The Consequence of Loving Colton

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Fred.” Reid sighed. “Damn, that monkey was quick, didn’t even see him sneak up on me like that.”

  Max winced. “Sorry, man, I forgot about—”

  “It’s cool.” He nodded. “I’m still a bit out of it, yeah, whatever.”

  “You had a monkey?” This from Jason. “Badass!”

  Max stole a guilty look at his brother. “He had a fascination with Reid.”

  “And when you say fascination.” I paused. “You mean—”

  “It wasn’t my fault!” Reid shouted.

  “Shhh, shh!” Max ran over and pulled Reid in for a hug. “Remember, it’s not your fault, okay?”

  “Mom, Dad, Max, the monkey has my balls, the monkey has my balls!” Reid started shaking.

  “This entire family is insane.” Jayne stomped out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind her.

  Meanwhile Max and Reid pulled apart and went from looking insane to looking completely normal.

  I narrowed my eyes as suspicion struck. “There was no monkey, was there?”

  “Nope.” Max smirked and gave his brother a high five. “I can’t believe you still knew that skit from camp.”

  “I remember everything,” Reid said.

  “So what now?” I looked around the room. “I guess we should start calling guests and—”

  “No!” Mom shouted, slamming her good hand across the table. “We’re not un-inviting anyone!”

  “Okay.” I held my hands out in front of me. “I was just thinking—”

  “Stop thinking, Milo!” Max shouted. “Your mom’s clearly overwrought!”

  “I am,” Mom whimpered. “But I think now is as good a time as any to tell you kids . . .”

  “Oh, no,” I whispered.

  “We’re moving.” She looked out the window. “This is our last real event here—and I won’t have it ruined by that, that, that—”

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” I interrupted.

  “Hussy!” she shouted. “We’re having a wedding and that’s that!”

  I raised my hand. “Unless you plan on marrying Jason off to Reid, we have no bride or groom. The marriage license says—”

  Jason laughed. “About that.”

  “What?” I almost didn’t want to hear.

  He scratched his head. “I, uh, forgot to get a marriage license, so legally we wouldn’t have been married today, but we’d have three days to get the license and make it official.”

  “So we went through hell for nothing?” I jumped to my feet, ready to charge my brother and mess up his other eye.

  “No.” Colton’s arms wrapped around me from behind as he whispered in my ear, “Not for nothing.”

  My mom’s eyes widened as an excited grin erupted across her face. “Yes, that will do. That will do just fine, Colton.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  MILO

  “Time out!” I held up my hands and made a T. “What will do?”

  “You.” Mom grinned, then started clapping her hands.

  “Mom, don’t clap, it makes you look like a seal.”

  Colton leaned in and whispered, “Your mom just bitch-slapped Jayne—let the woman clap. Hell, give her a medal. As far as I’m concerned, she can do whatever the hell she wants.”

  Max watched our exchange and started making a driving motion with his hands. He honked a horn, kept driving, and then motioned to Reid, who then got on all fours and collapsed as Max’s imaginary car ran him over.

  “Are you high too?” I asked, fighting the urge to feel his forehead.

  His answer? “The wheels on the bus go round and round—oh, look! I just ran over Milo.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Hilarious.”

  “Champagne for everyone!” Mom yelled. “We celebrate!”

  “Getting run over by a bus?” I yelled.

  “Marriage!” Mom said, ignoring me.

  “I’ll drink to anything,” Jason grumbled from the table. He had his arm raised high above his head and was leaning to the side. The guy needed an all-inclusive vacation—away from me.

  “What are we drinking to?” I took the champagne.

  “Guests will be arriving in an hour!” Mom shouted. “So I’m going to need everyone to pitch in.”

  “Jason can’t marry himself,” I felt the need to point out, you know, just in case I was the only person left in that room with a working brain.

  “Oh, silly.” Mom chuckled and did a little dance in place. “He’s not getting married.”

