His words were meant to drive her from this room, this house, his side, his life— a different brand of death.
Still grasping her hand tightly, River took one partial step toward Bran. “I will never forgive you.”
“River.” Patrick’s pained voice. He went to reach out a hand, but her sister shook her head. No.
“Please, River.” Raven wasn’t sure what she was asking. Perhaps she didn’t want Bran to speak to either of her sisters as he had her. It was time to leave.
Bran watchedas horror stretched Raven’s splotchy, red face. Was she acting? Was it guilt? Could shebeinnocent? He was sick and sickened that he’d confronted her in front of her family and his.
River and Rowan were at Raven’s side, having moved there in support soon after he began speaking, but Raven never so much as glanced their way. She never stopped staring at Bran, anguish washing her features. Is she just upset that she was caught?
“You can’t possibly believe that of me, Bran.” Her voice was so soft, so pain-filled, that Bran almost folded. He flicked his eyes to his phone screen, still brightly lit, a picture of Raven clearly enjoying the attentions of another man— in Bran’s own fucking pub— he clenched his jaw tight and forced himself to look back at the woman who had betrayed him.
Patrick and his father looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He had. From the moment he’d opened the anonymous text and flipped through several pictures of his supposed girlfriend. Undressing in a few. Leaning her back against Wolves bar, her arms stretched toward a man walking into them. His life shattered.
Nothing made sense.
He looked to where James was standing near the door. He was frozen. His face was white. He looked almost worse than Bran felt. He briefly met Bran’s eyes, some emotion curling through his best friend that he couldn’t understand. Thathe, frankly, didn’t have the emotional stamina to attempt to understand.
The sisters had wrapped their arms around Raven, Jo at her back clutching her shoulders. Female solidarity. He didn’t blame them for lending their support, though he desperately wished some for himself. They couldn’t fathom Raven behaving that way. He couldn’t fucking imagine it either.
“Please.” He heard Raven whisper. “Take me home.”
“Yes,” River agreed.
“Of course,” Rowan whispered.
Jo kindly added, “I will pack everyone’s things myself and follow you in my car as soon as possible.”
When the sisters started to lead their sister from the room, River and Rowan looked at one another. Rowan briefly touched her fingers to Raven’s cheek. River nodded and continued with Raven, who looked about to faint— tears making silent, salty tracks down her cheeks. Rowan waited for them to walk by James and out the door before turning her attention to him and his family.
“You will regret what you said this night. The horrible, horrible things.” Rowan was furious and shaking from it. “What you’ve done is unforgivable. My sister could never conceive of such a betrayal, let alone perform the act.” At this, his father started to move toward Raven’s youngest sister. Rowan whipped her head in his direction and put her hand up to halt his progress. “No. No, Hugh. It is over between our families.”
Her mask of fury cracked as her breath caught, and she hiccupped on a cry. “I wish we’d never met any of you. You have destroyed my beloved sister. What our parent’s deaths cracked in our hearts... you may very well be the final blow.” Finished, she whirled back toward the door, James moving well to the side, and fled. A moment later, they heard the front door slam.Its reverberations ran through the room like aftershocks from an earthquake.
No one spoke, let alone moved for a full minute.
“You can fuck off, Bran. I don’t care if you’re one of my brother’s best friends.” Jo swallowed before forcing out her final parting shot. “The things you said to the woman you supposedly love... I don’t know who you are right now. Maybe, I never did.”
James tried to speak to his sister before she left. She wasn’t having it. Bran’s legs finally gave out, and he fell back onto one of his dad’s couches. He placed his hand over his face and felt the hot burn of tears trying to escape.
“Why would you say those things, son?” Bran felt his dad sit down next to him. When he placed a hand on Bran’s back in sympathy, he was done. He couldn’t speak, so he handed his phone over. There was silence as the other three men passed it around.
“Fuck that. No way, Bran. No.Way.” Patrick collapsed on his other side, letting his head fall against one of the couch’s oversized pillows.
The hand at his back, his father’s, fisted and became rigid.
“I’m sorry, Bran. I would like to think this is a misunderstanding, but...” he waved to Bran’s phone, “how can that be?”
Pulling himself together, he sat up and looked at the men in the room. James was sitting silently in one of the chairs by the bar, having finally moved from the doorway.
“I agree, Dad. There was no choice but to break things off.”
Bran let his head fall back, staring at the black beams supporting the vaulted ceiling. Sitting back up, he finished. “But I should have never said the things I did to Raven, and certainly not in front of everyone. Some of the things I said...” Groaning, he rubbed his hands briskly over his face. “I didn’t mean them,damn it. She hurt me, and I wanted to hurt her back. When things cool...”
Why bother to finish that sentence. Things would never cool. Not for him.
His dad walked over to the bar and started getting out glasses and pulling a bottle of Elijah Craig Barrel Proof from the shelf. Bran could feel himself break into smaller and smaller pieces. He doubted the strong American whiskey his dad was pouring could fix what had happened tonight, though hopefully, it would knock him out.
