Page 75 of Craving Consequences

My fingers lift to her chin. Thumb brushes over her bottom lip.

I kiss her because she fucking loves me and she’s mine.

“Good.”

Her lashes flutter open when I pull back. Her throat works around a tight swallow. But she says nothing when I lift her into the truck.

On the opposite end of the bench, the other side of the car, standing in the open door of the driver’s side, Lachlan stares at me. The hurt and pain in the razor’s edge of his jaw isn’t aimed at me, but the quiet confession he must have heard.

I want to tell him it doesn’t have to be this hard. We can figure it out. We’re grown ass men fully capable of making shit happen. But I’m silenced by the scream of tires and the roar of an engine shatters the moment. A bright red flash rounds the corner at a speed that makes me think it’s being chased by zombies.

Bron’s Escalade jerks to a violent stop directly in front of us. The door flies open with a crack that makes me think assholes like him don’t deserve pretty things. The shithole himself hops down and storms towards the truck, his expression the dark smear of shit on sheets.

I hear Everly suck in a breath and it’s like something triggers in my head. Something I haven’t felt since leaving the army. A vicious humming between my ears that vibrates through the very marrow of my soul. A feral surge of protective energy that coils around the fingers I ball into fists.

Bron stops at the hood of the truck, looks Everly dead in the eyes through the windshield and bares his teeth.

“Out. Now!”

I shut my door, sealing her in. Keeping him out. He’ll have to kill me to get to her.

“Bron, calm down.” Lachlan closes his own door and moves to face his worthless son.

“I’ve been calling her all fucking day,” he roars, rounding on his father. “I have to hear from Bryan Markley that she’s here with you two?” His dark gaze sweeps over the storage units, lips curled back over clenched teeth. “What the fuck is this place?”

We all know he knows where we are even if he’s a broken crayon in a box of marbles.

“We’ve been getting things for the party this weekend. I told you she’d call you back,” Lachlan says.

Bron motions at Everly like she’s some errant dog he’s come to collect. “Well, you’re done. Let’s go.”

My knuckles pop at my sides, itching to beat all five points of rage into the fucker’s face, but I don’t. I let Lachlan take the lead. Let him deal with his mistake.

Everly’s right, he should have been swallowed.

“We still have other errands to run, unless you’re willing to take over.”

Bron’s eyes narrow like he’s being asked to shovel horse shit. “I don’t have time to run around. I have things to do and I need her to—”

“Go home. We’re nearly done. You can talk to her later.”

That is simply unacceptable in Bron’s world as he shakes his head. “Why is she being like this?” He faces the window and raises his voice. “Get the fuck out.”

“Hey.” Lachlan gets in front of him, blocking him from Everly. “Enough. You’re acting crazy. Go home.”

He doesn’t wait for Bron to respond. He barely looks at him when turning back to the truck.

Bron stays standing in the way and I hope Lachlan will run him over but know that’s wishful thinking.

Instead, I follow my friend and climb in next to Everly. Lachlan does the same on the other side and we watch the piece of shit simply stare at us through the window like he just can’t figure it out. His little rat brain is scrambling and it would have been comical, but I am not oblivious to the tension in Everly’s frame.

“Let’s go,” I tell the other man, who, thankfully, doesn’t argue.

He puts the truck into reverse. With Bron still watching, Lachlan pulls a U-turn and heads the opposite direction, following the longer loop back in the direction of the main gates.

“I should have talked to him,” Everly murmurs.

“Did you want to talk to him?” Lachlan asks.

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