Three is a War

by Pam Godwin

  “My house is still bugged?”

  My old house. The reminder that I sold it makes my chest hurt.

  “I reinstalled the cameras the day I moved out.” Cole studies me intently.

  “It was all an illusion then.” My voice rasps, thick with resentment. “I was never free of you.” A hollow laugh bubbles up, choked by a sob. “You let me walk out of the penthouse that day, with every intention of monitoring me? That’s so fucking ironic, because your cameras and listening devices and constant invasion of my privacy were big reasons why I left.”

  If they’ve been watching me, they know just how wretched I’ve been without them. I haven’t been eating, dancing, or living. I haven’t done anything but miss them with every goddamn pang in my chest.

  How fucked up is that? To ache for not one but two men who lie and cheat and manipulate at every turn? Oh, and now I can add drugs and kidnapping to the list of reasons why I should be looking for a phone and reporting their asses to the authorities.

  Is this Trace’s estate? I don’t even know where I am. “What is this place?”

  Cole meets Trace’s eyes and shifts his unblinking glare to me. “This is where we finish this.”

  “Finish what?” I gape at Cole, my pulse thrashing at the base of my throat. “No, never mind. I quit this shit five weeks ago, which means I’m done. It’s over.”

  I whirl toward the front entry and take off at a sprint. Maybe there’s a car outside or neighbors who can help me. Or maybe there’s not. I just need to get the fuck out of here.

  When I reach the door, I find it locked with another keypad.

  “Let me out, dammit.” I yank frantically on the handle, heaving with desperation. “You can’t keep me here.”

  Their silence heats my blood, and I pivot to face them.

  “Are you holding me hostage?” I glare at Trace’s irritatingly composed expression.

  “We didn’t kidnap you.” Cole stands from the couch. “And we’re not holding you here.”

  “You’re a liar, Cole.” I release the door and storm back toward them. “One of you drugged me and brought me here. Or was it both of you? Are you working together now?”

  Trace scowls at Cole. Neither of them speak.

  Two seconds ago, I walked in on a standoff with a gun. It’s safe to assume that whatever arrangement they’ve cooked up is unstable at best.

  I veer past them and check the patio doors. All locked with keypads. Circling the kitchen island, I search for another way out. “What was your disagreement about?”

  “You’ve made some poor choices.” Trace clasps his hands behind his back and follows me at a distance. “Specifically, your decision to move halfway across the country.”

  “It was the smartest decision I’ve made since I met you.” I swing open a door in the kitchen, revealing a massive pantry. Damn. “Where’s the garage?”

  Open shelving on the kitchen’s raw wood walls displays dishes and cookware. The floor plan is simple, airy, and bright, as if designed to pull visitors toward the exterior views of the lake and woodland.

  There’s another door beyond the built-in refrigerator, the wood frame blending with the maple cabinetry. I bet it leads to a garage.

  “You’re free to go.” Cole prowls around the long kitchen island, standing opposite of Trace and corralling me in. “After I explain a few things and deliver your punishment.”

  “Punishment?” My jaw drops, and my heart rate explodes. “Are you serious?”

  Trace assumes an imposing stance, hands behind him, blocking my path to the garage door. His eyes flick between Cole and the gun on the table. “We haven’t agreed on who is punishing her.”

  “That was the disagreement?” I stab my fingers through my hair, my voice pitching with disbelief. “You wanted to be the one to punish me, so you pulled a gun on Cole?”

  “I want to be the only one putting a hand on you. Ever.”

  “This is nuts.” I try to dart around him, but he shifts with me, trapping me behind the island. I turn to Cole, who barricades the other end. I’ll scratch and claw my way past them if I need to. “We’re over. No more talking. No more punish—”

  “You kicked me out of our house.” Cole stalks closer, six feet away, three feet, every long stride forcing me backward toward Trace. “I haven’t talked to you or touched you in weeks. Not cool, baby. Your ass is going to be so fucking red you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

  “You cheated on me!” A sob rises up, shaking my shoulders. “I waited for you, mourned your death, while you were banging another woman!”

