Lovemaking. Shit. Was that what that was? It certainly had felt… different, than usual. Like there was more to it than just me pumping my dick inside her. There’d been an undercurrent I’d never felt before, one that threatened to rip me away, drown me in her. I didn’t have the words to describe it or give it a name. All I knew was that I’d never feel it again. Not with anyone. There was no one who could ever make me so desperate and wanting, yet so content and fulfilled… except for her.
One woman in all the world had that kind of power over me, and I’d let her down.
Shit. I was so fucked.
But I had to forget that now. I had to forget about Sarah and the things she’d made me feel, the things she’d made me want. I had to forget about the strawberry-blonde sheen of her hair. The haziness of her eyes when I touched her bare skin. The crushed velvet of her lips against mine. The silk of her thighs wrapped around my waist. The fire she stirred in my heart, in my soul, whenever I held her in my arms.
I had to forget the way she had believed in me, and the way she’d made me a better man. Because now that she was gone, it was time to return to who I’d been—even if who I was now hated that fucker more than anything in the world.
The question was… could I go back? Was I even capable of being that person anymore? My ego said yes, but my heart…
Well, Sarah had taken that with her. And part of it would always be hers.
Why did I have to fuck this up the same way I fucked up everything else? Why the hell had I let my pride get in the way of things again—only this time, it was something that actually mattered. Maybe the only thing that ever had or would. I wanted to go back in time and slap the shit out of myself for being such a fucking pussy that I couldn’t even say “no” to Ash when he’d proposed such an awful idea. And the worst part was that I couldn’t even blame him for roping me into this, because the truth was that I could’ve come clean with Sarah much sooner than I had—I was just too damn scared to.
Too scared to admit to myself that I had real, honest to God feelings for her.
Too scared to stop playing games and experience something genuine, for once.
Too scared to believe I was capable of anything other than using women for their bodies—or that I might want to have something deeper with them. That I might want to feel a connection that went beyond thrusting part of me into part of them.
I’d had all of that with Sarah. But fear had kept me from her. That was all a man’s ego was, in the end—a fear of intimacy, of being vulnerable. A weakness that preyed on our desire not to appear weak. An insidious paradox that led us into ruin.
Fuck, I couldn’t think about this anymore. It was tearing me apart. I had to get the hell out of here, away from these memories. They had teeth, and they were hungry.
I locked up and threw my shit into the backseat of the Shelby, then hopped into the driver’s side and peeled out of the long drive. I couldn’t get the hell away from that cabin fast enough, really, and never once did I glance back at it in my rearview mirror. If I was going to have any hope of recovery—either by forgetting Sarah, or somehow managing to get her back—I was going to have to leave that place behind. I couldn’t dwell on that mistake forever, or it would cripple me. I had to man up and think about the future.
I just hoped when it came to pass, Sarah would be in it. Somehow.
I raced past the trees, turning them into brown and green blurs on either side of me, smears of color that meant nothing compared to the road ahead. The Shelby jostled and rocked like a son of a bitch, but I knew she could take it. She was a powerhouse—one of the few things in my life I could rely on. She’d gotten me out of plenty of scrapes before, and was a comfort to me in ways I doubted anyone else would ever understand.
Well, maybe Ash did. That motorcycle of his was his baby—his only real inheritance from our father. The only thing he’d actually wanted, anyway. The rest of what had been handed down was all bullshit he could have lived without: an unfair sense of responsibility for our father’s sins; a target on his back where the police were concerned; and a bad reputation.
Thinking of him made me realize he’d never called me back. Fucker. I’d have to call him once I hit the highway. With terrain this rough, there was no way I could control the gear shift and the wheel with my cell phone cradled between my shoulder and ear.
It took about twenty minutes for me to finally merge onto a road that wasn’t made out of dirt. I took out my phone and was just about to hit redial when it started buzzing in my hand. Perfect fucking timing, I thought.
