Loyal Love

by Henry, Max

  “Who’s that?” Willow asks.

  “Greer.”

  She relaxes, returning to her blackmail.

  “Hi.” I shift my heels to the edge of the bed, bridging my legs.

  “It’s underway, then?” Her voice is soft, quiet.

  “It is. Where are you?”

  “Lacey took us over to Maggie’s.”

  “Having fun?” I don’t want to know, but it’s only polite to ask.

  The sadistic side of me wants her to be fucking miserable, missing me. Twisted—I know. But true.

  “Not all that much.” She sighs. “The guys turned up—drunk—and then one fell off his horse, and we think he broke his arm.”

  I laugh—so sue me. “Are you for real?” How Podunk is that town?

  “I am.” She can’t contain her amusement either. “I’d send you the video, but I have no idea where it’d end up.”

  “Low, Greer. That’s a low blow.”

  Willow catches my eye. I wink, causing her to roll hers.

  “Have you had any bites, yet?” Greer tries so damn hard to sound interested, but I know it’s bullshit.

  “That’s not what you rung for, is it?”

  Another heave of her breath. “No.”

  “I’m all ears.” The cadence of my voice lifts Willow’s gaze once more. I gesture for her to quit eavesdropping.

  She flicks me her middle finger and spins the laptop around.

  “The way things ended between us this afternoon,” Greer explains. “I’m sorry that I keep avoiding this.”

  “Uh-huh.” I skim-read the reply from Ingrid. As predicted, she’s freaking the fuck out.

  “Is that all?” Greer’s terse response whips me out of my focused state.

  “Is that all, what?”

  “I tell you I’m sorry, and you blow me off.” She grunts her displeasure. “Seriously, Colt. You whine that I keep pushing you away, but you fluctuate more in temperature than a broken thermostat. Hot, cold—I can’t keep up.”

  “Hey.” Shit. What did I miss? “I got distracted with something here. But I’m paying attention now.”

  “With something there,” she snaps. “Let me guess. Willow is with you.”

  “I know what you’re damn well thinking, and no. You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” She pauses before blasting my ear off. “Hi, Willow!”

  I can’t shut her up quick enough. “Hey, Greer!”

  For fuck’s sake. Women.

  “Not like that, huh?” Greer snaps.

  “What do you expect me to do?” I shout. “Get Willow to hand over all her passwords and shit so that I don’t need to be in the same room as her?”

  The girl in question stops what she’s doing to frown at me.

  “That would be a start,” Greer replies. “You want me to trust you, but you’re off having secret meetings with exes and going unnamed places every other night. I’m not going to be the one who gives it all, Colt. I’d like a little in return.”

  My fist tightens on the phone. I swear to God if it wasn’t so crucial to what I’m doing tonight, I’d throw it at the wall out of spite.

  “Hand me the damn thing.” Willow wriggles her fingers, arm outstretched.

  Like fuck. When I don’t comply, she wrestles it out of my hold anyway.

  “Hey, sweets,” Willow singsongs down the line. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, okay?” Her mouth opens, but she’s cut off by Greer. “Nope. Nothing like that.” She laughs. “More like, I’m comfy on the floor stirring up hell with your friends while he mopes beside me.” She shrugs. “I’m not sure. Ask him.”

  The phone’s thrust back at me. I snatch it off her, giving Willow a look that I hope conveys that I’ll talk about this with her later.

  “What are you moping about?” Greer asks.

  Fingers splayed across my forehead, I close my eyes to answer. “Tell me what you want me to say.”

  “The truth,” she grates. “Seriously, Colt. All I ever want with you is the truth.”

  I glance to Willow who winds her hand, telling me to get on with it.

  “The truth,” I say, rising to my feet, “is that Willow’s up close and personal with her MacBook. Me? As she said, I’m wallowing beside her while she does all the hard stuff.” I head for the door and step out into the hall. “I’m moping about everything, Greer. But, yeah, mostly I’m feeling shit about you.”

  I’m greeted with silence before her whisper pierces the line. “I’m sorry for being jealous.”

