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“We’ll wait for you…”
“We’ll stay if you can’t go…”
Instead of going to California, they'd rather risk our careers and stay with River. Sweet, sweet fucking River. The girl we sought out to help us get to this point. And now, everything is one big fucking mess. They’re damn near in love with her and ready to propose a fucking five-way marriage.
I heave a breath, glaring at the ceiling. Without overthinking my actions anymore, I grab my phone and look at the screen, swallowing the heavy lump in my throat. One message rests unread from an hour ago that I haven't bothered to answer. Or fucking look. If the guys knew what I was up to, they’d fucking murder me on the spot.
Asher: I need to talk to you.
Van: Why?
Asher: You want your girl back, right?
Asher: Don't get shy about it now.
Asher: We all know who you want.
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?
Asher: 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 what I'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 cold 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.