I answered and put the phone up to my ear without even looking at it. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”
“What the fuck, dude?” Ash hissed in my ear. In the background, I could hear meat sizzling on a grill. Where the fuck was he? “What the hell happened between you and Sarah?”
I frowned. “Don’t you listen to your voicemail? I left you one over an hour ago.”
Ash huffed. “I would have, but my phone’s fucked. This is Hannah’s.” Fair enough. I hadn’t bothered to check the number. “So you’re gonna have to tell me the story all over again: what the fuck, dude?”
I groaned. The last thing I wanted to do was rehash what a giant fuck-up I was right now. Especially for Ash’s benefit.
“She caught me leaving a message for you,” I told him. “About our bet.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Ash muttered. I could tell he was gritting his teeth. “You and that fucking bet. You just had to gloat, huh? Had to call and tell me that you’d won? Dammit, Reid—you just had to screw things up for the rest of us?!”
“Screw things up?” I snorted. “You were the one that came up with the idea of the bet in the first place, now you’re pissed that I won?”
“No, you idiot,” he growled. “The bet was never supposed to be real, and if it was, I technically won it before you even had a chance.”
That hit me like a punch to the gut. “What the hell do you mean, the bet was never real? We agreed to it—all three of us!”
“It was the only way I could think of to get you and Wyatt to talk to the girls,” Ash said, his voice strained. “I mean, shit, if you weren’t there, I could’ve just put Wyatt in their path, but… it was never about a fucking bet, man. Hell, if I knew how seriously you were gonna take this stupid thing… Anyway, whatever. The point is, it was just an excuse to get you guys close enough to keep them safe. That’s all we really wanted—”
“What the fuck, Ash?” And suddenly I was going way too fast as I cut him off, hurtling over uneven terrain at speeds that could easily prove lethal, even for me. I took a few breaths and let off the gas; a feat of willpower I just barely pulled off. None of this was making sense to me. “What the fuck are you even talking about, who is we? If there was something else going on, why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re an asshole,” Ash replied plainly. And shit… he wasn’t wrong. “I had to appeal to your ego. It’s the only way to ever get you to do anything.”
“Well fan-fucking-tastic job you did there, bro! That sure made everyone happy!”
“Right. Because I was supposed to know you’d blow it. Although, when you put it like that, I guess I should’ve seen it coming, huh?”
It took everything in me not to throw my phone straight through the windshield. I was still confused as hell, but I knew he was right about that, at least. “You don’t have to rub it in, asshole. I get it. I fucked up.”
“No, I’m not sure you do get it,” Ash began, but I cut him off again.
“Yeah, I really fucking do!” I snarled. “I ruined everything. I fucked up Sarah’s life. I fucked up my life. I made the only good thing I had going for me slip away, practically kicked her right out the fucking door, because I was way more interested in being an alpha douchebag than a human goddamn being. She looked at me like I hung the fucking moon in the sky, and I looked away. I spat on heaven because I was so used to being in hell, and you don’t just co
me back from that, Ash. That’s a sin you have to live with for the rest of your life.”
On the other end of the line, Ash was silent. No smart-ass remark. No confirmation that I was, in fact, right about everything, especially myself. I sped toward the exit ramp for Bright Falls, feeling like I was trying to outrun the hounds of hell, come to drag me down for what I’d done to such an angel.
Finally, as I turned off the highway, I said, “It’s not something I can fix. I get that, too. But the brotherly thing to do here would be not to rub that in my face, because I didn’t just screw up a stupid pretend bet. I screwed up that poor girl’s life—and my own.”
I knew I was asking for a lot. Hell, if it had happened to Ash, I probably wouldn’t have had any sympathy for him whatsoever. It was worth a shot, though. Right now I felt so low I was looking up to worms.
Ash said, “You sure you can’t fix it?” as I waited at the stoplight, the one that served as a literal crossroads for that decision. If I turned left, I’d be headed back to my apartment. If I turned right, I’d be headed to Hannah’s, where I assumed Ash was since he was calling me from her phone. And if he knew about Sarah, maybe she was there too. It stood to reason. Hannah had picked her up from the cabin, after all. I could be there in a few minutes.
