by K. I. Lynn
How fucking dare he?
I’m down the driveway in the blink of an eye, crossing the distance at top speed.
Austin exits his car, looking all determined and shit.
And what gets to me the most? What has me ready to undo him?
It’s that determination. The hardcore, no-holds-barred resolve on the guy’s face.
I kicked his ass for touching Kira. I made damn sure he knew that was why I was kicking his ass. So he knows why I’m enraged at the sight of him here. Why I’m coming at him the way I am.
The fucker is ready to meet me head on. Ready to take me and all my fury just so he can get close to my girl.
He slams his car door right before I get in his face.
He meets me, and we’re nose to nose, chest to chest.
Two men utterly in love with one girl and ready to destroy each other for it.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him slowly, because in the back of my mind I haven’t forgotten it’s Kira’s birthday. I’m giving him a chance to walk the fuck away so I won’t have to pummel him into the driveway and ruin Kira’s night further.
His jaw hardens. “You really didn’t think I’d miss her eighteenth, did you?”
I read every damn word behind that sentence. I swear to God, the subtext is too clear to ignore. Too blatant for me to stand it.
He came to do the very same thing I came to do now that Kira’s eighteen.
Claim her.
Both of my fists curl, tightening so hard I immediately start to lose blood flow.
And I don’t care. I don’t feel anything but the violent hatred pulsing through my veins. “You need to leave.”
He gives me this little sardonic laugh that makes me wonder if he realizes how close to killing him I actually am. “She’s eighteen. So what’s your excuse now, huh?” He tilts his head, light blue eyes narrowed. “Though that was a weak excuse, man. We both know that doesn’t really matter.”
Almost as if he’s goading me. Pushing my buttons. Looking for a specific response. And, suddenly, I remember something he spat at me the last time we fought, when we’d been rolling around on the ground and going at each other like two wild animals, hit for bloody hit.
“This isn’t about her being seventeen and you know it.”
I narrow my eyes right back at him, exhaling as slow as I can, trying to keep it together.
But a part of me wants to lay it all out in the open. Make him understand just how I feel about Kira.
How fucking far I’ll go to keep any man—especially him—away from her.
“I’m never going to forget how you took advantage of her, you fucking piece of shit.”
He throws his head back and barks out a laugh, and that’s when I realize his fists are clenched, ready to start breaking bones.
Just like mine fucking are.
“I didn’t take advantage of shit, Brayden. She. Came. After. Me.”
This motherfucking, good-for-nothing, pile of . . .
The image burns straight through my synapses, branding itself, adding to an already overbearing torment. All I see is Kira, searching him out, offering herself to him.
Him happily taking . . .
I don’t realize I’ve begun to pull my fist back until I hear my name being screamed behind me.
“Brayden! No! Stop!”
I jerk to a stop.
So does Austin.
Fucking hell. I won’t rest, I won’t stop, I don’t think I’ll even fucking sleep until I’ve broken every bone on his face.
“Brayden!” Kira’s little heels click on the driveway as she gets closer. And then she’s right there, maneuvering between us, her hands landing on my chest as she starts to push me back away from Austin.
The man she fucked.
The man she keeps claiming she wants to try and be with.
Her lips are still swollen from my kisses. Her hair remains a mess. The lights illuminate her hazel eyes. Her face.
She’s so damn gorgeous. All I want to do is wrap my arms around her. Hug her tight and breathe her in.
“Don’t do this,” she pleads in a low voice.
I’m letting her push me back, letting her stop me from doing the one thing I want to do more than anything. The one thing that’s my right to do considering she’s mine.
“I’m not.” My voice is shot to shit. Low enough so only she hears it. “Look.” I hold my arms out away from myself, motioning with my head down my body, drawing her attention to the fact that she’s in control right now.
She blinks, surprised, then looks down at where her hands are braced, right above my raging heart. Then she looks at the ground and the distance she’s put between me and Austin.
Her head turns in his direction and the apologetic look she gives him annihilates something inside me.
She faces me again, her expression hard, not at all soft like it’d been when she looked at him. “I asked him to come tonight. It’s my birthday. Don’t ruin it for me anymore than you already have.”
If she’d taken a knife and shoved it right in my chest, it would’ve hurt a lot less than hearing those words from her. “Is that what you want?” I hiss, fists clenched again as I fight the primal beating of every male instinct in my body. Will she ever know how much this is costing me right now? How hard it is not to grab her?
Is she aware that her hands are still on my chest, as if she can’t let go, despite what she’s saying?
“You want him here instead of me?” The words are nothing more than a whisper, meant only for her to hear, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear the hurt behind them.
That she doesn’t.
Her eyelashes flutter, and she blinks up at me, surprised, like it’s fucking mind blowing that I’m aching over her right now.
Was I really that good all these years? I somehow managed to convince her I didn’t care this much?
“I . . . I . . .”
“Say it, Kira.” I lower my head just an inch, dying to lower it the rest of the way, to feel those pouty lips. To claim them in front of Austin. But I don’t. For her, I hold back, forcing myself to keep an appropriate distance, to only stare into her eyes. “Tell me you want him here instead of me.”