  “Are you hearing this?” Cole glowers at Trace and thrusts a finger in my direction. “She just proved my fucking point. I win.”

  Trace’s nostrils widen with a heavy inhale before he gives a slight nod. “Fine.”

  What the hell just happened? I swat a lock of hair from my face, my vision blurring with tears. “You win what exactly?”

  “I will be the one punishing you.” Cole’s eyes dance with ruthless fire. “And you’ll love every minute of it.”

  “No, Cole.” I ball my hands at my sides, my voice simmering with venom. “You will take your verbal masturbation and shove it up your cocky, lying, cheating ass!”

  “There she is.” Trace’s scowl lifts at the corner.

  “What does that mean?” I angrily swipe at the moisture on my cheek.

  “You lost that feisty attitude over the past few months. I hoped this…action plan would inspire it to return.”

  “By action plan you mean knocking me unconscious and dragging me into the middle of nowhere?”

  “Yes.” Trace tilts his head, his towering frame deadly still.

  “Move out of my way.” I hold my fists at my sides.

  “Danni—”

  “I want to leave gently, gracefully. Give me that.” I lower my tone. “Let. Me. Go.”

  “You don’t get to go gentle.” Cole leans in, his breath heating my neck. “Not when you have a reason to fight.”

  “Fight for what? Can you not see how hopeless this is?” I plaster my back against the cabinet, hemmed in and restless for space. “We’re a tangled, damaged, unfortunate tragedy of love. I’m not fighting for that.”

  “You will.” Trace steps to the side, opening a path to escape.

  I take it, running toward the door at the edge of the kitchen and finding a three-car garage on the other side.

  Cole’s motorcycle, multiple ATVs, and a black Range Rover fill the stalls. I close the door, leaving them in the kitchen, and scour the garage for keys. Nothing. The SUV is the only vehicle that can get me back to civilization, and all the doors are locked. Fuck.

  Maybe there are more cars in the driveway? I circle back and hit the button that lifts the garage doors. I’m surprised Cole and Trace haven’t followed me. It’s not a good sign. If there’s a chance I can leave, I’m certain they’ll prevent it. Doesn’t stop me from racing into the blast of cold air outside of the garage.

  The half-circle driveway is empty. My shoulders fall, and the frigid temperatures shiver through my bones. I don’t have a coat or a phone. My stiletto boots are sexy as hell, but I won’t last a mile in them.

  I walk to the end of the black asphalt and pause at the narrow dirt road that winds into the woods. The estate sits on a dead end. No other houses. No rumble of traffic in the distance. Total isolation.

  Dusk blankets the surrounding forest of leaf-less trees in a gray gloom, the sky growing darker by the minute. My only option is to go back inside, but my boots remain rooted to the pavement.

  It’s peaceful out here. Calming. Other than the sounds of squirrels rustling the undergrowth and the occasional chirrup of a bird, it’s noiseless. Lifeless. Completely void of drama and trickery.

  A cobblestone sidewalk leads away from the driveway and curves around the wing of the estate, the path illuminated by dim lights. I follow it, wishing I had my coat as the chilly breeze penetrates my sweater.

  Gurgli
ng, river-rock streams and mulched footpaths trail off in every direction, begging to be explored. Most lead into the woods. Others point the way to patios and exterior doors of the house.

  I stick to the main walkway, which takes me to the rear terrace. The kitchen and living room are visible beyond the full-length windows, but I don’t see Cole or Trace. They’re probably watching me on hidden cameras, the fuckers.

  From there, I cross the bridge that descends to the dock on the cove. The tree-lined shores wrap around calm dark water that stretches for miles. Several boat lights bob in the horizon, far outside of hearing range and not likely to venture near this inlet.

  A metal gate bars entry to the covered dock. Another keypad. But when I pull the handle, the latch buzzes an electronic sound and opens. I look back at the house. Are they controlling it remotely?

  Overhead bulbs light the way as I walk down the center between the boat slips. I pass a ski boat, fishing boat, pontoon, several jet skis—all buttoned up with heavy tarp. Even if I could unsnap the covers and find a key, where the hell would I go on a lake in the middle of January? It’s off-season, and this part of the state is a ghost town.