  “Don’t.” I would have been too had the roles been reversed. “You need to trust me, though.”

  “Pick me up tomorrow?” she asks. “I don’t want to do this over the phone. If we’re going to be honest with what’s happening between us and what that means for our future, I want to hash it out face to face.”

  As do I. Especially when my hands itch to touch her, and the tingles in my fucking groin warn me that I might need to stroke one out before I hit the hay tonight.

  I’m starved. I haven’t been this long without since… well, shit. Since I was a virgin. Sex is my favourite pastime—a perfect escape. And since I entertained the idea of doing it with her, I haven’t been able to stomach the thought of doing it with anyone else.

  “What time?”

  Just the way she exhales paints me a picture of her smile. “Is nine too early? I want to be able to get home and change before we come back tomorrow night.”

  I’d show up at five if she bloody well asked me to. “I’ll see you then. Tell Dad to save some breakfast for me.”

  “I’m sure you’re big enough to make your own.”

  I chuckle. “You know I am. But if I’m to dine and dash, I want it ready when I walk in the door.”

  “We don’t have to be that rushed,” she answers innocently.

  I loosen the neck of my shirt, hot all over. “We do if I want enough time to accomplish the things I have planned.”

  “We’re just talking, remember?”

  “Yeah,” I growl. “On the drive home. After that, I plan on you using your vocal cords in an entirely different way.”

  LACEY

  “So, um, I’m not the best at showing my weakness and stuff. I just want you to know it’s not your fault.”

  Tuck turns at the sound of my voice, looking over his shoulder from where he stands at the head of the stairs. His gaze rakes the length of me before he turns back to watch the driveway, leant against the timber upright.

  “You said I deserve better. That’s got nothing to do with your weaknesses, Lace.”

  I take a tentative step forward, leaving the false security of the house. I could hide anywhere in the world, and it wouldn’t make this go away. Nothing will until I face my fears head-on and resolve it.

  “I’m scared that if let my guard down, that you’ll see something you don’t like and reject me.”

  He chuckles, his shoulders moving as I silently move to stand beside him. “Don’t you think the crap we’ve been through so far would be enough to turn most guys off?”

  “That’s what makes me nervous.” I cross my arms to ward off the chill. “Have you heard from Beau?”

  “No.” He straightens, pushing off the post. “And don’t change the subject.”

  Damn it. “I didn’t realise I was.”

  He sighs and pushes a hand through his tousled hair. Eyes cast toward the timber beneath our feet, I recognise the confliction in the way he pinches his brow before carefully picking his words.

  “When you let me a little closer, and then you push me away again, it makes me wonder how you truly feel about me.”

  “Why?” My throat thickens.

  He tips his head back, throat bobbing when he swallows. “Shit.”

  “I want to understand.” I also don’t want to cry. This isn’t my moment to be vulnerable.

  My fears dampen when he reaches out and tugs me into him. Secure arms wrap around me, his body heat a welcome comfort. “After this shit wit
h the arseholes in town is over, where do you see us?”

  I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I guess starting over without so many obstacles.”

  “Do we need to start over, though?” Tuck presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “Can we pick up from here? Or do you think we’ve fucked it up for good?”

  I slide my arms around his waist, my fingertips just managing to brush against one another. “I don’t think we’ve screwed things up. I think I have.” I swallow back the regret that threatens to spill from my eyes. “I can blame my upbringing all I like, Tuck, but the crux of it all is that I’m selfish and impulsive.”

  “And I’m stubborn and sensitive,” he retorts. “Babe, we’ve all got negatives to who we are. You’re no worse than anyone else.”

  I lean back in his hold, arching my back against his firm forearms to see his face. “When I think back on our time together, all I can pick are things you’ve done for me, though. What have I done for you?”

  “You think this has been one-sided?” His brow furrows.

  I nod.

  A laugh escapes his nostrils, his lush lips curling on one side. “Hardly.”

  “Without it sounding needy, can you tell me what I’ve done for you? Because I honestly can’t see it.”