  “Max and I aren’t engaged.” I shook my head violently. “You know that, right?”

  “I’ll take care of things.” Colton grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward the hall and pushed. “Walk.”

  “Walk where?”

  “Just walk.”

  “I’m not into it, you know, that whole dominant-submissive thing? I don’t get it.” But I kept walking. “I don’t like being ordered around. It makes me want to punch you in the face. It doesn’t make me hot.”

  “It takes nothing,” Colton whispered, his breath blazing across my neck, “to make you hot, especially when it comes to me.”

  I stopped in my tracks, seething. “You arrogant son of a—”

  “In you go!” He pushed me into the bedroom, but didn’t follow.

  The door slammed shut.

  “Colton!” I banged on the door. “Let me out!”

  “Not yet!” He gave a sinister laugh. “I’ll let you out in a bit. Oh, and just let us take care of everything.”

  “Take care of what?” I pounded harder. “I swear I’m going to run you over with my car!”

  “I love you!”

  “I hate you!”

  “You love me! Oh, and Milo—I have a question for you.”

  I stopped pounding. “Wh-what?”

  “Will you . . .”

  My heart started to pound.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is . . .”

  Holy crap. I leaned against the door.

  “If it’s not too much to ask . . .”

  Was he?

  “Can you not call your brother and complain to him that I locked you in the room? I have a plan—but you gotta let me romance you my way.”

  “NO!” I shouted. “And this isn’t romance, it’s kidnapping!”

  “Aw, sweetie.” He chuckled. “You should have said something if you wanted me to tie you up!”

  “I loathe you!”

  “We’ll see . . .” Colton’s laughter echoed down the hall, then disappeared.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  COLTON

  “She pissed?” Jason asked, taking a long sip of his champagne.

  “I think.” I took a seat in the kitchen. “The question should be—when isn’t she pissed? That woman’s like a tiny ball of rage just waiting to rain on someone’s parade.”

  “Parades terrify me,” Max piped up.

  Jason nodded in understanding and slid the champagne toward him and Reid.

  “Parades?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Really?”

  Max shot me a look of terror. “The clowns are allowed out of their tiny cars, Colton. Have you ever even been to a parade? They hand candy and balloons to small children and have permanent smiles on their faces. No one”—he shuddered—“should have a permanent smile.”

  “So if I dressed up as a clown for Halloween—”

  “Do it, you son of a bitch. I’ll shoot you on sight.” Max threw back the contents of his glass and slammed it on the table.

  “He’s serious,” Reid piped up, his language slightly slurred. “When I was ten, I was the clown in the class play. I walked into his bedroom to see if he would help me with my wig and he shot me in the face with his Nerf gun.”

  “We’re thankful he still has his eye.” Max nodded. “Truth.”

  “R-right.” I watched the exchange with interest. Reid was the older brother but it seemed Max had done his fair share of bullying when he was younger too.

  “All right.” Mrs. Caro barre
led into the kitchen and took a seat. “We need a plan.”

  “I’m great with plans,” Max said.

  “Not this one.” I stood.

  All eyes were directed to me.

  Well, really I should say a few eyeballs looked at me, considering Jason could hardly see and Reid looked like he was seeing three of me instead of one—damn drugs were still doing him in.

  So I had Jenna, who seemed to be hanging on Max’s every word.

  Jason, who, as discussed previously, probably couldn’t find his way down the hall, let alone help decorate.

  Reid, who by the looks of it probably still thought he could fly.

  And Milo’s parents.

  “So?” Mrs. Caro clapped. “What should we do first?”

  I looked at the ragtag team seated around the table. “All right, I’m going to need your help. We’re going to build a castle.”

  Max perked up. “A castle? Where?”

  “Glad you asked.” I slapped him on the back. “We’re going to build a castle right next to the altar so that the princess knows without a shadow of a doubt—”

  “That you’re insane?” Max shot me a thumbs-up.