  I continue to the end of the dock, where it opens to the cove. Benches bolt to the uncovered section of the dock, facing the water. I lower onto one of the seats and wrap my arms around myself, shuddering against the cold.

  The lake is so still it looks like black tar, enrobed by the shadows of skeletal trees. I bet the landscape is stunning in the warmer months.

  I glance over my shoulder at the stone-veneered lakefront estate. It has panoramic views from every room, lavishly set on acres of raw wilderness. The natural rock and wrought-iron terrace is beautifully landscaped with archway columns and discreet lighting. A private dock, six boat slips, no neighbors—it’s a recluse’s paradise.

  If this is Trace’s property, why didn’t I know about it? Maybe it belongs to a friend? Maybe I should just head back inside and ask them. Cole said I was free to go after he talked to me and delivered my punishment.

  My skin heats at the thought of him spanking me. I close my eyes, hating the way he still affects me. They both have so much power over my reactions. Too much. Even after the lies and the betrayal and the cheating, I want them.

  This is why I can’t be near them. I don’t trust myself.

  I don’t trust my heart.

  Leaving them went against my deepest instincts, and it hurts. It terrifies me. They make my pulse race and my head spin and stir things in me I’ll never experience with another person.

  My life began and ended with them. I might be able to physically move on, but I’m not kidding myself. I will never get over them.

  While I had to stop the toxic cycle we were in, I never stopped loving them. The rare and beautiful thing I had with each of them was strangled by lies, gutted by broken promises, and infected with poisonous distrust.

  I’m just as much to blame for its corruption. I hurt them with my indecisiveness. I held their hearts in my hands and forced them to bend painfully, unnaturally, to gain pieces of mine.

  My weak, naive selfishness didn’t solve a damn thing. I broke us, kiss by jealous kiss, breath by greedy breath.

  What do I do now? Should I listen to what they have to say at the risk of being pulled into their lies? Or should I stay clear of them and get the hell back to St. Louis?

  The sky darkens to a sooty black, and the cold air seeps in. I tug the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, stalling, waiting. It won’t be long before they show up.

  Just as I thought, less than a minute passes before footsteps sound on the dock. Except I only hear one set of treads. Probably Trace, since he’s the one with the gun.

  I don’t turn to look as my visitor stops behind me and drapes a fleece blanket around my shoulders.

  “Thank you.” I burrow into the warmth, savoring the masculine scent that infuses the heavy material.

  Strong, powerful legs fill my view—thick muscle beneath frayed jeans and heavy boots.

  Cole.

  He lowers onto the bench beside me, and the wood creaks under the weight.

  “Did you steal Trace’s gun?” I keep my eyes on the water, refusing to sink into the seductive pull of his.

  “No.” He stretches out a leg and reclines back. “He knows this conversation is between you and me.”

  I assume that means he’s here to make excuses about his affair. “Where are we? Southern Missouri?”

  “Yeah. Stone County.” He flicks a finger at the lake. “That’s—”

  “Table Rock Lake. I know the area. We used to vacation here when I was a kid.” I can’t ignore the heat of his body so close to mine, so I scoot a few inches away. “Who owns the house?”

  “I do.”

  “What?” My pulse kicks up. “How can you afford it?” Curiosity turns my head, and I plummet into his deep brown gaze. “Did your government job pay for it?”

  “Not the government, but my skill set made me a wealthy man.”

  “I don’t understand. You worked a minimum wage security job. I thought you needed money.”

  “That’s an assumption you made.”

  “You never corrected me.”

  His jaw flexes. “There were side jobs over the years, as well as other means to collect assets.”

  “What other means? Or is that another secret you can’t tell me?”

  “No more secrets.” He bends forward, forearms on his spread knees, and stares at the lake, seemingly gathering his thoughts.

  His breath releases in white clouds, his black leather jacket unzipped and hanging open. Isn’t he cold? I feel an aching need to share the blanket, but I don’t move. He cheated on me, and the pain that would come with touching him and smelling his familiar scent would be my undoing.

