennies at the back of my throat. I swallow it as I ascend the stairs and pause at the landing.

Bron’s door is open.

That never happens, yet it’s cracked wide like a threat and all I can think of is Everly standing in the doorway, damp from the rain as she fell to her knees and sucked my cock. Took my cock. Rode me.

I have to shake memories of her wet heat enveloping me aside as I move to stand on the threshold.

He’s on his bed, arms folded on the pillow beneath his head, brown eyes fixed on the ceiling. It’s taking all my strength not to eye the rumpled sheets bunched beneath him. Sheets drenched in sweat and cum. Can he smell Everly? Because I can. I don’t know if it’s because my brain is full of her or if she’s actually in the air, but ... does he even know her scent?

“When did you get out?” I ask, needing to start somewhere.

His gaze on my face is razor blades cutting into flesh. “Why the fuck do you care? You just left me in there to rot.”

“You deserved it,” I remind him. “You can’t pull that shit and get away with it.”

“Get away with what? I did nothing wrong. She texted me. Told me to come over, but I’m the bad guy?”

“I saw you at her door, Bron.”

With a single kicking motion, he lunges off the mattress and stands facing me. “Why were you in my room?”

The question zaps every other thought out of my head.

“What?”

His arms fold over the worn green t-shirt. “Don’t lie.” He stabs a finger in the direction of the hockey bag I’d dropped when Everly distracted me. “I know you came in here.”

I try not to show my relief.

“I was. I was going to pack your stuff.”

His jaw works like he’s trying to chew down steel. “You were kicking me out?”

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