The Blood that Binds (Thicker than Blood Book 3)

by Madeline Sheehan

  “Hey, watch it!”

  Dropping my hands, I found Ella stumbling backward over the dock. Holding her flask in hand, there was wet splashed over the front of her shirt.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, backing away.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she slurred. “I guess I can forgive you, what with your brother coming back from the dead and taking his girlfriend back an’ all.” She let out a nasty laugh. “I mean, I’m assuming they’re back together, right—that’s what that big, ridiculous scene at the gate was all about? And that’s why you’re out here pouting?”

  I went still, scowling at her. “Do you ever think about not speaking, and maybe shutting the fuck up for once?”

  “Nope,” she said, shrugging as she staggered. “Hey—you want some?” She shook her flask at me. “You look like you need it.”

  I stared at the flask, swallowing hard. At this point, what did it matter? What else did I have to lose? I’d already lost the only good thing I’d ever had—the only person who’d ever made me feel… somewhat normal.

  “You know what—fuck it.” Snatching the flask from her hand, I brought it to my mouth. As the liquor burned a hot path down my throat, leaving me sputtering and coughing. Ella started to laugh. “Aw, Logan’s a lightweight,” she mocked in a singsong voice.

  Glaring at her, I proceeded to down the remaining liquid, breathing fire through my next several breaths. It hit me quickly—a warm rush down the center of me that left me wanting more. I shook the empty flask. “Where’s the rest?”

  Ella’s lips split into an impish smile as her fingers beckoned me. “Follow me.”

  “He’s my… brother,” I muttered. “Of course I love him.”

  Seated around a small metal folding table inside Ella’s cabin, Ell and I passed a half empty bottle of scotch between us.

  “But you love Willow more, right?” Slumping forward, Ella drunkenly wagged her finger at me. “It’ssss okay, you can tell me. I will not tell a single, solitary person.”

  I tried to glare at her, managing only more or less a blurry-eyed squint. “I’m not telling… you… jack… fucking… shit.”

  “I knew these guys who were like brothers,” she said, grabbing hold of the bottle and slouching back in her seat. “Oliver and Anthony…” Taking a swig of scotch, she continued. “Oli and Ant…” She took another swig. “I loved Oli and Ant loved me and everything got… messy. Hey, that rhymed.” Snorting, Ella continued to drink until scotch was dribbling down her chin.

  “Ant?” I frowned at her. “Ant… from Everdeen?” I’d spoken to Lucas’s new friend only long enough to thank him for helping my brother. We’d been otherwise occupied evacuating their camp after that.

  “That’ssss him,” Ella said, again pointing her finger at me. “Dark eyes, dark hair, kinda looks like a bargain-basement Jason Momoa. You should stay away from him—he’s a bad guy.”

  “Huh.” I leaned back in my chair, gazing up at the ceiling, feeling warm and numb and without a care in the world. No wonder my father loved to drink—a couple of swigs and you could forget how to feel.

  Feeling a weight drop down over my legs, I startled upright. Ella was straddling my lap, pressing the bottle to my lips. “Drink up,” she laughed, pouring aimlessly and spilling it down the front of my shirt. “Oopsy-daisy.”

  Grabbing the bottle from her, I leaned my head back, taking a long swallow while Ella began wriggling on top of me. “Stop,” I growled, grabbing her hip and holding her still.

  “Why?” She giggled, grinding herself over my growing erection. “There’s no more girlfriend to worry about, right? And you obviously like it.”

  I did like it… sort of. In my warm, numbed state of existence, it certainly felt good. Only, the more aroused my body grew, the more my thoughts turned to Willow. Willow and… Lucas. Cursing, I resumed drinking until Ella snatched the bottle away and began guzzling what was left. Coughing through her laughter, she sent the empty bottle rolling across the table. “And that’s the last of the good stuff.” She turned back to me. “Now where were we?”

  Bleary-eyed and feeling sluggish, I blinked at her as her mouth came crashing against mine, kissing me with cold, thin lips that felt nothing like Willow’s. She continued to rock over my lap as her hands slipped beneath my shirt.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned. “You’re as hard as you look.”

  Batting her hands away, I turned from her mouth. “Get off me,” I muttered.