  I miss him. Goddammit, I fucking love him, and it’s such a hopeless, miserable feeling. He’s right here, close enough to hold tight and breathe in, yet the only thing we’re capable of sharing is strained silence.

  My lungs burn, surging all the bitterness from the past five weeks to the surface. “When did you sleep with her?”

  He moves so fast my heart stops. In a heartbeat, he kneels before me with his hands braced on the bench on either side of my hips.

  “You tell me.” His eyes are as bare and smoky as the sky. “Look at me and tell me when I fucked that woman.”

  “I don’t know! I tried to get that answer at the penthouse.” My chin quivers. “I asked if it happened while we were together and you…you just glared at me.” I lean back. “Like you’re doing right now.”

  “Because you know the goddamn answer!” He slams a fist on the bench beside me, his enraged voice echoing across the lake. “Look at me. Look hard, Danni, and listen to your heart. Do you honestly believe I would cheat on you?”

  The hurt in his eyes is tactile, his face lined and heartbroken. His inconsolable expression suggests weeks of suffering, sleepless nights, and soul-deep disappointment. I feel every tired crease and dark circle like a punch in the heart. As hard as I search, I don’t find a trace of guilt or collusion. He just looks…wrecked.

  A warm bud of hope blooms in my chest, followed instantly by the hard stab of shame. He stares at me like he’s the one who’s been betrayed. Like I’m the betrayer.

  A flood of tears terrorizes my airway, and I gulp down the cry that tries to escape.

  “In the five years I’ve known you—” I choke, devastated and nauseous. “You’ve been undeniably committed and loyal to me.”

  “That’s right.” He reads my eyes, waiting for me to continue.

  “Goddammit, Cole. Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice spikes with confusion and anger. “You could’ve explained it and told me—”

  “I can’t.” He pushes off the bench and launches to his feet. “I can’t prove it, and you know what? Fuck you, Danni, because I shouldn’t have to.”

  I choke at the force of his rage and hunch deeper into the blanket.

 
Pacing to the edge of the dock, he speaks quietly with his back to me. “You know me. You fucking know I’d rather cut myself open than so much as look at another woman.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket, gazing out at the dark lake. “It kills me that you so quickly believed the worst in me.”

  “I didn’t want to believe it.” My spine snaps straight, bristling with defensiveness. “But the last few months left me feeling so damn naive I stopped trusting my instincts. When I saw the photos, the proof was right there in black and white, and you said nothing.”

  “It was nothing!” he bellows and spins to face me. “It was another lifetime, another place, a mistake I made before I met you.” His expression falls, his voice broken. “I would never cheat on you. Not for the job. Not even to save my own life.”

  The sincerity in his words molds around my heart and constricts it mercilessly. Another sob crawls up, and I cover my mouth, muffling the horrible noise.

  I judged and convicted him without thought or examination. His innocence is all over his face, his unblinking eyes, and the strength of his posture. It’s been there all along.

  We stare at each other through the shadows, separated by five feet and a bottomless well of regret. He fucked up by not communicating, and I made it a thousand times worse by giving up on him.

  I thought I was doing the brave thing by dropping the hammer and running away. I thought it was the right thing. But as it turns out, I didn’t just hurt myself. I hurt a man who has only ever protected and loved me.

  I should’ve stayed at the penthouse that day and let him explain. It’s the least I could’ve done after sleeping with his best friend and digging the blade of jealousy deeper and deeper.

  Cole isn’t a cheater. I am. Those are the truths I conveniently ignored to convince myself to walk away.

  “What I did is unforgivable.” I wipe the tears from my face and slow my breathing. “You must think I’m a hypocritical piece of shit.”

  “Don’t—”

  “Let me finish.” I suck in a breath. “I took one look at those photos and used it as ammo to leave you. The woman, the dead body, the cameras—it was all excuses to avoid the decision I couldn’t make. I couldn’t choose between you, and those photos gave me the coward’s way out.”