by Henry, Max
She still hasn’t seen the lengths I go to when pushed enough times. I’m trying real, real hard to be a good boy, but when I’ve got this bad girl sitting on top of me and taunting me the way she does… a guy could get caught up in the spell.
Lacey’s lips lift in a half-smile, and just when I think it would be the perfect time to push up and steal a kiss—a proper kiss—the absolute opposite happens.
She damn well starts to cry.
“Hey,” I soothe, hoping like hell it wasn’t something I said. “What’s going on, babe?”
The lonely tear tracks a path to the ridge of her jaw before it’s joined by another, chasing fast behind. “Shoot.” She grins, lifting both hands to press the backs to her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be.” I pin her to me, hands firm on her thighs. “Stay. Talk to me. Was it what I said? Am I putting too much pressure on?”
Her first sob erupts as some twisted, hiccupped laugh. “No more than anyone else.” The tears come faster.
“Share this shit.” I push myself up, keeping her on my lap. “Whatever cuts you up, share it. That’s what I’m here for.”
Christ—I only make her cry harder. What the fuck is the right thing to say here?
“I …” She forcibly removes my hands. “I can’t explain it. I just …” My girl stands, backing away. “You still deserve better than this. Than me.”
Fuck. “Lacey!”
With a limp wave of her hand, she bolts, booking it for the house. I flop back on the worn timber porch and stare up at the stars that peek around the roofline.
Everything I do, everything I say, I fuck it up.
A guy has to wonder if it’s even worth trying anymore.
GREER
Well, that wasn’t what I expected to happen. “What’s going on?”
Lacey tears through the hallway headed for Maggie’s room. “I need five, okay?”
“Uh, sure,” I mumble, not that she’s likely to hear.
The bedroom door closes—hard—leaving me back in the silence that I’m not sure I like so much. Rising from the plush armchair, I make my way toward the front door, which still sits half-open.
Tuck lies flat on his back, arms over his head while he stares up at the sky. The only sound aside from my steady breaths is the rhythmic grate of a horse tearing out grass.
“Hey, you.” Stepping carefully, I make my way around the side of him so he can see me. “Should I ask what happened?”
He rolls his head my way, and once more, I’m struck with how meaningful his gaze is. This guy can see right in you. It’s almost unnerving.
“Or I could not,” I offer, retreating to the house.
“Nah, sit.” He pushes up on his elbows, groans, and then gets himself situated with his back against the porch railing. “You probably know her best, right?”
I flinch. “Outside of her brother, maybe.”
He frowns. Not the answer he expected, then. “What am I doing wrong?”
“In regard to…?” Seriously. The guys out here are what teenage girls’ dreams are made of. How the hell could he be doing anything wrong?
“Everything.” He drops his head, hair falling forward into his eyes as he fidgets with the edge of his boot. “Every time I think I’m getting somewhere with her, she pulls away.”
God damn it. I don’t want to do this, but hell—he deserves to understand. “Has she told you about the affidavit Derek has asked her to sign?”
“Who’s Derek?” His head lifts, gaze narrowed on me.
I drop to my arse on the porch, back against the house opposite him. “Christian’s father. A lawyer. More to the point, the guy their mother is having an affair with.”
“Oh. Him?” Tuck leans forward, one elbow looped around his bent knee. “Yeah. I heard about that.”
“Colt figures if he takes the fall for everything, and I mean everything, that Lacey can get a clean slate and a good start into adult life.” I sigh, huffing my hair away from my face. “She won’t do it, though.” I lean to my left, checking up the vacant hallway. “She’d feel too guilty signing him into a jail sentence like that.”
Tuck sighs, the scratch of his boots on the wood indicating he shifts position. “What’s Colt taking responsibility for, exactly?”
“The damages he caused out here,” I answer, returning my focus to Tuck. “As well as the assaults that happened at Christian’s party.”
Tuck’s brow dips, his jaw hard. “Those fuckers beat the shit out of him though.”
“I know.” Don’t I bloody well know? “But he’ll claim it happened because he instigated it.”
“And what does he get out of this?” Tuck rushes out. “Because I can’t understand why he’d do that when there are plenty of witnesses who’ll back him up unless he gets something out of it.”
My throat thickens, and I take a moment before I answer. “He gets the satisfaction in knowing he’s done something good for his sister, who he loves above all else.”
Silence falls between us. Even the horses have gone quiet. I stare out at the dark, wondering how exactly my life went so off course that I ended up seated on the porch of some small-town house, spilling the truth to a guy I’ve met a handful of times.
I’m broken from my inward spiral when Tuck scoots his arse across the porch to sit beside me. He nudges one jean-clad knee into my bare one and smiles. “Thanks.”
“For what?” My head hits the weatherboards.
“Helping me understand.” He sighs out his nose. “At least I know it’s not anything I’m doing. Although.” He screws his face up. “She said she couldn’t do this. That I deserve better.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I groan. “Really?”
He nods.
“Leave it with me.” He tips his head back to watch me as I stand. “I’ll go talk to her. How about you at least go inside where it’s more comfortable while you wait for them to come back with Beau?”
