Page 189 of Craving Consequences

The deed is done. Bron is gone. He will never hurt another person. We saved his future victims from his terror. That should be enough.

“What if he comes back?”

Lauren considers my fear and dismisses it with a shrug. “What are the chances?” About fifty percent, I wager, but she’s still talking. “Even if he gets free of his binds and somehow finds his way out of the woods in the dark with a broken leg, he has no clothes. Plus, he’ll get arrested and go to jail.” She gives an unconcerned shrug. “He did not find his way out. I am sure of it. Not in the dark, naked in those temperatures with a busted knee. He’s definitely dead or will be soon.”

I sigh. “You’re probably right.”

“I am right.” She grins and slaps my knee lightly. “Now, let’s worry about one problem at a time, okay?” Without waiting, she slips off the side of the bed and turns to me. “Let’s go wash your face and brush your teeth.”

I don’t argue with her. My face feels itchy and raw from crying, and even I can’t stand the stench of my breath anymore.

In the washroom, I clean up the best I can with one arm. Lauren helps, but it’s an awkward task for both of us.

Complete, I return to the warmth of the bed, certain I’ll be spending a lot of time there if things go horribly.

“I’m going to go grab your ... men, and you’re going to tell them the possibly good news. Meanwhile, I’m going to make pancakes to celebrate.”

I say nothing as Lauren twirls on her heels and stalks to the door. It’s thrown open and we both jump at the sight of thetwo figures already standing on the other side, each leaning against an opposite wall. Waiting.

They push upright and move past Lauren before she even opens her mouth and stalk straight for me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

EVERLY

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They’re on me before I can even speak.

I’m dragged down on the bed with them taking their places on either side. Their heat and strength envelop me in a cocoon of safety. Of want and longing. They hold me like we’d been apart for hours rather than a few minutes. Their eyes sift over and through me in desperate sweeps like they’re checking for injuries, and where their eyes don’t reach, their hands drift over.

They are so engrossed in me, so caught in my wants and needs, I momentarily have no idea how I’m supposed to accept it. Bron never put me first for anything. After my parents died, it was just me. No one ever worried about me.

“Please talk to us, sweetheart.” Lachlan touches my face, strokes the same hand back over my hair. “You’re killing me.”

He’s so close, so anxious. His entire face is a mask of worry that only makes the knot in my stomach worse.

“What if you hate me after?” I whisper, heart lodging in my throat when he kisses the fears off my lips with a tenderness that only heightens my uncertainties.

“I don’t think you understand just how deeply in love I am with you, Everly. Not loving you isn’t even an option for me anymore.”

Even with his words a warm balm soothing the gash in my chest, I falter in my answer. I look up into their faces looming over mine, both mirroring expressions of concern and fear.

I hate that I’ve scared them.

I hate that I’m this person who can’t hold her shit together when it matters most. I try to justify my collapse, the unraveling of everything I’ve been trying to keep together the last week, and I feel weak. Defeated. Embarrassed. But oddly lighter. Like unloading the weight lifted the pressure on my shoulders.

Still, even through the new clarity, I’m not strong enough to withstand the loss of them if they turn away from me.

“I...” I begin, wishing they’d stop looking at me with such unblinking focus, like they’re just waiting for the chance to jump in and right all the wrongs in my life. “I made a mistake.”

Van skims a kiss to my brow. “That’s okay. We’ll fix it.”

“I don’t think you can,” I whisper, unable to stop my fingertips from ghosting the side of his stubbled face with my unwrapped hand. “It’s not something you can fix.”

He captures it, brings the knuckles to his lips without ever breaking eye contact.

“Try us,” Lachlan insists, “We’re very good with our hands.”

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