His mouth was warm and soft as it opened against mine. I don’t know how Benji always managed to make each kiss feel like the first. I still got goose bumps and butterflies every time his lips touched mine. His tongue swept across mine and everything inside of me reacted. Even though I was scared and my world was falling apart, my body arched into his in response. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tasting and memorizing. And it was the most amazing thing I had ever felt in my life. I knew at that moment what was being taken away from me, because I would have been happy to stay in that moment, kissing him forever.
But that last few seconds was all I would get.
It ended when Jaxon shouted from the top of the falls. “Benji, it’s time to go! Where are you?”
We separated slowly and Benji took my face in his hands. He closed his eyes and touched his lips one last time to my forehead before turning away quickly. When he was almost out of view, I ran after him.
“Benji, wait.”
He turned back, his eyes shining. I threw myself into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist as I hugged his neck tightly. “I love you Benjamin Borelli and I always will. Even when my heart no longer beats, it will still be filled with love for you.” I traced the symbol for infinity on his chest, over his heart. “Yours for eternity.”
I didn’t look at his face. I didn’t want to know his reaction. I knew no matter what it was, it would hurt me. So before he had the chance to say anything, I slid down his body until my feet found ground. I whirled around and ran.
As quietly as possible, I slide out of bed and tiptoe out the door. Mom and Dad aren’t in their room. I go to check on Flynn. He’s still sleeping, but he’s on his side now instead of his stomach. He feels cool and his face is peaceful. I brush his dark hair back, wishing he would wake up so I’d know he’s definitely okay. “I need to talk to my dad, but I’ll be back,” I murmur, though I know he can’t hear me.
I search the house, but my parents are nowhere to be found. Panic grabs a hold of me, cutting off my air. Did those men come while I slept? Did they take my family? Hurt them?
“Dad?” I call quietly. “Mom?”
I move through the kitchen, checking the dining room again. “Mom? Dad?” There’s a lump clogging my throat by the time I make it back to the living room.
“Daddy!” I’m screaming now. Images of Flynn’s parents lying facedown in the barn flash across my vision, and I swear I can smell smoke, feel the heat of the fire. “MOM. DAD.”
There’s a shuffling, followed by a thud upstairs that sends me flying up the steps. Benji slams into me on his way down, and I feel my feet lift under me as I’m slammed back into the wall. His hands shoot out, long fingers sliding around my arms and keeping me from tumbling down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” He hisses the words as he tugs my arms, wedging me between his back and the wall.
“My parents. I can’t find them. Do you think…?” I can’t—I won’t say the words aloud.
“Jesus Christ, Briar. You scared the living shit out of me. Your parents are out in the field.” His body relaxes and his expression softens. “They’re fine.” With a sigh, his hands hover around me. “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to… I heard you scream and I thought…” He inhales deeply. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t find them and I assumed—ugh.” I wave him off. “I’m fine.”
“Come on,” he says, gesturing me to follow. I trail him to my room, my heart finally beginning to slow.
“I can’t believe Mom and Dad are out there working like nothing happened,” I say. They were friends with the Amos family. How can they go about their lives like everything’s normal?
“There’s still work to be done,” Benji says matter-of-factly. “Life needs to go on as normal or it’ll draw unwanted attention.”
My brows crinkle with frustration. “Corn can wait. We don’t even know if Flynn is going to be okay.”
“The bullet wound was clean, he’ll be fine. There’s nothing your parents can do for him. They might as well take care of the crops. It’s their livelihood.”
I glare at him. “When did you become so cold, Benji?”
“Cold?” He returns the look with a fierce determination that cools my insides.
“Yes. Flynn’s parents were murdered and you’re worried about my parents’ corn?”
He turns away from me, busying himself with something on the dresser. “There’s nothing anybody can do about that, either. We can’t bring them back.”
“What happened to you? Where did Benji go?”
He ignores my question, holding his hand out. “Here,” he says, trying to drop a pill into my hand.