Her fingers flex on my pecs, and I can sense how hard it is for her not to grab onto me right now. “Will you actually leave without a fight if I do?” Her eyes flash as she waits for my answer.
A challenge.
I swallow back every selfish demand that my mind, heart, and body shout out, and nod at her. “If that’s what you want . . . “
We stare each other, and I can’t make out what I see in her eyes, but I do see one thing loud and clear.
She’s struggling.
Her chest shakes with her next breath, and even after her lips part, it takes her a few seconds to get the words out. “I . . . yeah. Go. I asked him to be here tonight.”
Holy fuck, this girl actually has me close to crying. “You asked him. But you didn’t say it. Do you want him here instead of me?”
Her stubborn little chin rises. I almost expect her to say it and I brace myself for the impact.
She doesn’t.
And in the silence that follows, somehow we end up an inch closer, and I have no clue if I made the move, or if she did.
We’re panting, breath for fucking breath, our bodies more in sync than they’ve ever been. I realize this, and with that realization comes a spark of hope. Hope that what’s between us will help her make the right choice.
That right here, right now, in this fucked-up moment, she’s feeling me, and that she gets the pain eating at my insides.
“I want him here instead of you,” she whispers out of nowhere, so low I almost lie to myself and tell myself I didn’t hear her. Her eyes won’t meet mine.
“W-what?”
Kira swallows, and I think I see tears swimming in her eyes, but then she blinks and they’re gone. “You heard me. He stays. I want you to go.”
I can’t remember anyone ever fuck
ing up my head as much as my parents’ fighting had, but this moment right here, if I can’t fix it, if there’s no bouncing back for us, will be one that I never forget.
The girl I love just chose another man over me.
She wants him here on her eighteenth birthday instead of me.
She gave him her virginity instead of me.
I deserved all of that; it won’t matter in the long run. If I can’t win her back, this night will fuck with my head for the rest of my life, ruining any chance of me loving any other girl ever again.
She’s destroying me.
The fucked-up part? She has every right to do so.
And I love her, so I’ll give her that.
I jerk away from her, and her hands drop to her sides. I don’t miss seeing her clench them.
I wish that were enough to ease the howling inside me. I really do. It might be hard for her to let me go, but she’s still choosing to do so, and she’s choosing to do it over him.
Will she let him touch her tonight once I’m gone? Make love to her?
I stop that train of thought before I lose it all and say fuck it as I storm around her and head back to destroy Austin.
“Enjoy the rest of your birthday,” I tell her. The sad thing is, I really do mean it, and I know she can hear that.
Her mouth falls open and a stricken look crosses her face for a moment.
Then, just like that last beautiful softening of her guard, it’s gone with a blink.
Christ. I’ve done a million hard things when it comes to this girl, but this one takes the cake.
I’m tempted to jog down the driveway because it’ll get me out of there faster, but I refuse to look like I’m running away in front of Austin. Stepping up to Kira, I pause long enough to lean down and place a quick kiss on her forehead.
It isn’t quick, though. My lips refuse to leave her skin, and my eyes slide closed as I take in the scent of her, like a man starved. She doesn’t acknowledge my kiss, nor does she move away. Eventually, common sense returns, and when I open my eyes and move away from her, that bastard Austin is there, staring at us.
His eyes are calculating. Full of conclusions.
I should try to do something to dispel them, shouldn’t I?
But I don’t. I’m already giving him and Kira more than I can bear tonight. I won’t give that up also. It’s the only claim I’ve been able to lay on her, no matter how small or disastrous, and I’m not taking it back.
Quick steps take me down the driveway to where my car’s parked. Once in the driver’s seat, I catch sight of Kira and Austin standing in the driveway. He’s moving closer to her.
Her eyes are still on me.
But she asked me to go, so I’ll go.
Turning the ignition, I peel out of the driveway and down the block in less than five seconds, gunning it with all the speed the car has.
Still not enough. I still feel her.
It’s always been like that, hasn’t it? No matter how far I fucking go, I always feel her.
And now she’s with him. Will be with him for the rest of the night.
Goddamn it, what the hell am I going to do? How the hell am I supposed to get through tonight?
On the way back to the hotel, I veer off the road and into the parking lot of a liquor store with the intention of buying every damn bottle they have in stock.
I watch him leave, and it’s the very last thing I expected him to do. I asked him to. He told me he would if I asked, but . . .
“Kira, are you okay?” Austin asks me, coming closer.
I can’t take my eyes off Brayden, even as he starts the car and speeds off . . .
“Kira?”
“Huh?” I shake my head, trying to focus on Austin.
My eyes are still locked on the road, even though Brayden turned the corner and is long gone.
“Kira, babe, you wanna go inside and relax for a bit?” Austin’s hand lands on my arm.
I can’t stop thinking about the look on Brayden’s face.
Can’t stop thinking about him, period.
He left. He actually left because I asked him to.
So why do I feel so wrong about it?
“What the fuck do you mean you left her with Austin?”