  He traces the rise of my cheekbone with his thumb, a gentle caress that gives me reassurance what we have isn’t easy to ignore. “You gave me a reason to look outside of myself,” he says quietly. “And you opened my eyes to how narrowminded I’d become growing up out here.”

  “You aren’t narrowminded.” I snort. “My mother is narrowminded.”

  “Guess I’ll find out when I meet her properly, huh?”

  I cringe. “She was quite horrible to you that day, huh?”

  He grins. “Babe. She’d busted me sneaking into her daughter’s bedroom. Wouldn’t you be hostile?”

  “I guess.”

  He leans down and takes my mouth with a soft sweep of his lips—a quiet promise of more to come. My head spins, and my hands tighten in the back of his shirt. The start of our relationship has been messy and confusing, but I can’t see it working any other way when we come from such different backgrounds.

  Tuck pulls back first, a low groan vibrating in his throat. I set my forehead against his lips and smile, squeezing his hard body.

  I swear to God, I shouldn’t be this lucky. But I’m glad that I am.

  “Speaking of parents,” I tease, leaning back again to see his heated gaze. “When do I get to meet your dad? I thought he wanted to see me.”

  A whitewash of light sweeps over the driveway, followed by a duller yellow glow. Tuck’s eyes narrow, head craned to the side to see over the harsh headlights. His whole body sinks as realisation sets in. “Now, it seems.”

  I jerk away, unreasonably embarrassed to be caught in Tuck’s embrace by his father. First impressions, Lacey.

  The first vehicle—Maggie’s mum’s—pulls into the parking spot in front of the rundown garage. Mags is out first, spilling out of the back seat to open the front passenger door. I don’t miss the smile Beau gives her before he gets out. He spots Tuck watching and lifts his new cast high, laughing.

  Tuck responds in kind, chuckling as he makes his way down the steps. “Bro!”

  “Simple fracture, man.” Beau waits for Maggie before he heads toward us. “Should be a quick heal.”

  My heart stops when the doors on the second vehicle open. I don’t recognise the steely grey ute, assuming it belongs to Tuck’s father. But it’s not Mr Brallant who has my pulmonary system in haywire—it’s his passenger.

  My dad.

  “We picked up some stragglers at the clinic,” Maggie’s mum calls out as she makes her way over from the car.

  Her indicators flash as the alarm engages, highlighting Dad’s angry face.

  I take a step backward, semi-hiding behind Tuck. “What were you doing there?”

  Dad glances to Tuck’s father and then draws a deep breath. “Kurt, here, dropped by to see if Tuck was at our place. That would have been the most interesting part of the night, but I’d already found something else in your room, Lacey, while I was putting your school bag away.”

  “What the fuck were you thinking of taking Sally?” Kurt hollers at Tuck.

  I shrink back another step and bump into Maggie. She slides her arm around mine, keeping close.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Tuck answers. “Clearly.”

  Kurt strides towards where the horses are tethered at the side of the house. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sir? What the hell. Even my dad doesn’t expect me to call him that.

  “Lacey, you have explaining to do, but first I think we need to get you and Greer home. Charlotte has had enough of a night with Maggie and Beau without having us here too.”

  “Nonsense,” Mags’ mum replies. “If you ask me, I think we all need a drink and a sit-down.” She looks pointedly at Maggie. “I’m sure my daughter will be of use in this conversation.”

  Mags squeezes my arm, her breath shuddering from her lips.

  “Come on.” Charlotte ushers Beau ahead of her. “Everyone indoors. The neighbours have had enough of a show for one night.”

  “I really must apologise,” Dad says in his super-sweet business tone. “I feel terrible to have this imposed on you.”

  “Why battle alone, huh?”

  I frown, still connected to Maggie as we head up the porch steps behind them. Tuck stays hidden in the shadows with his father, presumably going over the horses.

  “What do they know?” I whisper to Mags, watching Dad closely as he continues to chat with her mum.

  She shrugs, moving to let me go through the door first. “They spoke out of earshot at the doctors. I’m not sure, but I think it’ more than we’d like.”