Was there any point in showing up, though? What the hell could I say to her to set things right? I couldn’t think of a single damn word that might soften the blow of Sarah knowing we’d started off as a joke. Shit—would I have forgiven some chick if she’d done that to me?
“I dunno, man,” I said, staring at the red light in front of me. “I really don’t know…”
But then I heard shouting. And the decision was made for me.
“Either way, bro, you need to get over here,” Ash said. “Fast!”
“What the fuck?” I asked, but there was no answer. The line had gone dead.
Shit. Had something happened to Sarah?
Fuck. That had to be it. Why else would Ash tell me to get my ass over there? Why the urgency? And if I wasn’t mistaken, that had been Wyatt yelling in the background. Something like, Get the fuck away from her!
I didn’t know for sure if he meant Sarah or not—but if any of the girls were in danger, Ash was right. I needed to be there.
Now.
I hung a right at the light and floored it in the direction of Hannah’s apartment, weaving through traffic like a madman, using everything I knew about drag racing to close the distance between me and Sarah. My heart was pounding hard enough to rattle my ribs, and yet I felt calmer than I’d ever been. I knew what I needed to do.
For once, I had a clear purpose in my life. I knew exactly what I had to do. Where I had to be.
I had to be with Sarah.
The distance ticked by in the span of seconds, but it felt like hours. It felt like no matter how fast I went, I was going to be too late—that I wouldn’t arrive in time to save Sarah from whatever harm was about to come to her. I didn’t think she was in mortal danger, not with my brothers there, but I needed to show her I could save the day whenever she needed me to. I needed to show her I could be there for her when shit was going down.
By the time I parked at Hannah’s, my hands hurt from how tightly I’d been clutching the steering wheel. And by the time I was out of the car, just yards away from the rising smoke of an unattended community grill, I was seeing red. Because there, near the tree line, I could see Sarah with her arms around Beth, pulling her away from four muscle heads who looked like they’d been yanked straight out of some dark alley brimming with bad ideas. Typical thug bullshit—mean, dog-like faces; dirty nails, the undersides of some of them packed with old blood; and tattoos that snaked along their necks, their biceps, and their chests. One of them even had a tribal design hugging the outer crescent of his temple.
And another looked familiar. Devastatingly so.
That red veil before my eyes took on a darker hue. The one at the front of the pack—the one nearest Sarah—was the man who’d grabbed her back at the carnival.
What the fuck is he doing here?
In the back of my mind, I realized my instincts about him were right. He’d been trying to abduct Sarah. He’d been far more dangerous than I’d given him credit for. Whatever he was doing here now, it had to be part of a bigger picture—one that had made Hannah ask Ash for our protection, and had brought us all together to begin with.
What did she know? And how had we all ignored the potential for disaster in favor of a stupid fucking bet?
I didn’t have time to give myself any answers. Not now. Now wasn’t the time for talking, anyway. It was the time for beating motherfuckers into bloody pulps.
No. Not pulp. Red fucking mist.
As I neared the trees, I could hear Ash and Wyatt telling the thugs to fuck off. Hannah had grabbed Sarah’s arm and was pulling her and Beth back behind my brothers, but the guy who’d grabbed Sarah was advancing. Ash pushed him, hard, on the chest, and he pushed back. Wyatt was right there in his face, fists clenched, but I knew the two of them couldn’t take on four guys that size.
Three of us, however…
“The fuck is going on here?” I roared as I approached, nearly shoulder-checking Ash out of the way. “I know you, fuckface. You’re the bastard who grabbed Sarah at the carnival. Is this what you do, huh? Creep around, grabbin’ girls?” I put my face right in his. “You some kind of pervert?”
“I’m here on business,” Fuckface rasped, without even flinching at my proximity. “But what that is, is none of yours.”
“When it comes to my woman, you bein’ an asshole is definitely my business,” I replied, shoving him back. Dude was like a wall of pure muscle, but I tried not to let the effort I had to exert show. “The hell could you want with her? She’s Amish, for Christ’s sakes!”
