Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1)

by Cat Mason

  The bell over the door jingles overhead and just as Lynsey rounds the corner with her usual greeting, she stops short, glaring at me. “I thought I told you not to come in today.”

  “Lynsey, I have to work,” I mutter, pleading with her to let me stay.

  “And I have to sell shit to stay open,” she counters. Placing her hands on her hips, she watches me carefully, trying to mask the concern in her gaze. “You can’t work until you have a grip on yourself, babe. No one wants to buy rubber cocks and anal plugs from a deteriorating chick who looks like she’s about to break down and cry at the drop of a hat because she lost her guys.”

  “I’m not going to lose it,” I lie. After Dixon’s text I’m surprised I’m not already hysterical.

  “Bullshit. Customers will take one look at you and think that the toys you’re using aren’t working and they will leave because they’ll think my stock is defective. I can’t have you breaking my business, Kennedy. We’re Batteries Not Included, not SadVag Inc. Go do something productive to getting better.”

  “I can’t go anywhere that I haven’t been with one or both of them. I just need something that will occupy my mind enough to not think for a few hours.”

  Lynsey begins to mutter to herself while grabbing her keys and purse. “Not sleeping. Not eating. This shit is going to stop one way or another. Three weeks of this shit is way too much” Leaning into me when she gets close, she hugs me tightly before telling me to work out back for a while then rushes out the door, letting it slam behind her.

  I want to let my mind wonder what she’s leaving to do, but it’s probably not a good idea. The things that Lynsey is willing to do sometimes scares me, and I’m not even sure she’s leaving because of me, so I really don’t want to know. Instead of wondering, I wander out back and find something to do that will keep me occupied for a while.

  Dixon

  My phone goes off for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Like every other time since I watched Kennedy walk out of this room with my heart dragging behind her, and even more so since Gunnar came in here and started throwing punches, I ignore it. It’s probably Kennedy asking me why I felt the need to crush her again. Why couldn’t I leave it alone? Sooner or later she would have been fine, and I would be back to functioning like myself again. Fucking women like the heartless asshole I am.

  I hate that I can’t even talk to Gunnar about this because he’d know exactly what I need to do to get over her. Except I’m the reason Gunnar is in the same heartbreaking situation as I am. Instead of pushing down all the feelings I have for Kennedy like I always have, and putting my friendship with Gunnar first, I let myself fall and hope that I could have what they had, but with the same woman.

  Kennedy’s not mine, no matter how much I want her to be. She never has been. The truth is, even if I wasn’t friends with Gunnar and their marriage fell apart on its own, and we tried this, she still wouldn’t fully be mine. There’s a part of her that loves him no matter what happens between them. It’s a part that is bigger than both of us, and it can’t be changed. As much as I want this, as much as I’ve always wanted this, it would never work right because of her feelings for him.

  I can put on the tough show, tell people I don’t have a heart, and roll through women like you wouldn’t believe, but all of it is a front. I’ve only ever wanted one woman, but I’ve never been the only one she’s wanted. I was shocked when she let me touch her, and continued to be floored every time she asked for more. I took advantage of the situation, but I couldn’t get enough once I got my hands on her. The only woman I have ever loved finally saw me and no matter how shady it was, I needed her. I’d have given her anything she asked for without hesitation. For once it felt like everything in my fucked up life was right for whatever amount of time I got with her. I’d give anything to get that back, but I won’t hurt anyone any more than I already have. This is on me and I’ll gladly live in my hell forever, if that means she and Gunnar can get back to a place they can be happy.

  Giving up when my phone goes off again, I grab it, shooting out of bed when I see Lynsey’s name filling my notifications. The only thing I can think of is something happened to Kennedy and I’ve been sitting here ignoring it. Not even bothering to read the texts, I select her contact icon and hit dial as fast as I can make my fingers go.

  “Lyn, what’s wrong?” I ask the second she answers.

  “Have you even read the messages I sent you? Of course not,” she answers herself sarcastically. “I need to talk to you, emergency meeting me at my house right now.”