  Our tense party assemble in the living room. Dad takes a position on the two-seater couch, gesturing for me to sit beside him. Maggie opts for the floor in front of the unused fireplace, Beau standing beside her, one shoulder propped against the mantle.

  “Where’s Greer?” Maggie asks, searching the room.

  Oh, my God. I can’t believe I forgot about her. “She’s in your room.” I move to stand. “I’ll go get her.”

  “No need.” Maggie’s mum holds a hand up, urging me to stay seated. “I’ll get her.”

  Mrs Epsom disappears up the hall, reappearing a short time later in the adjacent kitchen. She gets Greer to help her put the kettle on and arrange biscuits on a plate.

  The silence between the rest of us is choking, only broken when Kurt and Tuck join the room. I watch as Tuck hesitates near the door, waiting for his father give direction on where he wants them.

  Kurt Brallant has way too much influence over Tuck for it to be healthy. He almost seems scared of his father.

  “Right,” Maggie’s mum exclaims as she sets the nibbles on the coffee table. “I’m sure you boys need something that will settle the stomach, so I have Gingernuts for you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Epsom,” Beau says.

  I note that she doesn’t tell him to call her “mum”. I’m not even sure if we should anymore.

  Greer sets the coffee pot and sugar down on the table and then settles on the floor at my feet. We wait for Mrs Epsom to bring the coffee mugs through, Kurt helping her pour before the conversation gets underway.

  “I guess I’ll start,” Dad says, beside me. “I was interested to hear that you’ve been speaking with Derek Mayberry, Lacey.”

  I can’t look at him. Sweat beads on the nape of my neck, my hands clammy on my thighs. “Once. Yes.”

  “Would you like to tell me in your own words what it was about?”

  “Who told you?” How does he know about it?

  “Answer my question,” Dad says firmly.

  Not that it was a question… “He gave me an affidavit Colt asked him to draw up that absolves me of any involvement in the incident with Gayle. But I’m guessing you know that consi
dering it’s the only secret thing in my room for you to find.”

  Dad’s lips roll, his jaw hard as he thinks his next words through. The only sound in the room is the clink of a teaspoon on ceramic. “Why would you not bring this to me?”

  Can I disappear into this sofa? Maybe if I ball myself up small enough… “I, uh.” It sounds so lame out loud. “I thought I could deal with it myself.”

  Kurt leans back in his armchair; Tuck positioned at his shoulder. I glance between the two of them, wondering why Kurt has to be involved.

  “And what about the party tomorrow? When were you going to divulge that to me?” Dad asks.

  Greer sneaks her hand to my ankle, providing a little comfort in what appears to be the world v. Lacey.

  “I don’t think I need to answer that,” I whisper.

  “The motorbike?” Dad continues. “Think I wouldn’t realise it had moved?”

  “I didn’t think you’d approve.”

  He huffs. “Oddly enough, without the rest of this to deal with, I may have been supportive of a new hobby for you. But after what I’ve learnt, no. I don’t think it’s a good fit. Not to mention it’s illegal to ride it on the road without registration or a licence.” He leans forward, peering around my legs at Greer. “And when were you going to tell me what Colt was up to?”

  “It’s not her place to, really,” Mrs Epsom interjects. “It’s incredibly hard for a kid to choose to betray their friends’ trust.”

  “With all due respect,” Dad says. “I’d asked Greer to be my eyes and ears since I’m no longer in Riverbourne with my son.”

  “You made her your spy?” Maggie’s mum asks.

  “Let’s deal with Arcadia first,” Kurt states. I’m taken by how deep and authoritative his voice is. “We’ve got God knows how many entitled rich shits descending on Dee’s party tomorrow, and nobody prepared to ensure it doesn’t turn to chaos.”

  “You want them to attend?” Mrs Epsom asks.

  He shakes his head. “Stopping them from coming at this late hour would be like shovelling shit uphill. What we need to do is contain it.” He shifts his attention to Maggie. “Are Dee’s parents aware?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. We aren’t friends.”

  “I don’t think they are,” Beau answers. “They’re apparently not home this weekend.”