“You are not seriously trying to drug me again.”
“It’s half the dose this time. I can tell you’re in pain. I’m sure I didn’t help matters when I ran into you.” He shakes his hand impatiently.
“No, thanks.” I cross my arms in front of me and it’s a lot harder than it sounds because I’m trying really hard not to make a face, but damn, it hurts like hell.
Benji looks at me intently, refusing to back down, his hand still extended. He leans close, his breath whispering against my neck. “Are you a masochist or a martyr?”
“Answer my question,” I rasp. “What happened to you?”
He steps back, pulling my arm out, and prying my fingers open. “I left,” he murmurs dryly as he folds the pain pill into my hand. I grip his fingers in mine, turning his hand over. He doesn’t try to pull away, but he looks at me curiously, his chest rising and falling quickly.
I find the scar on his finger, tracing my thumb over it, and hold it so he can see. “You came back.” His gaze locks onto mine, his eyes filled with an intensity that has me gravitating to him until we’re nearly touching. Our breaths are heavy, our chests rising and falling in sync. My skin is heated. This is all so familiar. I lean in, the desire to kiss him overwhelming.
Benji steps back suddenly. “Briar, you don’t know me. I’m not the same person I used to be.”
I sit on the bed heavily because my legs feel weak. “No, you’re not. I see that.” I narrow my eyes, shaking my head in confusion and trying to push past the embarrassment trying to consume me.
“How did you know what to do for Flynn?”
Benji glances at the door with longing on his face. He clears his throat. “I made friends with the right people. They taught me some things.” He thrusts a thumb over his shoulder. “I should go check on Flynn then I’m going to head home.” He shuffles toward the door as if he can’t get away from me fast enough. “You won’t be alone,” he adds. “I’ll send Jax over, and I’ll be next door if you need anything. Take the pain meds.” He shuts the door behind him and I chuck the stupid pill at the wall.
~*~
Dust motes fill the air as I yank the blanket from the curtain rod and fold it. I make the bed next, carefully tugging the corners of my pink and green quilt until I’m certain there are no more creases. As I go from room to room gathering laundry, it occurs to me I’m acting like my mom.
Shit. When did that happen?
I peek in on Flynn as I pass and he shifts in the bed. I drop the basket and rush to his side. “Flynn?”
He gazes up at me, eyes full of confusion. All my previous anger—if it ever even was anger I felt—is gone, replaced with only concern. He makes a noise, as if he’s trying to talk and moan at the same time.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” I soothe. “You were hurt. Do you remember?”
He tries to push himself up, but his arms, even as strong as he is, can’t support his weight. He slides back to the bed heavily. “My dad,” he croaks.
I don’t want to be doing this. Benji said I wouldn’t be alone, but nobody else is here yet. Damn him. “You were…shot.”
“Shot. They shot me.” He doesn’t say it like a question, but I answer him anyway.
“Yes.” I take his hand. He flinches at first then grips me tightly.
“
I don’t remember. It’s all so blurry. All I can remember is my dad on his knees…” He shakes his head. “Briar, my dad. Did they…?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I’m so sorry, Flynn.”
A loud sob rips through his chest before he starts coughing. And then he can’t stop. His back convulses violently. The bandage beneath his shoulder blade is filling quickly with blood.
“Flynn?” I don’t know how to help him. I yank my hand out of his bone-crushing grasp and run as fast as I can down the stairs and out the door, holding my palm against my ribs. I bang on Benji’s door, kicking it and screaming.
“BENJI.”
I get the screen open just as Jax opens the front door. “Get Benji, now. It’s Flynn,” I pant. But Benji is already there, stomping down the stairs and shooting past me.
Jaxon and I follow. I fall behind because my side hurts so much it feels like I can’t breathe. By the time I make it into the guest room, Flynn is sitting up, huddled over a trashcan, and throwing up stomach bile. Benji presses a towel to his back and reassures him in a soothing voice.