  Without waiting for me to answer, she hangs up. That’s the thing about Lynsey, she expects to get her way, and it doesn’t matter how you feel about the situation as long as she does. The only reason I get off my bed is because of the word emergency. I’m not on call, but I let the guys know I’m leaving anyway. I think they’ve seen more of me in the past few weeks than ever before, but I can’t seem to get myself to go home. There’s nothing but silence waiting for me. Not even the hope of hearing her giggle, or hell, moan my name.

  Jumping into my truck, I slam it into drive and speed as fast as I can across town to Lynsey’s house. I barely get it into park and shut off before I jump out and take her stairs two at a time until I can bang my fist against the door. Pulling it back, Lynsey looks me up and down before shoving a beer at me. That’s a first, usually she’s stealing the fuckers from me so now I’m even more worried than I was.

  “Awesome, you look like shit too.”

  Too? “Who else looks like shit?”

  Stepping to the side, she ignores my question and waves me in. As soon as I’m through the entryway I know exactly why she ignored me but almost don’t care because the scent of Kennedy surrounds me. It kills me because all I want to do is seek out the source and bury my face in it but I can’t.

  “What the fuck, Lynsey?” Gunnar roars. “Did you really think that this was a good fuckin’ idea?”

  Standing up, Gunnar glares at me and I half expect him to slam his fist into my jaw again. Like before, I’d stand here and let him do it as many times as he wanted to, because that’s the least I deserve. I know if the situation was reversed I’d do a hell of a lot worse.

  Lynsey, stepping between us, makes him stop before he can get close enough to bruise me up again. “Sit down and shut the fuck up.”

  “Why the fuck would you bring the one person on the entire planet that I wish would rot in Hell here?”

  “I. Said. Sit. Down. I have some things to say to you both.” For a few more seconds, Gunnar stands there staring at her. Finally he caves and finds a seat as far away from the one I choose as possible. “Notice anything?” she asks.

  We both look at each other, trying to figure out something that she sees that we don’t. Other than the fact that Gunnar looks like shit, everything seems to be the same. We both shake our heads.

  “OK, stubborn asses. You both look like shit and I think it has something to do with the person that’s missing from the room.” Turning to face Gunnar, she shrugs. “So you hate him now? You’re going to let this fuck up decades of friendship?”

  “He fucked my wife, Lyn. How the hell would you feel?”

  “Do you hate me too?” she asks, ignoring his question.

  “Did you fuck my wife too, Lynsey? Is there somethin’ I should know?”

  I keep my mouth shut, waiting to see what she’s going to say. Lynsey is the first person to insert herself into a situation when she’s asked to, but usually likes to stay out of the drama of relationships, so I need to know why she’s doing this.

  Lynsey shrugs. “Would it matter? If I told you I loved her. That I couldn’t breathe without knowing I could touch her, because I could give her something you can’t… would you hate me?”

  “If you made my wife fall out of love with me, yes, I would hate you.”

  “She didn’t stop lovin’ you at all,” I mumble, earning me a death glare from across the room. “And she damn sure doesn’t
love you any less either.”

  “If you hate them, Gunnar, hate me too because I knew. I encouraged it.”

  Shoving out of the chair, Gunnar crowds Lynsey. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d stand up and insert myself between them because he looks like he’s going to hit her, but we all know he won’t. He’ll save that for me.

  “Why the fuck would you do that?” he yells.

  Calm as usual, Lynsey continues. “Because she was confused, Gunnar. This mistake happened and she realized that everything she couldn’t get you to see that she needed, she didn’t have to ask for with him. And then it stopped being because she was curious to see if it was just because she was drunk, and it became something that she needed and it made her smile. Instead of stressing about trying to get you to let loose, she was happy because she had the best of the both of you. Because she was the best version of herself when she had the love of both of you.”

  “That’s supposed to make this better?

  “No, but you should see that you aren’t the only one hurting because of everything going on. My best friend, your wife, the woman you love, is falling apart. If you guys think you look like shit, you should see her because I want to cry every time I look at her.” She pushes Gunnar back into his chair before turning to me. “You love her?”

