“Listen,” says Jake. “We don’t have to solve anything tonight. We’re just admitting that we’re all in this. Whether we want to be or not.”
I stare into the glow, the heat on my hands, the cold on my back, these men at my sides.
My men.
But also her men.
“This is fucked up,” I say, my voice coming out low and raw. “And pretending it’s simple is bullshit.” Emotion spikes fast and hot.Fuck this.I stand abruptly. “I’m done with this. You want to sit here and wring your hands, be my guest. But I’mnot indulging this. Lines were crossed, boundaries blurred. How Max wants to proceed is her choice. But we’re not a fucking five-person relationship. And this feelings circle jerk doesn’t lead to anything useful.”
I turn and stalk toward the cabin, pulse pounding.
Inside, the smallness hits me immediately. The lone bed, the small rooms, and the inevitability of them all coming in after me.
No space, when for once we all really need it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WE GET A late start the next day. The air feels tense. Ryder doesn’t say much, and everyone’s walking on eggshells.
When I woke up on the pull-out bed, pressed between Jake and Damian and cocooned in their warmth, Ryder was already outside, loading the cars.
Wyatt was the next one up after me. We sat at the kitchen table and drank tea while Ryder took down the trip alarms and motion detectors, double-checked the fire pit, and covered the log pile with a tarp. We didn’t say anything, Wyatt and I, but we exchanged a meaningful look. Ryder was clearly still wound up. Last night…well, it didn’t seem like a topic he was ready to address.
It was past ten by the time Jake and Damian were up and dressed. We loaded the last of the perishable food into the cars, Ryder shut down the water system and the generator and did a final sweep of the property, and then we locked the cabin up.
I’m excited to get back to Redwater and to Leathernecks, as if I can simply step into my old life like nothing ever happened, but our time at the cabin has been special, too. This has been a place of healing for me, a respite I was whisked away to straight out of hell, surrounded by all four men and the complications of that, but it’s meaningful and special, and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see it again. Leaving is bittersweet.
“Okay.” Jake claps his hands once with all the authority of a camp counsellor. “Let’s mix up the cars. D, you take my car with Wyatt and Max.” He points at his white Civic. “Ryder and I will take your truck, since there’s only room for two.”
No one questions it. I glance at Wyatt, he just gives me a small nod toward the Civic, a silentit’s fine, go.
When we’re bouncing down the dirt track, suspension groaning, Damian explains.
“It’s just easier if Jake’s with him when he’s like this,” he says, hands loose on the wheel, eyes on the truck ahead.
“We’ve learned a lot about how to manage each other,” Wyatt adds. “Damian and Ryder can rile each other up. Jake can calm Ryder down. We’re used to this.”
“He’s being a dick,” Damian mutters.
Wyatt gives him a warning look. “Nowyouare.”
We bounce onto the main road and the car starts rolling smoothly. There are hours to go. I lean my head against the window, watching the trees blur past in tall copper streaks, and Damian turns on the stereo and some pop music I don’t recognize starts playing.
“Jesus,” Damian intones. “This dude has the worst taste in music.”
But he leaves it playing.
We hit the state line around three o’clock and not long afterwards, Jake and Ryder’s truck signals, taking the off ramp. We follow them to a diner parking lot.
“We should stop to eat,” Ryder says when we all get out of the vehicles.
We pile into the diner and order loads of food. Wyatt picks at his, and then I catch him grimacing, looking pained.
“What’s up?” Ryder asks him.
“It’s no big deal.” He waves it off. “Just feeling tight from sitting up.”
“You wanna lie down in the back seat?” I offer. “We can switch.”