“You just ripped a couple of stitches. No big deal. I know it’s hard right now, but I need you to try to calm down. Take slow, deep breaths, like this.” Benji inhales deeply through his nose and blows out gradually through his mouth. Flynn tries, but he retches again, a dark-yellow fluid.
He shoos me back with the hand not hugging the trashcan. “Get her—” He vomits more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Out of here.” Dry heaves. “I don’t want her to see—” Heaves again.
My eyes feel like saucers on my face, my mouth gaping. Fear anchors me in place.
“Jax,” Benji shouts, tipping his head in my direction.
Jax steps in front of me, lifts me into his arms, and before anything registers in my brain, I’m standing in the hallway, looking at a white door. I bend down gingerly and scoop up the laundry. My body is numb. I’m a robot, performing task, after task, just because it needs to be done.
I wash all the dirty dishes in the sink. Wipe the counters and table. Sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Straighten the living room. I think I fluff pillows at some point. None of it matters. I’m just filling time. Wasting time.
I move back upstairs, walking quickly past the guest room. It’s quiet now, and that should be comforting, but it scares me. I brush my teeth and wash my face. Comb my hair and attempt a braid.
The screen door squeaks open and bangs shut. “Bri? You home?”
I scramble down the steps, meeting Kameron at the bottom. Her eyes are wide, filled with unshed tears. I have no idea what to say to her, so I throw myself against her and inhale her sweet, apple scent.
“Briar, oh, my God. Have you heard about Flynn?”
I lose it. All the smothering fear swoops in with icy claws, tearing at all my resolve, and a dam bursts. “They’re dead. They killed them. Murdered them,” I cry. Kameron’s body goes absolutely still for several seconds before it begins shaking profusely.
“I know. Shit. I know. The cops are going house to house.” She pulls back, her face searching mine. “Where are your parents?”
I wipe at my face. It’s a wet mess of snot and tears. “Cropping,” I rasp.
The floor creaks above us and we both look up to see Jax on the landing. “He wants you,” he says. I look from him to Kam and back again. “Go ahead,” he says. “I’ll tell her everything.”
Kameron pulls me back as I try to walk away. Her eyes are full of question. I hug her once more and whisper, “I have to go. I’ll be back.”
Flynn is still sitting up, his hair wet with sweat. I offer the best smile I can, but I know it’s weak. He opens his arms to me and I climb on the bed. I hesitate, afraid of hurting him, but he jerks me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me tightly, and hurting me instead. I gasp and Benji shifts in my peripheral vision.
Flynn doesn’t say anything, so I don’t either. I just hug him, grateful he’s alive. His hand runs the length of my hair in a comforting gesture. I cannot believe he’s trying to calm me. Shouldn’t I be doing that for him?
I lift my head just enough to look at Benji and am surprised to meet his eyes. “Is he going to be okay?”
Benji bobs his head at the same time Flynn says, “I’m all right now. I’m sorry I scared you.”
I pull back and study his face. He’s apologizing to me? I shake my head. “Flynn—”
“I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” he interrupts flatly. Benji nods almost imperceptibly. And now I notice how stiff his body language is, like he’s pissed.
“It’s fine. You were upset, and rightly so. I’m so sorry, Flynn.” I feel the tears stinging my eyes and take a breath, willing them away. It isn’t my loss and I don’t want to upset Flynn again.
Kameron hovers just outside the doorway, noticeably shaken, Jaxon right behind her. “Knock, knock,” she calls. I can tell she’s trying to be upbeat, but I can’t imagine it’ll do any good.
With Jax and Kam as a distraction, I slide off the bed, and catch Benji’s eye. “Can I talk to you for a second?” I don’t give him a chance to respond, walking straight out the door. He follows immediately. Once we’re inside the privacy of my room, I shut the door, and try to decide how to word what I want to ask.
I gaze at him and whatever I was about to say disappears. Benji sinks to my bed, his face red, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. His eyes are glossy and his arms twitch as he leans back.