  “I’ve already talked to Gunnar about this.”

  “OK… well now you’re talking to me. Do you love Kennedy?”

  “It’s not a new revelation, Lynsey. I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember.”

  “But you broke it off. You broke her heart, and your own in the process. Why the fuck would you do that to someone you love?”

  Dropping my eyes to my hands, I hold my breath to compose myself before looking up and meeting Gunnar’s infuriated stare. “Because he’s my best friend. I love him too. I never set out to hurt you, Gunnar.”

  He ignores me, but Lynsey keeps rambling. “If you both love her like you say you do, you’ll figure this shit out, because watching her fall apart isn’t fun for me. She isn’t eating, she’s not sleeping and she’s slowly losing more of herself every day because she doesn’t have you guys. None of you are happy right now. Just looking at you I can tell that, and you need to figure out how to fix it.”

  “What the fuck do you expect, Lyn?” Gunnar bites out. “Everything isn’t gonna magically be better overnight!”

  “No shit. Quit yellin’ at me, asshole, I’m trying to talk. Love isn’t black and white. There’s no right way and wrong way to love someone, as long as you love them with everything you have in you. It’s not something you can define. It doesn’t have to be one way or the other, guys.” I try to decipher what the hell she is rambling on about, and when the hell she became the expert on love, when she stands up and wipes her eyes. “You’re adults, pull your panties out of your ass and be grown ass men. Figure your shit out because I’m not going to stand for losing either of you assholes, and neither of you would survive without each other, or Kennedy. Don’t throw your hearts and decades of friendship and love down the drain when you know there are ways to work it out for all three of you.”

  Without another word she storms from the room, sniffling as she wipes her eyes again and yells that she loves us no matter what. I’ve never seen her anything but controlled, and never have I ever seen her tear up. It just goes to show how serious the situation is for all of us, not just Kennedy, Gunnar and myself.

  “Was Lynsey cryin’? Or was I seein’ things?” Gunnar asks. I look around the room, thinking I missed someone walking in because he can’t be talking to me, but we’re alone.

  “I think hell just froze over.” After staring at Gunnar for what seems like a lifetime, I finally break and open my mouth again. “So we’re all miserable. I can’t go home, Kennedy’s been stayin’ here, and you’re at Mark’s. Nothin’ is gonna get better if we keep avoidin’ each other.”

  “So what do we do?” he finally asks. There’s a hesitation in his voice that I’ve never heard come from him before. A hesitation that makes me nervous but I push that feeling down and stand up. Pulling my keys from my pocket, they jingle by my side as I think. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I look back up at him.

  “No fuckin’ clue, man, but it’s gonna take me more than this one beer to figure it out.”

  A few hours later the table we acquired is littered with empty bottles and shot glasses that we keep attempting to stack into a pyramid. As drunk as we are we keep knocking the damn things down, but neither of us care anymore. Once the alcohol started to hit, and things finally didn’t feel so forced, we were able to talk out most of the important things before losing sight of everything because we got intoxicated.

  Gunnar grabs the fresh shot in front of him and tips it back into his mouth. He coughs, choking a little as he tries to swallow. When he finally gets it down, he slams the glass against the table. Everything rattles and the stacked empty glasses tumble again.

  “Well, shit.” For a second he stares at the mess in front of him completely seriously, almost like he’s about to cry because he watched them fall without trying to stop them. Suddenly, he drops his head to the table and cracks up. I, in turn, can’t help but laugh right along with him and we get so loud that everyone at the bar turns to look at us. When he finally sits up, he drops his head back against the wall and sighs. “I miss my wife, Dix. I miss her so fuckin’ much.”

  “I know.” I nod. “She not the only one I miss though, Gunnar. I don’t like the shit goin’ on between us.”

  “You sure you love her?” he finally asks. “You can’t, I don’t know… forget you have feelings for my wife?”

  I laugh, letting the alcohol flow through me so I don’t clam up. “I’ve loved her since before I even knew what it meant. I don’t see that feeling goin’ anywhere. Sorry.”