I don’t pull the phone away from my ear, even though Ryan’s yell is loud enough to pierce my eardrum. Sitting on the loveseat in the hotel room, I stare blankly at the wall, holding my phone with one hand, a bottle of Lagavulin in the other.
There’s another two bottles waiting at my feet. Just in case. I threw down more than three hundred dollars on all three bottles, but considering how this specific type of scotch always lays me out on my ass, I consider it money well spent.
Tipping the bottle, I take another swig. “I had no choice, Ryan.” Shit. I sound as defeated as I feel.
As drunk as I’m starting to get, too.
“What the hell do you mean you had no choice?” Ryan yells. There’s a soft feminine voice in the background, soothing him, telling him to relax.
He’s with Dana. Sure, I dropped him off at her place, but it’s still a new concept—Ryan with a girlfriend.
I’m here, in this hotel room, with nothing but this rage and agony pulsing through me.
I’m happy for him—he finally got his girl. I really am. Still hurts, though.
He didn’t hurt her as much as I’ve hurt Kira.
Is she busy trying to forget me? Trying to hurt me some more? Is she allowing Austin to do every single goddamned thing I’d kill to do to her?
Another swig.
“Answer me, Brayden.”
“She asked me to,” I whisper, and another gulp burns its way down my throat. My stomach turns, almost rejecting it. I’m drinking too much, too fast.
Let me get sick. Don’t care. It sure as shit can’t feel worse than I feel right now.
“And that’s enough of a reason for you to just leave him there?”
“She has so many reasons to hate me already . . . she looked so sad. There were tears in her eyes. She asked me not to ruin her birthday any more.” I hear myself uttering the words as if from afar, lost in the twisting labyrinth of misery in my head.
I’m so fucked up over this girl. I shouldn’t be. I should have never allowed any woman to have this much power over me.
Hah! Allow. As if I ever truly had a choice.
Ryan is silent and I hear Dana speaking to him in the background. From the little bits I manage to pick up, I can tell she’s now fully in on what’s going on. That she’s giving him advice.
Sounds like she’s telling him to side with me, to understand. That I have a point.
If I wasn’t so utterly morbid right now, I might be able to smile at that.
Ryan sighs. “I don’t like him near her.”
I throw my head back and laugh bitterly at that statement. There’s no need for me to even tell him what that laugh means; he knows.
“Shit. My bad, bro. I keep forgetting this is probably harder for you than me.”
The bottle is raised to my lips again. I’m halfway through it by now, can feel the alcohol starting to hit. The numbing buzz taking over.
It’s not anesthesia. Nowhere near close. Nothing short of that will dull the pain I’m starting to realize.
“Maybe I should just head over to the party,” he says.
“She’ll end up hating you, too.” It’s true. We’ve both gone about this the wrong way, no matter how entitled we are. Kira is a woman, with her own free will. With her own right to decide what’s best for her—what’s going to help her forget the pain I caused her. Help her be happy again.
Us getting in the way of that only hurts her more.
But, fuck, I just wish to high hell it wouldn’t have been Austin.
“So what the hell are you going to do?”
“I have no fucking clue,” I grit out.
“Are you giving up?”
I stare down at the hazel eyes of the kitty tattoo on my wrist. “I think
she wants me to.”
“Can you?”
The answer to that is easy. “I don’t think so.” But that’s not where it ends. Suddenly, it’s all bursting out of me, like a flood, unstoppable. Destructive. “What does it matter, though? I gave her every reason to hate me—”
“She doesn’t hate you, Brayden.”
I laugh again at his statement. “You didn’t see her eyes tonight. She does. And I don’t blame her. I never will. I can’t force her to believe that I love her. Won’t matter if she does if she can never forget everything I did to her. I’d hate me, too, if I were her.”
His frustrated exhale comes over the phone. “Even if she does hate you, you do know what that means, right?”
I fall silent at his question, confused.
“It means she still loves you. You can’t hate something you don’t care about. Think of your dad.”
That is the very last person I want to think about right now. That wound needs to remain tightly sealed, thank you very much. I’m already bleeding internally over Kira. I don’t need to add whatever sick emotions my father has caused into the mix.
“I know it’s hard to think about it right now—”
“Stop psychoanalyzing me.”
“Somebody has to, because it sounds to me like you’re letting yourself get caught up in the pain and you’re not thinking clearly.”
“What the hell do you want me to say?” I shift in the seat, too worked up, too raw to take this. He’s adding to my frustration, poking at an already irritated weakness, and I don’t know how long I can hold out without snapping at him. “Your sister told me it’s over. Done. She told me there’s no hope, pretty much let me know that no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to fix it. Then she told me to leave and that she wanted Austin there instead of me!” The last part leaves me on a roar, and the still half-full bottle goes flying out of my hand, shattering against the wall.
Immediately, I’m reaching for one of the others at my feet, ready to open it—
“Brayden, are you drinking?”
Sighing, I leave the bottle on the ground.
“Stop for a second and hear me out.”
“Your girl’s not with another man, doing God knows what with him,” I murmur angrily, my fingers twitching listlessly. I need something in them—a bottle back in my hand.
