Page 122 of Second Sets Omnibus

Silence rests in the night air around me when I pull the Tahoe out of the parking lot of River's apartment complex and drive toward home. Looking down, I spy his response and risk texting and driving.

Van

We can talk. When?

Me

Now. I'll be there in twenty.

Nerves eat away at me the closer I get to my damnation. There's no going back. The moment I open my mouth, I can't take it back.

As I get closer to my destination, the world passes by in a blur. I'm so lost in my guilt that I don't register when I pull up in front of Van's house, or he gets into the passenger's side, slamming the door hard.

“What do you mean to get your girl back?” he asks with slight desperation ringing in his voice.

Fuck. This might be easier than I initially thought. From what I have planned, Van will be an intricate part I can't afford to lose.

“Exactly what I said,” I grumble, throwing the car into park and keeping in the shadows. Callum's house may be a block away, but there's no way they'll see me from here. “So, do you want her eating out of the palm of your hand again? Or what?” Disgust burrows in my gut at my own damn words. What in the fuck am I doing? I close my eyes. It's what I have to do. But fuck. River's mom just died. She's in goddamn grieving, and here I am, plotting behind her back.

Images of River float through my mind. Me behind her, pounding her hips against the table. Her moans will forever live on a shrine in the back of my mind. Nothing will erase them. Not even the hate she'll feel for me, in the end, could erase our intricate past. But as far as I'm concerned, in another week, we'll never hear from her again. We'll be too far away in California, living our dream. And she’ll be here, living hers.

“What's in it for you?” Van rightfully asks with suspicion.

“Her away from them. Us in California. Take your pick.” I shrug, watching the shadows dance along his face as he processes my words.

“You got in?” he asks in disbelief, with his jaw hanging open. “Holy hell.”

“Now, imagine once we leave. Her mom just died. Who do you think River will come running back to?” I lift a brow when something dark sparkles in his eyes, and he nods.

“Oh shit,” he breathes, eyes widening at my words. “She’s dead? Now she’s more vulnerable. Perfect,” he mumbles more to himself than me, rubbing his palms together. “She's always been mine.” A certain amount of possession rests in his tone, enough to raise the tiny hairs on my arm in alert.

Right. Always been his? Isn't that a load of shit? My heart squeezes. Fuck. What am I doing? I'm handing River over to a fucking psychopath. Not that she'd ever waltz back into his life, anyway. But that's the grand illusion of it all. River will never want Van. Not again. Ever. She'll always pine for the boys who walked away if I can get this plan to work. If I… I take a deep breath, already regretting this conversation. What the fuck am I doing?

How's that saying go? If you love something enough, you should let it go, and if it genuinely loves you, it'll come back. That's laughable at best. Once we escape and the boys forget about her, we'll never see her face again. And that's whatI'm forcefully doing. I'm peeling their fingers from around the butterfly, setting us free and letting our band escape.

My heart pounds as I stare out the front windshield, noting the frigid wind knocking against the windows. Little white flakes float down from the sky, melting on my windshield when they hit, leaving tiny wet droplets behind.

“So, you didn't come talk to me without reason. What is it?” he finally asks, focusing entirely on me.

“You have something I need.” Something crucial to pry their fingers away from River and something that will knock them back and down a peg or two and reevaluate their relationship with her. They wanted her exclusively, with no extra boyfriends in the background. With a sigh, I feel the enormity of my words.

He snorts. “Something you need? And what could that be? You've been pricks to me since you all started seeing her and stealing her away from me.” He shakes his head. “So, why should I even help you?”

“Because I know what you did,” I say, side-eyeing him when he stiffens, and his expression hardens.

“You don't know shit about me,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Are we done?”

“I find it funny the one night you're not stalking River through the bar is the same night she gets laid out and almost taken advantage of. Or is that just a coincidence?” I raise a brow when he pales, unable to keep his shame off his face, but quickly hides it behind his rolling eyes and twisting lips. “I'm sure the cops would love to hear the tidbit about you organizing the entire thing so you could feel like some sort of disgusting hero,” I huff, feeling revulsion slither through my veins like a thick sludge weighing me down, hoping what I’m saying isn’t true. But the fact is Van’s a slimy piece of shit who is desperate enough to pull something as disgusting as this off.

“You… What the hell do you want?” he asks, swallowing his nerves without refuting my claims against him. My damn heart sinks at the realization of what he’s done, but I shake it off and push forward with my stupid plan, even when my stomach rolls and vomit creeps up my throat.

“A little birdy told me you have some videos. Videos, I don't want to know how you obtained pictures. You. River. I need them.” My eyes burn into him as he wilts under the pressure and slumps.

“Why?”

“I should ask the same. Does River know you filmed your sex life with her?” I seal my lips shut, holding back the vomit threatening to break through. If there's one thing in my life I'll regret forever, it's this. I am stooping so damn low to obtain the ultimate dream that I’m disgusted at my actions. “Send them to me, and all will be forgotten. By next week, we'll be forgotten. River will run to you, and all will be normal.”

We sit silently for another moment, and Van nods, getting his phone out. “Sure,” he says, scanning through his phone, clicking a few pictures, and then hitting send. “What're you using them for?” He asks when my phone vibrates, but I refuse to look at the multiple videos and photos he sent.