  I wait for him to flip out on me because up until a little while ago, probably shot number five, he was still pissed off. Part of me wonders if he’s being so calm because he’s starting to see that I never really meant to hurt him, or if he’s waiting for his chance to kill me off without being considered a suspect.

  “Can’t really blame you,” he finally says. “She’s easy to love.”

  “So what now?”

  He shrugs. “I guess we rehash our idea some more when we’re sober and then talk to her and see if it’s somethin’ that she wants to try. If it works, it works. If not, at least we can say we tried.”

  “Guess Lyn was right when she said there was no right or wrong way to do this.”

  Tipping the bottle back to his lips he shakes his head. “Don’t ever fuckin’ tell her she was right. It’ll go to her head. But I swear if it gets me my wife back, and we’re happy again, I’ll kiss that bitch’s strap-on.”

  Tucking my feet behind me, I shift until I can rest my head on Lynsey’s thigh. Without me having to even ask, she begins to run her fingers through my hair. It has been the only thing to calm my racing mind and put me to sleep in the time that I’ve been here, and thankfully she doesn’t complain even though it’s not even five yet. I think she likes the control she has over my body by doing it, but it also keeps her from worrying about me not sleeping at all. When I finally close my eyes, feeling sleep starting to drag me under, my phone goes off. Instead of reaching for it I keep my eyes closed and let Lynsey read it. It keeps me from getting my hopes up only to be let down when it isn’t a message that I want.

  “Two fuckin’ weeks later. It’s about damn time,” she mumbles, confusing me. “Wake up, bitch.”

  “I feel no love from you,” I mutter into her thigh. “You should be nicer to me and my broken heart.”

  Using her thumb, she touches my eyelid and lifts it so I can see the screen of my phone. As soon as my eyes focus I grab my phone and sit up, rereading the text from Gunnar again and again. My stomach twists, anxiousness and excitement rolling through me at the same time.

  “What do I do?” I finally ask her.

  The smile on her
face is comforting even though she’s shaking her head at me like I’m an idiot. “That text is from your husband and it’s asking you to come home so you guys can talk. It’s better than silence, isn’t it?”

  “Anything is better than the silence I’ve been getting.”

  I don’t waste any time pulling my shoes on and grabbing my keys before I’m in the car and on the road. It either takes longer than it should for me to get from Lynsey’s house to ours, or my nerves are completely shot. Either way, by the time I pull into the driveway and reach for the handle on the front door, I feel like I’m going to be sick. Not exactly the feeling I want to be having while trying to save my marriage.

  The last thing I expect when I open the door and step in is to find Gunnar and Dixon sitting in the living room on the couch. Neither one of them speak as I make my way into the room and ease down into the chair across from them quietly. Both guys wear their best poker faces, keeping me from knowing anything that happens to be going through their minds right now. The silence in the room is deafening and when Gunnar pushes himself to the edge of the couch so he can rest his elbows on his knees, my heart leaps into my throat.

  “Do you love me, Kennedy?” Since I can’t seem to speak, I nod. “You love him too though, right?” Pulling my eyes away from Gunnar’s, I seek out Dixon’s and find him already watching me. I can’t tell if he’s silently begging me to say yes, or hoping I say no so he doesn’t hurt Gunnar anymore, but I can’t lie. I nod, never looking away from Dixon. Out of the corner of my eye I watch Gunnar sigh and flex his hands.

  Shoving off the couch, Gunnar drops down on his knees in front of me. He slides between my legs, sliding his hands up my thighs and I breathe a bit easier with his hands on me. “Still love me?” I ask, barely able to hear my own voice.

  “Kennedy, I tried like hell to stop lovin’ you these past few weeks. I did everything short of fuckin’ you out of my system. I tried to hate you so it wouldn’t matter. But all I felt was my heart breakin’ more every time I opened my eyes and you weren’t there. So when Lynsey talked to us, and I finally calmed down enough to talk to Dixon, we could only figure out one way for this to end well for all of us.”