Page 37 of Craving Consequences

EVERLY

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Lauren.

It’s hard trying to hurt someone who doesn’t care about anything. It was always something I deeply admired about her — her lack of bother.

She’s always been so resilient. A dominating force capable of withstanding whatever life threw at her.

The kind of person who can pull herself back up, dust herself off and return with a baseball bat.

She has never cared about the opinions of others.

Wouldn’t care now either even if I let it slip what she did and the town turned on her.

I could have her removed from her job, blacklisted from getting hired anywhere in Jefferson and possibly lose her apartment, but she’d still find a way to get back on her feet.

The unfortunate truth is, I don’t want to ruin her life.

I want to cut her the way she cut me. I want her to know she lost the one person in the world who would have died for her.

The one person who never judged her, never thought less of her.

The one person who was always in her corner.

That — in my opinion — is the worst kind of loss .

That and breaking her one, unforgivable rule — sleeping with Van.

“I can forgive anything, except a friend who goes behind my back and fucks my dad. That is not a friend. That’s an opportunist, a shady, sketchy bitch I can never trust. Immediate no. Immediate go to jail. Immediate dead to me.”

And because I loved her and losing her would devastate me, I obeyed. I stayed away from Van. I bottled my feelings and told myself no man is worth our friendship.

I let out a scoff in the silent darkness of my bedroom. The square of light from the window looms over me, counting the seconds I’ve lain here since getting dropped off almost two hours earlier; the square had been closer to the wall then.

I couldn’t sleep once the boys tucked me in and left. I thought it was my damp hair scrunched between my head and the pillow, but I know that’s not it.

I miss them.

I miss their strength and warmth. I miss the weight of them. Their scent.

After slipping into the shower with me, big, powerful hands brushing dirt and cum off my skin, leaves and twigs from my hair, they dressed me in one of my night tops.

Van reclaimed the top he’d pulled me into on the drive back.

Taking his scent with him when he and Lachlan tucked me in, kissed me and left .

Now, I’m watching a cube of light glide across the ceiling as dawn sharpens the horizon.

I did not sleep with Van to spite Lauren. Not entirely. I went to the bar because when I tried to think of the last time I felt safe and protected, it was them who came to mind. I went because I needed them to hold me together.

Hurting Lauren was a happy coincidence. An accidentally on purpose occurrence. It’s the deepest I can cut her that will actually hurt.

Things I never thought I would have to consider, but...

I push the sheets off and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress. I peer through the blinds at the neat row of houses sitting still and dark in the predawn.

When I was in high school, I joined the cross-country team after Mom’s insistence. She’d been on it and their team had traveled across Canada competing. Every morning for three years, I had to wake up before the sun to practice. I’d run for an hour before school.

I was not good.

Our team did not travel to compete. There were only three of us and we spent the majority of the time trying not to die.

It’s funny because I put my whole effort into escaping Lachlan and Van last night. I gave everything. I’m not surprised they caught me. I’m surprised by the quickness of it .

Amused, I hop down and pad to Mom’s vanity. I scoop up my phone, disconnect the charging card and head down to the kitchen.

I don’t think I’ve ever been a vindictive person. You really can’t be in a town like Jefferson where people will irritate you all the time. And I might not be a gossip mill, but I do know enough about everyone, thanks to my job that, I could be a super villain if I choose to be.

Moving like I was used thoroughly by two men, I waddle my way gingerly down the stairs. I start the coffee machine, toss back two aspirins and perch on a stool at the island with my purse in front of me.

The envelope Lachlan had given me is crushed beneath the weight of my smutty book. I hadn’t wanted to open it there in the truck, and forgot about it afterwards, but I open it now and stare at the numbers.

I wait to feel something. Elated, maybe. Relieved? It’s not everything he owes me but it’s a little more than half. Definitely more than I expected. It feels like a lot when all the numbers are put together on paper.

I lay it on the counter and take a photo with my banking app.

The sum will automatically get deposited without me having to visit the bank itself.

Efficient and easy. But I know Bron will get a notification in a day or so that money has been withdrawn from his account.

That gives me roughly two days to get everything in order.

My coffee machine chimes. I pour myself a cup, then take it and the check into the living room. I drop the letter on the coffee table. Myself on the sofa and watch the clock over the mantel while I wait.

It has to be timed to work.