Page 91 of Van Cort
“No,” Rhett answered, whilst keeping his eyes on his brother.
They followed in West’s wake, and Rhett helped her into the boat. West had already tossed his pack in and was waiting. His expression caused a chasm to open up in her stomach. He never looked like this, and worse, he always talked to her.
Rhett positioned himself next to the motor and pulled the cord to start the small motor, steering them out and towards the island.
This was meant to be time for them to enjoy themselves and to get away from the stress of waiting, but West just looked out across the lake and didn’t utter a single word. Lara’s chest was bursting to ask him what the matter was, because there was no way in hell there wasn’t a problem.
They arrived and moored the boat before taking the supplies up to the ramshackle old cabin.
Over the years, they’d made improvements to it. They’d left blankets, moved furniture in, and made it more liveable since they would spend the night. The old iron wood-burning stove kept the space nice and cosy. But no matter how familiar the cabin was, West looked like the world had just ended, and everyone was on edge because of it.
Lara dropped her bag onto the small chair stacked with pillows in the corner closest to the burner and watched Rhett move to the small kitchen area. He pulled out a bottle of liquor, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. She didn’t know why she was still disappointed when he did that. It had only gotten worseover the last year. But he was Rhett, and he did what he wanted. Damn the consequences.
He took another swig of the drink and came back into the room with them, the bottle still clutched in his hand, and knelt at the wood burner, tossing in some wood to load the bed, and then he struck a match to set it alight.
“Come on, West.” Rhett didn’t turn from watching the flames begin to flicker and climb over the wood, consuming it. And his voice was icy, like he was already pissed that he was in the dark about whatever had got West so concerned. “What’s he done?”
“Who says it’s him?” West mumbled.
“Because I know him. He’s the only one who can cause that much misery to either of us. I want to know.”
“You fucking don’t.”
“Don’t fight,” Lara cut in. “And we don’t keep secrets, West. Not between us.”
West lifted his head and stared at her, looking over to Rhett soon after. “I don’t want this. And if I can, I’ll fight it, but I don’t know how.”
“Fight what?” Rhett’s voice growled.
“He’s sending me to Stanford. That’s what he’s decided.”
Lara swung her head between them. “But… Van Corts go to Harvard. That’s all you’ve been telling me. That’s what all of this has been about.”
West didn’t answer. Neither did Rhett.
“West?” Fear laced through Lara’s voice as she put the pieces together.
Mr Van Cort was separating them. Intentionally.
He was going to separate them all.
Rhett stood up and hurled the bottle in his hand against the back wall. The pieces of glass cascaded down onto the floor, followed by the flow of liquid.
Suddenly, the cabin was too small, too confined for the three of them.
West and Rhett seemed to start an internal monologue between them, silently keeping Lara from their private conversation. Until West turned, wrenched the door open and marched back out into the chilled air.
“Wait here,” Rhett ordered.
Lara didn’t want to sit around and wait. This wasn’t something between the brothers. This was bad for them all.
“No.” She got up and followed him outside, where they both found West already heading for the small patch of woods behind the cabin.
“West, don’t. Wait. You can’t just leave us,” she called.
“Oh? It seems that’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snarled back, his tone full of sarcasm.
“Don’t. We stay together.”