  “That I’m her prince.” I gave a nonchalant shrug even though it was a bigger deal than I let on. “I’m going to storm her castle.”

  “Back in my day, we just called that sex,” Grandma chimed in from her side of the table.

  Shit. I’d forgotten about that woman. She was sitting at the end of the table, her hands demurely in front of her.

  “Here, man.” Max slid something toward my hand. “Take it.”

  I looked down at the peach-colored pill. “What the hell?”

  “It’s best if she doesn’t interfere.” Max nodded.

  “So you want me to drug Grandma?”

  “Of course not!” Max laughed nervously. “She’s not mine! I refuse to claim her. Besides, we’ll have Reid do it.”

  Reid stood and wobbled. “The hell I will.”

  “Dude, can you even feel your toes?” Max asked.

  Reid’s eyes widened in horror. “My feet! My feet! Where are my feet?”

  “Guys!” Jason snapped. “We have to hurry—we only have an hour to perform a miracle.”

  “I studied to be a doctor,” Grandma whispered under her breath.

  “You were a vet.” Jason rolled his eye. “Big difference.”

  “A cow’s teats and the teats of a—”

  “She needs to stop saying teats.” Max heaved a sigh. “Look, Reid’s shaking again.”

  I held up my hands in exhaustion. “Fine, Grandma, you stay here and keep the table company, Max, you’re with me and Jason, we need to build the castle. Mrs. Caro, you and Jenna can go to Milo, make sure she looks like a bride, and for the love of God don’t let her run past you. Tackle her if need be!”

  “You can tackle cows too.” Grandma sighed. “Like I said, same thing.”

  Max whistled and then winked with a firm nod toward the pill. “She’ll go to happy land, dude, it’s worth it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  MILO

  It had been a half hour.

  I’d stopped pounding on the door and was now rummaging through the different drawers of the guest room for a protein bar . . . those things never went bad, right?

  Starved, I walked into the adjoining bathroom and was half tempted to start eating cough drops when a soft knock on the door interrupted my search.

  “Yes?” I said in an exasperated voice. “Have you come to set me free?”

  “No.” The voice was Jenna’s. “Actually, I’m here to help you, but you have to promise not to run past me or punch me in the face.”

  “Jason’s black eyes were total accidents.” I crossed my arms defensively. “Swear.”

  “Honey, you don’t need to defend yourself to us.”

  “What do you guys want?”

  After a moment of silence Jenna said, “We have food.”

  I chewed my lower lip and looked down at the bag of cherry cough drops in my hand. “What kind of food?”

  “Chocolate-covered almonds, fruit snacks, three different types of cheeses, and some crackers.”

  I scowled and looked down at the floor. “Do the crackers have sea salt?”

  “Yup!” Dang, I could practically see Jenna’s beaming smile through the door.

  “Fine. I won’t run.”

  The lock turned and Jenna and my mom both entered, then slammed the door behind them, barricading it with their bodies.

  “Guys, chill.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not an escaped convict.”

  Mom’s eyebrows rose as if to say, Sure you aren’t, honey. Sure you aren’t.

  Geez, you hit one person with a ping pong ball and accidently impale him and suddenly you’re a felon!

  “The food?” I sniffled, sitting on the bed.

  “Here.” Jenna unloaded a giant basketful of goodies onto the bed. It was like staring at heaven. No, seriously. I wasn’t one of those girls who got tiny hunger pangs when it was time to eat, then took a few sips of water, burped, wiped my mouth, and announced I was full.

  Hell, no.

  Carbs. Give. Me. Carbs. Give me protein. Give me chocolate and I’ll be your best friend.

  My mom was actually so concerned with my chocolate addiction when I was little that she had to repeatedly tell me that if a nice young man or woman offered me candy I had to scream at the top of my lungs.

  Unfortunately for her, she never told me that Santa was supposed to offer candy to kids. Thus my being blacklisted during the Christmas of ’04 from the mall.