  Still laughing, Ella kissed me again, this time reaching for my belt.

  “Get the fuck off!” I shouted, a sliver of clarity sending me shoving to my feet. Ella hit the floor hard, sprawling backward in a laughing heap while I staggered forward, clutching at furniture.

  Blindly pushing past her door, I broke into a run, zigzagging drunkenly through the moonlit camp. Sickness swelling in my gut, I sagged against the nearest tree, collapsing at the base of it, heaving until I’d emptied my stomach onto the grass.

  Leaning back against the tree, I dragged a shaking hand across my mouth and squinted out across the spinning landscape. Whereas earlier, I’d felt warm and numb—now I only felt desolate. Desolate and desperate to see Willow. To know what she was doing right this second.

  Pushing myself up off the ground, I stumbled off in the direction of home. Passing one of the water pumps, I filled my hands and took long gulps to clear the taste of vomit from my mouth before taking off, stumbling once again. Reaching the cabin, I staggered noisily through the door.

  The small lamp between bunk beds glowed in the darkness, highlighting the cozy scene on Willow’s bed—Lucas sprawled on his back with Willow nestled against his side. Seeing them like this—cuddled together as if nothing had changed, as if Willow and I had never happened—felt ten times worse than I’d thought it would. Yet another blow to my already battered soul.

  While I stood there swaying in the center of the cabin, wishing it was me in bed beside her, Willow’s eyes opened. Lifting her head up, her mouth began to move, her lips forming silent words I couldn’t make out. Frowning, I shook my head, creeping closer until the floor creaked loudly beneath my feet. I went still as Lucas shifted in his sleep, tightening his grip around Willow and pulling her closer to him.

  Pulling her farther from me.

  Everything went black—as black as the dark, terrible part of me that wished Lucas had stayed dead.

  I ran from them, from the cabin and from the violent feelings churning within me. I didn’t have a clue where I was going; I only knew that I needed to put as much space as possible between me and my brother, and the woman we both loved.

  Willow

  Sitting up in bed, I scrubbed the sleep from my eyes, gazing across the room at Logan’s empty bed, the cyclone in my belly picking up speed and doubling in size.

  He’d staggered in here in the middle of the night, reeking of booze and looking several shades of miserable, running out before I’d had a chance to explain myself. I knew what it looked like—Lucas and I snuggled in bed together. Yet, we’d only spent the evening talking—catching each other up on our last several months apart… minus one very important detail on my part.

  Careful not to disturb Lucas, I climbed quietly out of bed and tiptoed across the room. Pulling one of Logan’s flannels from his top bunk, I slipped into it, wrapping it tightly around me and burying my nose in the collar. As his scent engulfed me, and I continued staring at his neatly made bed, wave after wave of crippling guilt and worry continued to wash over me.

  “‘Morning,” Lucas whispered against my ear. Shrieking, I spun around, shrieking again as he lifted me straight off my feet and planted a kiss on my lips. I froze against his mouth, quickly turning away as his tongue touched mine.

  The cabin door swung open, crashing into the wall. Logan stood on the threshold, his clothes covered in mud, dark circles ringing his eyes. Taking in the sight of Lucas and me clutching one another, his nostrils flared.

  “Bro,” Lucas said, setting me down. “Where we
re you last night?”

  Logan, his stormy gaze meeting mine for only one brief, horrible second, headed to his dresser. Stripping out of his mud-streaked shirt, he tossed it away. “I had stuff to do.”

  Lucas chuckled. “You had stuff to do? That’s code for a girl, right?”

  Pulling on a clean shirt, Logan muttered, “There’s no girl.”

  “Is it the girl with short brown hair?” Lucas teased.

  “There’s no fucking girl,” Logan growled, shoving past Lucas. The bathroom door slammed shut behind him.

  Lucas looked at me, grinning. “There’s definitely a girl, right? Why else would he be out all night?”

  I only stared and shrugged, my stomach still swirling with dread. I couldn’t even dream up a lie like that. Just thinking about Logan with someone else, my entire body vehemently rejected the very notion.

  “Come on, bro.” Lucas knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “Tell me who it is. It’s the blonde, right? It’s gotta be the blonde.”

  The door flew open; Logan, his jaw locked and ticcing, glared at Lucas. “I said, there’s no fucking girl. So would you please shut the fuck up about it?”

  The smile slipped from Lucas’s face. “It was just a joke,” he spat, his tone rising with anger. Straightening, he stepped closer to Logan, bringing them nose to nose, his light, chiseled features shrouded in dark discontent, his body simmering with rage. “So why the fuck are you getting so bent out of shape?”

  Logan looked just as startled as I felt. Lucas didn’t curse, and he definitely didn’t stand up to his big brother. For several seconds, I could only stare dumbly at the two men until Logan’s stunned expression shifted into a sneer.

  “All grown up now, huh?” Logan bit out.

  Lucas responded with a lift of his chin and a squaring of his shoulders.

  “Hey,” I said, shoving between them, grabbing hold of Lucas’s hand. “Remember how I wanted to introduce you to Britta today? We should get going before I have to be at work.”

  As I pulled Lucas from the cabin, he continued to glare over his shoulder. “Did you see him?” he demanded. “I thought he was going to fucking hit me.”

  No, I thought you were going to hit him, I wanted to say. Instead, I muttered, “He was a mess after you… disappeared. He was really angry at me. At the world. I think he’s still angry at… everything.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; although it could hardly be considered the truth, either. Not the whole truth, anyway.

  Lucas remained tense, his expression tight. Looking up at him, I couldn’t help but feel that the differences in my childhood friend went far deeper than a haircut and a shave and a couple of curse words. Who he’d been when he’d dropped out of sight many months ago wasn’t the same person that reemerged.

  We had all changed, though, hadn’t we? In the blink of an eye our trio had become a duo, and in Lucas’s case, he’d been forced to forge an entirely new way of living. It only made sense that he would change alongside his circumstances, and I certainly had no right to hold those changes against him—especially not after I’d developed such intense feelings for Logan in his absence.

  But, I wondered dismally, where did all these changes leave us?

  “Lucas,” Britta drawled. “So it’s true? The dead boyfriend returns—and here I thought Doc was just yankin’ my chain.”

  Britta, who lay in her hospital bed flipping through an old magazine, looked Lucas over with a grin. Each day she looked better than the last; in terms of healing, she still had a long road ahead of her, but her color had returned, as had the mischievous glint in her eye.

  “Not quite so dead after all,” Lucas replied dryly. “Britta, right? Willow told me all about you.”

  Britta looked at me, her brows peaked. “Did she now? A good an’ glowin’ review, I hope?”

  “Five stars,” Lucas replied with a chuckle, some of the earlier tension easing from his expression.

  “Only five? Did she mention I used to have two feet? Maybe you can tack on an extra star for all my troubles?” Britta made a face at me. “You didn’t bring me any breakfast, did ya now? What’s a girl gotta do to get some grub around here!” Britta shouted the last half of her sentence toward the door.

  “I swear to all that is holy and good in this world, Britta, you are the worst patient I have ever had!” Even from two rooms away, Doc’s irritation rang through loud and clear.

  “You’re driving her insane, aren’t you?” Shaking my head, I turned to leave. “I’ll go grab you something.”

  “No, wait.” Lucas stayed me with his hand on my arm. “I’ll go. I need to get the lay of the land if I’m going to live here, right? You stay with your friend.”

  “Are ya sure, sugar?” Britta purred, smiling coyly, and my gaze shot to hers, narrowing.

  “Yeah, it’s no problem,” Lucas said, bending down to give my forehead a quick kiss. “See you in a few.”

  Britta and I lapsed into silence, merely staring at one another until Lucas’s footsteps had faded, and the telltale click of the cabin door echoed, signaling his departure.

  “Lord Almighty, Willow!” Britta gaped at me. “Two good lookin’ brothers—both of ‘em hotter than a two-dollar pistol! How much hot can there be in one family? Couldn’t ya have left one for the rest of us, ya goddang greedy little man hog?”