I dart to his side. “What is wrong with you?”
16
Benji
What’s wrong with me?
What’s wrong with me.
I don’t know how to answer that.
Do I tell her how consumed with guilt I am over what happened to Flynn and his family?
Or how I’m terrified it will happen to her?
Or maybe I should explain that while she slept last night, her dad told me that as soon as Flynn was well enough to travel, I needed to leave and take Jax and Flynn with me.
Do I tell her that as much as it hurt, I completely understood it, and somehow managed to respect Corbin even more for his brutal protectiveness of his daughter.
I could share with her how my heart feels like it’s being crushed from just the thought of leaving her again.
Or that I’m pissed off because I have to go again. I just want to stay here, with her, living a normal life. I’m pissed off she had to tell Flynn about his parents. I’m pissed off Flynn scared her. I’m pissed off he has to be here, in this condition.
I could always confess that the reason I took off this morning, leaving her here by herself was because I needed a fix. My entire body begged for it. So I left her here and went home where my ex-girlfriend was lying in my childhood bed, and I swallowed down pills.
There are so many things I could say. Want to say. Need to say.
Too many things.
So I don’t say anything at all.
I just close my eyes, take a deep breath, and prepare myself to walk away. Again.
17
Briar
“Benji?” I lay my hand against his cheek. His eyes pop open and he brushes away my touch. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to go,” he husks.
“No,” I state firmly. “You need to stay and tell me what’s wrong with you. The truth. What’s going on?”
He watches me for a long moment, the air in the room thickening with tension. “Can you close the blinds?” He shades his eyes with the palm of his hand as if the light is too bright.
I fight with the blanket, attempting to get it hung up the way he had it before. I hear Benji groan lightly, and then his arms are on either side of me. His chest presses into my back as he pulls the makeshift curtain into place. The heat from his body warms me, but goose bumps prickle my skin, and I shudder. I want to melt against him like I used to do.
I turn around, placing us front to front, and look up at him. Although it’s now dark, this close I can see a
difference in him. His features are soft. Open.
He backs away from me and I flip on my bedside lamp. He looks scared. And something else I can’t quite identify. Guilty maybe?
His eyes are darker…or the pupils are dilated? I consider myself a fairly intelligent person, and even though I know there is a very obvious answer to the question I’m not asking, I cannot seem to get there.
Benji is still staring at me, watching my face closely. I can’t remember seeing him look like this before. So…unsure and insecure. I stride closer to him and he shifts away. I attempt once again to latch on to what my brain is refusing to acknowledge.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. His glassy eyes open widely, observing me as I move slowly, but deliberately until I’m close enough to touch him again.
He shakes his head. “Nothing’s okay, Briar.”
I slip my hands onto his solid arms, sliding them up to his broad shoulders. His skin is slick with sweat, but goose bumps erupt along his flesh, the same as mine did. His stance is rigid as he gazes silently at me. God, it feels so good to touch him again. He’s a lot bigger than me, stronger. He can push me away, brush off my touch like he did before, but this time he doesn’t.
“Talk to me. What’s happening with you?”
And this is where he pulls away, sliding sideways against the wall. “I’m detoxing.”
“What?” I heard him, even though it was barely more than a whisper. But I can’t believe it.
He buries his fingers in his hair, tugging on the ends. “I’ve been weaning myself since I got home. I’m trying… I’m fucking trying to clean up, but it’s so fucking hard.” His voice cracks and it has a direct effect on my heart.
“What are you detoxing from?” I ask, careful to keep my voice from quivering.
He laughs bitterly. “You don’t want details.”
What does that mean? I close my eyes and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and trying to maintain my composure. “What are you detoxing from, Benji?” I repeat, my voice so sharp it could cut glass.
He stares at me, pinning me in place with his golden gaze. His fingers squeeze into tight fists and I notice how badly his hands are shaking. “Just tell me, please,” I murmur softly.
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