Page 98 of Craving Consequences

I burst out laughing. “But I get it.” I sober slowly. “Seeing her with you doesn’t piss me off. I know it should. Two men with one woman is insane and unrealistic. It can’t possibly work. But seeing her loved and worshiped and protected by someone I trust and respect ... it doesn’t bother me.”

“Ditto,” he murmurs. “Which is why I think you should have her.”

I start as if he unexpectedly announced his plans to live in a pineapple under the sea. “What?”

“I can’t. I ... all I’ve wanted for five years is her.” His voice changes, gets quieter, but heavy with the weight of his thoughts. “Even when she was with Bron, I never stopped loving her and I don’t think I ever will, but reality is a different situation. Bron and I ... we’ve always been fucked. Since he was a kid, he’s looked at me like I’m the cause of everything wrong in his life. I tried to be his father. Failed every time. I can’t fail in this. If I go after her, I lose my son. Not maybe. Not possibly. It’s done. He won’t ever forgive me, and I don’t know if I can do that.”

I don’t tell him his kid’s a fucking psychopath. A stupid one with no common sense. He shouldn’t hinge his happiness on that little fuck face. That’s not my place. I’ve seen how hard Lachlan has tried to connect with Bron, but you can’t bond with a narcissist. They’re not capable of basic, human emotions.

“On the other hand, Everly won’t stay single for long. Not a chance. Half the male population of Jefferson will be at her door the minute the news spreads, and as hot as I’d look in orange, I know I can’t kill all of them.” It’s hard to tell if he’s bullshitting when he’s speaking with the careful deliberation of someone trying to disarm a nuclear power plant. “So, it has to beyou,” he concludes simply. Rationally. “I’d rather ... I want it to be you. And I promise I won’t interfere. I won’t touch her.”

I don’t know how to respond. I don’t even think there is a proper counter argument. How do I express the flaws in his logic without changing his mind? Because, yes, I want Everly to myself and him submitting her to me takes care of one problem. I don’t want to point out the key factors he seems to be missing, but goddamn it! How can I be selfish with my best friend when he’s being such a piece of shit martyr?

“She wanted you, Lach,” I mutter, trying — and possibly failing — to keep the grudge from my tone. “It was never Bron. She chose him because he was the next best thing.”

The calm in his features hardens with anger. “What’s your point, Van?”

“Can you sit and watch her in my arms without wanting her in yours? Will you still be my friend knowing I have her in my bed every night? I know I couldn’t if it were you. I know it would kill me—”

“Do you have a fucking point?” he snaps. “I’m giving her to you and you’re—”

“At what cost? Our friendship? Your heart and happiness? I get it. Thank you, but I can’t. Not just because I can’t hurt you like that, but it’ll kill me seeing her look at you, knowing she wants you. I will never have her whole heart, and I’ll always wonder if she regrets picking me.” I turn my gaze to thered mailbox at the corner of Willows Bend. “I love her. I love her so much it physically hurts when I see her. If I have her and lose her, I won’t recover.”

He says nothing and I’ve never been so grateful. I don’t think there’s anything left to say, except let the conversation die in the water because there is no conclusion. Not a plausible one. Not one where everyone wins.

“Well, we can’t both keep her,” he snaps. “So, either you take her or...”

I get it.

Or neither of us gets her. Some other asshole will. Someone like Bron who will hurt her. Who will want her to be like everyone else in Jefferson. Everly plays the part well, but that fire in her eyes is all her. No one else has that. The guy she finds will want her to conform and it’ll break her.

But if Lachlan is committed to keeping her at arm’s length and I know I’m not strong enough to live with the seed of doubt ... where did that leave us?

“I think this only works if it’s both of us,” I murmur. “I know it’ll kill you if I’m with her and you can’t have her, especially after yesterday. You’ll pull away and it’ll destroy our friendship. I can’t live with that.”

Silence fills the space left behind by my words. I hate them as much as he does, but there are no winners here.Someone will lose. At least I’ll still have my best friend even if my heart is shattered.

“You’re a fucking dick,” he grumbles under his breath as he turns the truck up Everly’s driveway.

Any response I may have had is silenced by the familiar, cherry red Escalade practically parked on the porch.

“What the fuck?” Lachlan stomps on the brakes. “That’s Bron’s truck.”

I don’t need to be told, nor do I wait for the truck to be put into park before I throw my door open and leap out into the downpour.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

VAN

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He’s at her door. Feet and fist flying, pounding into the wood with the unhinged madness of someone out of their mind. Even through the clap and rumble of the storm, his screams echo in the early hours of morning. The names he throws at the barricade, the threats he hurls into the storm set a lit match to my blood, igniting my fury to a blinding rage.

My boots slam into the wet concrete as I break into a sprint. The rain cuts sideways in sheets, soaking through my clothes in seconds, but it’s nothing compared to the white-hot burn under my skin.

I don’t stop to call out. Don’t hesitate. My hands find the soaked fabric of his hoodie, yank him back with enough force to lift him off his feet, and I throw him. He slips on the slick boards with a yelp and tumbles down the porch steps like the waste of space he is. He lands in a sprawl of limbs at the bottom.

Bron Shaw is nothing like his father.

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