He shakes his head, arm slung over one knee as he slouches against the house. “Nah. I’ll stay out here. Closer to the horses to keep an eye on Sally.”
“She’s a troublemaker, huh?”
He chuckles. “I seem to have a knack for getting myself mixed up with those types, right?”
“Lacey’s not trouble,” I say softly. “Just troubled.”
“Aren’t we all?”
I leave him to his night watch and step inside the house. The quiet strikes me once more, and it takes a moment for me to realise what’s so unsettling about it. I never took much notice of the constant buzz you get living in the city. There’s always something moving, happening, working: traffic, music, lights, or people talking as they walk past.
Out here there’s next to none of that. It’s peaceful, and peace isn’t a luxury I’m often afforded.
More money than most and I can’t even buy myself some quiet. How’s that for messed up, huh?
“Lace?” My knuckles rap softly against Maggie’s door. “Can I come in?”
The door swings open, and she settles a soft smile across her lips. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“No need. You wanted a few minutes, so I gave them to you. Least I can do.”
“I freaked out, Greer.” She settles on Maggie’s bed, seemingly where she’s been until now, propped up in a mountain of pillows and bedding. “He’s too damn good for me. Especially after how spoilt and selfish I’ve been.”
I chuckle, settling myself on the foot of the bed. “Hey. You can’t shake the way we’re taught to behave in a matter of days, or even months, hon.”
“Have we been taught this?” she asks, eyes narrowed. “Or am I just a bad person?”
“Lace,” I coo, reaching for her hand. “No. You’re not a bad person. No way.”
“How do you know that?” Her chin crumples. She’s at breaking point, and if I were to tell you honestly, I’d think she needs to let it come.
There’s only so long we can be strong before we have to get comfortable with
our vulnerability.
“Because if you were, would you have held off signing that bullshit for Derek? If you were so horrible, would you have stood up to Libby after what she did to Gayle? Would you be helping your dad run the house? Staying here right now to watch the place while Maggie and her mum sort out Beau?” I sigh, settling myself on my side next to her. “I could go on and on, hon, but I think you get the point.”
She smiles through her sniffles. “I do.”
“So, what the heck are you so afraid of when it comes to Tuck?”
She turns her head away, frowning a little while she thinks the question over. “I’m worried that one day he’ll wake up and realise that I’m not who he thinks I am.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just have this sinking feeling that something so good could never last.”
“Do you think that’s because of your mum?” I ask quietly.
“How do you mean?”
I scoot closer, tucking my head in against her arm. “You’ve grown up with her idea that you have to be perfect to be loved, right?”
Lacey nods.
“So, do you think that perhaps you have this unrealistic idea in your head that if you’re not perfect that you don’t deserve the love he wants to give you?”
“I guess,” she whispers. “Do you honestly think it’s that simple?”
“It’s not simple,” I clarify. “It’s a basic problem, sure, but it’ll be a hard one to undo.”
“But I can undo it, right?” Her hand clutches mine tight.
“If you want to badly enough.” I tip my head back to look up at her, copping a lock of her blonde hair to the face for my troubles. “Ugh.” I blow it away, making her giggle. “The first step, hon, is to accept what he wants to give you. He wouldn’t be fighting for you like this if he didn’t think you were worth it.”
“I don’t know if he is fighting anymore, though,” she mumbles.
“Bullshit.” I shunt myself upright. “He’s out there right now, wondering what the hell he did wrong.”
“He hasn’t done anything wrong,” she cries. “That’s just it. He’s so good to me, and I don’t know why.”
“Were you not listening to me?” I say, tossing my hands beside me. “He thinks you’re worth it.”
“What do I do?” Her question is so quiet I almost miss it.
I fall to the bed and groan. “You get off this bed, and then you go out there, and you tell Tuck what you just told me.”
She does the first part, sliding her legs off the mattress and then hesitating beside the bed. “If I do this, you have to do something for me.”
I lift my head, peering down my body at her. “What?”
“Call Colt and do the same.”
My head hits the mattress. “Ugh. Not fair.”
“It’s totally fair,” she says while laughing. “You’re telling me I need to grow some lady-balls and spill my guts to Tuck. The least you can do is the same.”
“What? Spill my guts to Tuck?” I tease, knowing it’ll rile her up.
“No,” she whines. “Tell Colt you’re scared to love him.”
I slowly pull myself to a seated position, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m not scared to love him, Lace.” She tips her head to one side and frowns. “I’m scared of what that love could do to me.”
COLT
“How was she?” Willow drops her bag at the end of my bed and then promptly makes herself comfortable on the floor.
“As stubborn as always.” I gesture to the chair in the corner of the room. “You are allowed to use the furniture.”
She grins and sweeps her long hair aside. “I like to spread out when I’m doing this kind of thing.”
“That phrase could be taken in multiple ways,” I tease.
All I get is a wry smile in return. “So.” She proceeds to unpack her backpack. “How long has your mum thought that we’re back together?”
“As long as I’ve needed her to so that she stays off my back.” I didn’t miss the tell-tale delay between Willow ringing the doorbell and then showing up at my bedroom door. All the time that my mother would have needed to grill the girl on how she is, and what’s up with us.
She can believe what she wants if it helps her sleep at night. Fuck knows, nothing else she does in her life lets her do that.
“What order do you want to do this in?”
“Do you think it matters?” I slide down the side of my bed to join her on the floor. “By the end of the night, they’ll all have one.”
The deadline has passed, and my stubborn sister hasn’t returned the signed affidavit to Derek. Which, as much as I hate it to, means I need to execute plan B.
“It matters,” Willow states matter-of-factly. “You want to hit the strongest first so that when they spread the word before the others receive theirs, the weakest are most anxious and ready to break.”
“You’re fucking evil,” I praise.
“Thank you.” She pauses in her work to smile sweetly.
“What do you think then? Richard first?”
“I would have said Christian.” Her eyes glint. “We have twice as much against him so we could hit him twice, perhaps? One at the start, and another at the end?”
“Solid.” I reach across and snag her notebook, flicking it open to the marked page. “Christian, and then Richard.” She’s listed everyone’s initials and then put checkmarks beside each. “What does this mean?”
“How many times they submitted.” Willow snags the book out of my hands. “I think Libby should come before Richard.”
“You don’t think she’ll worry more than him?”
I’m levelled with a hard stare. “Honestly? You were fucking her. You, of all people, should know how loose with her morals she is.”
She makes a fair argument. “Fine. Christian, Libby, and Richard.”
“And then I figure we do Arthur, Ingrid, and Greer.”
“Not Greer,” I snap.
She reels back—laptop perched on her folded legs—and fixes me with wide eyes. “Explain.”
“She’s not against us. Why include her?”
“Because if you don’t, then it’s like a bright, flashing sign detailing who’s behind this.”
“You don’t think they’d figure it out anyway?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs.
“Tell you what.” I reach behind me for my phone. “I’ll give her a heads up, tell her to pretend she got one too.”
“I thought she knew about this anyway?” Willow frowns. “She won’t realise you’re covering your tracks when she receives one anyway?”
“She does know about it,” I answer tersely. “But that doesn’t mean I need it rubbed in her face that she was weak and impressionable once.”
“Some of us still are.” Willow lifts an eyebrow before returning her focus to the laptop. “Christian first. Are we settled on the wording still?”
I nod, midway through a message to Greer. “I think so.”
“Last chance to back out of this.” Her manicured finger hovers over the keyboard.
“They’ve had more than their fair share of chances. Remind them they’re not invincible.”
She smacks the key with finality. “And it’s done.”
“How long do you think it’ll take before he replies?” This day has been a long time coming, and to say I’m not ridiculously proud of myself for it? Yeah—I’d be a fucking liar.
“Not long.” Her smile grows, eyes fixated on the screen. “He’s seen it.”
I shuffle across the soft carpet and lean on one hand to look over her shoulder.
She tilts the screen a little, so we can both watch Christian form his reply.
If you think I’m worried about this, you’ll need to try harder.
“Expected,” Willow grumbles. “He’s calling our bluff. Do you want to send another? I have seven from him.”
“Send the one that shows his car in the background.” I can�
��t look away from the computer, my impatience at her attaching the image worse than a kid up before dawn on Christmas day.
“We’re saving the duo for last, right?”
I nod, the thrill making my chest buzz as her fingers fly over the keyboard and then the trackpad. The image is sent.
His avatar slides down instantly.
This time, there’s no sign of a response. “We’ve got the arsehole.” I flick my hand at the laptop. “Do Libby now.”
I leave Willow to her mastery and retreat to my phone. Greer hasn’t seen the message I sent her yet, but I have no doubt she will before long. News of these threats will circulate through the Chosen like a venereal disease. Even someone on the outskirts like her will hear about it before the night is out; the arseholes will want to know how far the sickness has spread.
“Libby has responded.”
“What did she say?” I refrain from clapping my hands like a total loser.
I’m that fucking giddy about it all.
“She asked if I want an updated shot.”
Ugh. “She’ll worry more when she hears the others are involved. If they look dumb, it makes her look bad as well.”
“So vain,” Willow mutters, furiously working on what I assume is Richard’s message. “You know, if it weren’t for the fact I haven’t had my audition for the School of Dance yet, I wouldn’t care if people found out this is me.”
“Really?”
She nods, eyes on her laptop. “These jerks submitted this shit willingly. If they didn’t want it public domain, they never would have emailed the page.”
“Hey,” I warn, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t forget, I’m one of those jerks.”
“How could I?” She steals a look from the corner of her eye, smile wide. “One of my favourite shots.”
“That’s messed up, Willow. We broke up.”
“Am I not allowed to appreciate what you have after we’re no longer together?”
I sigh, relaxing on my back to recheck my phone. Yep. Sound is on. Call me desperate, but I want to know Greer is prepared for this before the shit hits the fan.
As though connected to me somehow, the damn woman’s name lights up my phone.