He glowered. “I’m well aware of what, and who, she is. That’s why we’re here. And if you don’t get out of our way, we’re going to have to stop playing nice and make you.”
“Tough talk, coming from a man whose momma should’ve swallowed,” Wyatt chimed in, and I had to stifle a dark chuckle. “Beth—dial 911 on your phone.”
I raised a brow at him. Really? I thought he’d have wanted to handle this himself. But something in Wyatt’s eyes spoke volumes about how he really felt. He was angry, sure. But he was also scared. Did he know about the real reason Ash had gotten us involved with these girls? Did he know what was at stake better than I did?
From the corner of my eye, I saw Beth take out her phone, another cheap piece of shit like the one Hannah had given Sarah for our trip out into the woods. The moment she flipped it open, the guy in front lunged for her.
“You’re not calling anyone,” he snarled.
Ash grabbed the guy by the back of his shirt. “And you’re not fucking touching her.”
I don’t remember who threw the first punch. I’d love to say it was me. After all, that was what I’d come here for—to beat the ever-loving shit out of these fuckers.
But I honestly couldn’t tell you, because as soon as Ash grabbed Fuckface, the rest became a blur.
Sarah was screaming. Hannah was yelling at Ash to fucking stop, and Beth was a silent spectator, her blue eyes wide with fear and awe. Four of them against three of us—the odds might’ve been in their favor, were they not a bunch of thugs who obviously weren’t used to dealing with marks who fought back. Brodys were fucking warriors.
I grabbed one of the dudes with a shaved head and slammed his face into my knee until I heard his nose go crunch. It was more than enough to stun him, to make him vulnerable to the next swing I took at his jaw. Fucker wouldn’t go down, though. Not that easily.
I could have killed him. I could have killed all of them. Especially when I ended up with a busted lip and what very much felt like a broken nose for my trouble. I wanted to unleash the beast inside me on all of them, to plough through each and every one until there was nothing left but dust. For once, I understood the kind of fury that co
nsumed Wyatt so often… and part of me fucking loved it.
But I couldn’t let it win. Not with Sarah standing there, watching me. She was my muse of temperance, and I couldn’t betray her. Not even to save her.
I sure as hell could use necessary force, though.
Wyatt was like a demon from hell, wailing on two of the other bastards while Ash took on old Fuckface himself. As much of a monster as Wyatt was, though, Ash proved way worse. He definitely wasn’t pulling any punches, and even when Fuckface was on the ground, Ash refused to let up.
I watched him straddle the guy’s chest and start raining down punches. I heard cartilage shattering and teeth snapping free of Fuckface’s gums. I heard the wet gurgling noise of a man beginning to choke on his own blood. I realized then that Ash was taking things way too far.
“Dude,” I said, grabbing Ash’s shoulder. “That’s enough, man. Get off him.”
With a cry, Ash pushed me off him and brought down another blow onto Fuckface’s skull. I grabbed the back of Ash’s jacket and tried to ease him off again, but it was clear that I was going to have to use brute force, unless we wanted to end up with a dead body on our hands.
It took me and Wyatt to pull Ash free, and he was practically foaming at the mouth like a madman, kicking and flailing and trying to claw his way back to Fuckface, lying on the ground with what looked like a broken everything. It took a long series of minutes to get Ash to calm down enough to stop speaking in tongues and four-letter words again, and even longer than that to get the red out of his face and the murderous trembling out of his hands.
“We got ‘em,” I said as Ash paced, raking his bloody fingers through his hair. “All right, man? We got ‘em.”
“Yeah, Ash,” Wyatt said softly, holding up his hands. “Breathe, okay? Calm down.”
“I can’t,” Ash said at last, though his voice was still something of an inhuman growl. He turned and faced the carnage all three of us had left near the tree line. “I can’t fucking calm down while that piece of shit is still breathing.”
PRIDE: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch#1) Page 16