  “Britta!” My laughter was sharp and abrupt as I clutched my stomach—laughter that quickly tapered into a sob. Sitting down hard in the chair beside the bed, I buried my face in my hands. “Oh my god, what am I going to do? Britta, I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

  “Oh-no, nu-uh. No way, Jose. There’ll be no more cryin’ at my bedside, sugar. If anyone’s gonna be gettin’ misty-eyed, it’s gonna be the woman without the foot. Definitely not the woman with two hot brothers and all her limbs.”

  My hands dropped from my face. “Did you really just say that to me?” I demanded. “I don’t have two of anything—I don’t even want two of anything! None of this was what I wanted!”

  Britta tilted her head to one side, studying me. “So what do ya want? Or, better yet, who do ya want… an’, more importantly, can I have the other one?”

  “Britta.”

  “Alright, alright, I’ll stop now. Time to be serious.”

  “Thank you.”

  A moment of silence passed before Britta cleared her throat and said, “But, seriously—sharin’ is carin’. Throw a girl a bone! Get it? A bone! Ya know, ‘cause I’m missin’ a few?”

  I made a concerted effort to avoid being alone with Lucas for the rest of the day, worried that he might try to kiss me again—a task that was easy enough when there was no shortage of work to be done in camp.

  We spent the first half of the morning at the store, helping Stuart sort through several boxes of books that had been recently scavenged from the Elkin’s Point library. The remainder of our morning was spent in the gardens, helping Cassie with the fall harvest, who was grateful to have Lucas’s help after Ella showed up for work several hours late and ended up falling asleep under an apple tree.

  “I’m going to be speaking to Leisel about her,” Cassie muttered, stepping over Ella’s legs. “Poor thing is going to drink herself to death one of these days.”

  By late afternoon, Cassie was shooing us from the potato beds, urging us to take showers before dinner. I showed Lucas to the bathhouse, introducing him to Jordy, and giving him a brief overview of the shower system.

  “You’re not gonna join me?” Lucas asked, the corner of his mouth quirking into a shy smile. My heart began to hammer—this was my Lucas, the sweet and gentle boy I’d grown up with. And even as I ached for Logan… I found myself recalling how much I’d loved this side of Lucas.

  A nervous smile trembled on my lips. “The water is really cold—you’ll see. I’m going to go home and get cleaned up—I’ll meet you at the dining hall, okay?”

  Without waiting for his reply, I hurried from the building, feeling awful. Whatever this was—whatever w
e were doing—it couldn’t continue. I couldn’t live like this; I couldn’t keep another secret from Lucas, especially not one as monumental as this. If the three of us were going to move forward, Logan and I would have to come clean.

  But first, I needed to summon the courage to do so.

  Dinner was brief and quiet. Logan remained noticeably absent while Lucas and I sat alone, and I avoided looking directly at the others in the dining hall, afraid of what I might find reflected in their gazes. With every breath, I felt the fist of condemnation beating on my chest. I didn’t need to see it on the faces of my friends as well.

  “It’s getting cold,” Lucas murmured, sliding his hand into mine. I gazed up at the dark sky, the days growing shorter as winter crept closer, and shivered inside my hoodie.

  “Hopefully Logan will stay gone tonight,” Lucas continued, tugging me closer. “And we can warm each other up without having to deal with his shit.” Lucas’s tone grew progressively sharper. “You’d think he’d be happy to see me, but he’s been a dick the whole time.”

  “He is happy to see you, he’s just… Logan,” I replied helplessly. “You know how he is.”

  “Yeah,” Lucas bit out. “And he’s even worse than he was before. And since when do you defend Logan?”

  “Since when do you curse?” I snapped suddenly. “And why are you so angry?”

  We both stopped in the middle of the path, looking at one another. I stared into the eyes I’d stared into a million times before, yet not really recognizing them anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” I hurried to say. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Lucas said. “Losing you guys really fucked me up. And I don’t know—I think seeing this place, seeing your house—I guess it kinda feels like you guys moved on without me.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. “Luke, we thought… we thought you were dead.”

  “I know. Fuck, I know.” Lucas scrubbed his hands down the sides of his face, sighing hard. “Look, forget it. It doesn’t matter. It is what it is, right?” He stepped closer, one of his hands coming to rest on my hip while the other cupped my face. “By the way, have I told you how amazing you look? Civilization really suits you, Willowby.”