Page 177 of Craving Consequences

Smirking at the finger I flip him, he slams the door shut and stalks off into the murky dusk.

It takes me a second longer to suck in a breath and follow. The combined crunch of our boots echo through the silence. Without the rain, it’s a soft sigh of the wind in the trees and the gentle slosh of waves against the shore. It’s the kind of calm I can easily lose myself in. Can easily see myself building a home in.

With Everly ... and Van.

It dawns on me that maybe Van’s right. Maybe we can do this. Maybe we’re far enough away from Jefferson’s reach that we’ll be left alone.

Van’s boots stomp up the front steps and onto the porch. I follow. Lighter. Treading carefully.

He knocks without warning. The sound reverberates with violence through the night. Through my system. I jump and nearly hit him.

“Not so hard,” I snap. “You’ll scare her.”

It’s hard to see his expression, but I think he shoots me a raised eyebrow.

“I barely touched it,” he mutters, and I definitely hear the eyeroll.

I open my mouth to respond when we hear the light patter of feet.

“I have a rifle, and I will blow your brains out if you don’t get off my porch,” comes Everly’s firm, but pissed voice through the wood.

While immensely proud, I have to bite back my grin because I know she doesn’t.

“Open the door, baby,” Van says softly.

Silence.

It may have only lasted a heartbeat before we hear the click and clatter of bolts and chains coming undone, but it strains through me for what feels like an eternity before the door swings wide and she’s peering at us from the opening.

Her hair is down, a wild tangle of auburn floating like candy floss around her soft, bruised face. The single lit lamp glowing behind her casts a faint halo around her, painting her in shadows, but I don’t miss the sling strapped across her chest. The scrapes across her knees. The surprise in her eyes.

“How...?”

“I think we’ve proven you can’t run from us, little doe,” Van murmurs gently. “Let us in.”

She shuffles back without complaint and Van steps over the threshold. I follow, never taking my eyes off her face.

In the light, the swelling at her temple is unmistakable. The thick, black spot at her jaw pronounced. She’s wearing a long T-shirt, but I can only imagine all the other marks we can’t see.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my throat working extra hard around the dry patch.

She shifts and lowers her gaze. “Why are you here?”

My stomach muscles tighten as I realize I was right, she hadn’t wanted to see us anymore. That our time together had meant nothing but a passing amusement until she could be rid of us.

“We’re here because you left,” Van answers without missing a beat. “Because you were attacked and instead of coming to us, you ran.” He takes a slow, even breath. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?”

Everly flinches. Her tiny frame shrinks inward like she’s expecting a backhand. The gesture breaks something in me and I move without thinking.

I gather her up into my arms, careful not to hurt her as I hold her tight.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I whisper into the top of her head. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She doesn’t speak, but she’s not pulling away. That alone is a blessing I’m grateful for.

Gingerly, like she’s afraid it might be unwanted, she lifts her good hand. It slides around my waist and curls into the back of my shirt. Against my chest, her breath hitches once. Then again. The third is followed by the warmth of her tears bleeding through the fabric to burn my skin.

I say nothing but press her closer. I smooth a palm along her hair, brush a kiss to her temple. All the while, I thank the heavens she hasn’t pushed me away. That I have this tiny moment of grace.

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