  I swear that damn Santa still gives me the stink-eye.

  “So!” Mom clapped her hands. “We don’t have a long time, so there’s really nothing to be done with that hair of yours.”

  I touched my hair self-consciously with one hand while I gnawed on a Snickers bar with the other. “What do you mean? Time?”

  “Yeah.” Jenna tapped her chin with her pointer finger. “But I think if we keep it down and just wrap it into a low bun it will look really classic.”

  “Great idea!” My mom reached for my hair and pulled. There was no escaping. She was like a girl who had just discovered her first Barbie and didn’t realize that plastic hair didn’t grow back.

  “Ouch!” I snapped as my roots begged for relief. “Mom! This is why I never let you do my hair when I was little!”

  “You’re fine.” She pulled again. I sighed.

  She tugged again. My head followed the direction of the tug, it had no choice unless it wanted to get ripped off.

  Not fine, not fine, not fine. “What’s going on?”

  Jenna walked out of the room and returned with something in a garment bag.

  “Just in time!” Mom announced, forgetting to let go of my hair as she walked over to Jenna and pulled me onto the floor. “Oh, sorry, honey.”

  “I’m good.” I pushed to my feet and approached the shiny black bag. “What’s this?”

  “Your dress.” Jenna giggled. “Duh.”

  “I already have my dress for the wedding.” I pointed down. “I’m wearing it.”

  “Right, but Jason’s wedding isn’t happening,” Mom explained. “So you need a new dress.”

  “For the new pretend wedding?”

  “For . . .” Mom looked at Jenna, then thrust her hand into the air. “For your father’s and my vow renewal.”

  A tear started rolling down her cheek.

  “He’s been such a good, good man, and all this time, he’s stood by me. Through . . . thick and thin, through war and peace.”

  Weird speech, but I hugged her anyway.

  “And we can’t get the money back—it’s too late—so we thought it might be nice, with friends and family around us, to make that commitment, especially in front of our children.”

  And suddenly I was feeling emotional because I’d done nothing except lie to her, lie to Colton, cause harm to Jason, and allow Grandma to sink her claws into an i
nnocent young man who might not make it through the night without getting taken advantage of.

  “Mom.” I sighed and fell into her arms. “I’m so sorry! You guys deserve this, you deserve a chance to renew your vows. I feel selfish, and stupid. I was throwing a fit and—”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Mom laughed. “We’re used to that.”

  “I’m sorry for that too.”

  “Honey, the heart wants what it wants.” She peeled my arms away from her body and held my hands out in front of me. “Never apologize for fighting until your last breath for what you want in life. That’s how things happen, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mom’s eyes twinkled. “You have to want love more than your next breath. Love shouldn’t be something you jump into because it’s the right time in your life or because your friends are all married. It should be something that happens naturally, and in the end it turns into the supernatural because suddenly you can’t imagine waking up every day without that other half. You no longer want to be an individual but a team. There is no coexisting in marriage—it’s a partnership—and you have to want it, you have to sometimes make yourself want it, but the need has to be before the want. Do you get what I mean?”

  “Kind of.” I nodded.

  She slapped her hand over my mouth and pushed me against the bed, both plugging my nose and making it so I couldn’t breathe out of my mouth. Holy crap, my mom was killing me. She’d officially snapped. I knew I was the bad kid, knew it!

  I thrashed about for what felt like minutes when really it was like ten seconds.

  Jenna watched in absolute horror.

  Then Mom pulled away her hand. As I gasped for air and stared at Mom like the lunatic she was, she leaned over and whispered, “You have to want it as much as you want your next breath—you have to want Colton as much as you need air to survive—love is survival.” With that she pulled back, stood, and offered a bright smile. “So why don’t we get you dressed?”

  And my parents wondered why their kids hadn’t turned out normal.

  What’s worse?

  She made absolute perfect sense.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE