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“Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.”

Where was that thought process when I started? Hindsight truly is twenty-twenty. Still, again, I have zero remorse in my actions. I only regret the people I hurt.

Except Bron.

Fuck him.

I step into the doorway of my parent’s bedroom and stare at the bed. Stare at the rumpled sheets cast to the foot of the bed as if they’d woken up in a hurry to find me. I have to resist the urge to crawl up and bury myself in their lingering scent. In the prickling need to find my phone and call them, beg them to come over.

I will call them.

Not yet. But soon.

Once I’ve put distance between us, so I don’t have to see their faces when I tell them. Enough space that they can’t just show up at my door to stop me. I know I owe them more than that, but I also love them enough not to hurt them anymore. They’ll be angry, but they’ll understand. They’ll move on. They’ll forget about me.

It’s better this way.

Plus, I need to think. I need to process everything I’ve done and had done to me. I haven’t had a chance to really think about anything for a week. I keep throwing myself into crazy situations without a shred of forethought.

And I know if I stop and think, if I allow myself to ask what it is I truly want, I know my immediate want and need is them.

I would want them. I would beg and pray and wish for them. To have them. For them to be mine forever.

But I’m a realist. This isn’t one of my books. The girl doesn’t get both men in real life, not when it means having them could destroy them and I can never be that selfish.

So, it’s up to me to fix the mess I made, even if it means breaking my heart and theirs.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

VAN

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The call goes to voicemail.

I shouldn’t be annoyed, but who am I kidding? I’m pissed.

It’s been hours since Lach and I snuck out of Everly’s bed like a pair of criminals. Hours since the pintsized brat left us —again!— and vanished off the radar. I’m trying to tell myself she’s fine. Nothing ever happens in Jefferson that would cause concern, but ...it’s been hours!

“Where the fuck is she?” I snap to the man leaning against his kitchen counter, arms folded, glowering at the patio screen.

The phone makes a concerning clattering sound hitting the island between us.

I know he’s as oblivious as I am and equally annoyed.

He’s been quiet since that morning. Even when we did a cursory drive through town, hoping to spot her car, he’d kept his thoughts to himself.

I left him to it. We’re usually pretty open about our feelings with each other, but only when the other is ready to spillthem. He wasn’t and I respected that. Still, I already know it had to do with Everly. Do with the fact that she’d upped and vanished again. Or maybe about yesterday when I left my house in the wee hours of morning because I couldn’t sleep without Everly to find Lachlan already making his way down his own driveway.

It would have been comical if it wasn’t sad. We shouldn’t have to sneak around to be with the woman we love, we shouldn’t have to watch Everly’s heartbroken expression as we leave her. It isn’t anyone’s damn business what we do in the privacy of our homes, but damn if that’s going to change as long as we’re in Jefferson.

“Do you think she’s gone to the cabin alone?” I ask.

Lachlan opens his mouth to respond when a knock at the door has us both stiffening.

We’re both rushing to answer it, my heart frantic and excited at the prospect of it being Everly with her sweet smile and a very good reason why she’s had us worried all day.

Sheriff Brewer stands on the porch and my good feeling vanishes. It plummets to my feet as I stare at the law man.