Tara

“Tara.”

My brother was sorry. He was always sorry. Often, I’d wished he was callous and hurtful. Then I could shut him out, erase him from my life. But he wasn’t, he never was. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he truly loved me, he’d treat me like dirt so I could forget him.

Lance didn’t move as I held the phone to my ear. I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He was a wax-sculpture Lance with dead eyes.

I swallowed. “Hi Bryan.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled, and I could feel my eyes getting wet. “You know I tried to keep you out of this, tried so hard. How did this happen?”

“It’s complicated.” How the hell did I explain all this to my brother?

“Got Anders’s message. Heard from Reb too. Why didn’t you want to go with him? He would have protected you.”

“I didn’t want to go with Reb. I was waiting for you.”

He hesitated before answering. “Safety deposit box.”

“Yeah, I knew it was there and I knew you’d come get it eventually.”

He blew out a harsh breath, but didn’t say anything more about it. I still didn’t know what was in it.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m done,” he said, his voice low, defeat threaded through his words. “I’ll meet this guy wherever he wants, do what he wants. I don’t give a fuck. What lowlife uses a guy’s sister to—”

“He said he won’t do anything,” I blurted.

Lance still hadn’t moved, and I took that as he was still holding true to his promise. That he wouldn’t hurt my brother, that he’d hand me over and let us go. Let us start over.

“What?” Bryan said.

I stared into Lance’s eyes as I talked. “Look it’s… Lance and I met before he knew who I was, and vice versa and by met, I mean we, uh, met, and we…”

“Oh Christ, Tara.”

“He promised me he’d let me go with you,” I whispered.

“Then why’d he take you in the first place? Reb said he shoved you in your car and you screamed. Why did he send me this message?”

“Because he changed his mind,” I said.

Bryan snorted. “Jesus fuck, Tara. After all this, you’re that naive.”

“Please,” I said, crying now. “I just want to start over, with both of us alive.”

“So I killed his brother and that’s it, he’s just going to let me go?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s it.”

“And I’m supposed to be okay with that? I’m supposed to just let this man breathe easy knowing he wants to kill me?” Bryan had that tone, the tone I hated, the one that sent a chill down my spine.

“Yes,” I hissed. “So help me God, Bryan. He’s been through enough. He’s a good man who lost his brother, so he gets how important mine is to me. He made a promise to me, and he’s keeping it. So you won’t touch him.” I ended with as much venom in my voice as possible.

Bryan was silent for so long I thought he’d hung up. “Fuck me, Tara. You wanna know how much blood Reb would give to have heard you talk about him like that ever?”

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t bring him into this.”

“In hindsight, I didn’t love him for you,” Bryan muttered. “Because I didn’t want you involved in our shit. Wanted you free and clear, maybe with some doctor or something boring like an accountant. And now you’re telling me that you fell for an ex-con who hates my guts and would love nothing more than to see me bleeding out in a dirty alley?”

“He doesn’t want to see you bleeding out in a dirty alley,” I snapped, ignoring all the rest of what Bryan said.

He laughed, but it was somber. “Right.”

“I’m asking you, brother, to do one thing for me. Our whole lives I didn’t ask for anything. I let you be you, and I didn’t ask for one single thing for myself. But I’m asking you for this. You don’t hurt him. You meet with us, and you let him walk away intact and breathing.” I inhaled sharply and went for it. “If you touch him or hurt him, you know exactly what I can do.”

I threw down the gauntlet. I’d never done that, not once, never threatened to go against my brother. My loyalty ran far, and now I knew just how far. I’d found the finish line, and right beyond it was Lance.

Bryan sucked in a breath, wounded. “Wow. I see how it is.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Is this fighting?” His tone had changed, and affection was warming it up.

I didn’t trust it though. “No, we’re not fighting.”

“Put me on speaker.”

I fiddled around with the phone until I found the speaker button, then held the phone between Lance and I. He only moved to drop his eyes to the display.

“You’re on speaker now,” I said.

“Anders there?” Bryan’s voice echoed around the room.

Lance didn’t even flinch at the sound of his name. “Here,” he growled.

“Right, so here’s my stipulation. I don’t touch you, but you don’t contact my sister again after this. I don’t want you knowing where we are in case you change your mind and decide to get that revenge. After this, we don’t exist for you. Take it or prepare your shit, because I’m not rolling over for you.”

Lance locked eyes with me, and for ten agonizing seconds, he let it show. The pain, the frustration, the helplessness and—oh God kill me—the love. For me. He let it all show, and I knew it was for my benefit, his last gift to me, because then he shut it all down, went back to stone cold and said in a toneless voice. “Deal.”

Bryan didn’t answer right away. “Really? That’s it? Not gonna fight for her?”

Lance didn’t snap, didn’t give in to the bait. All he said was, “Where and when’s the hand off?”

Part of me was glad. I didn’t want Bryan to have that part of Lance—that sizzling emotion. Only I got it, only I got the feelings and the pain. Bryan would get Lance’s back as he walked away. Forever.

It sucked that all our choices led to this. But this was the path and there was no getting off it.

“After we hang up, I’ll text you directions. A half hour later I’ll text another set of directions. Sorry, man, I know we got a deal, but I’m not about to give you a time and place and set up some shit and ambush me.”

“So you get time to ambush me?” Lance asked.

“Man,” Bryan said, and this was through clenched teeth. “I want my sister. I know you don’t trust my word, but to those who know me, it means something. I want my sister and that’s it. I’m already uneasy about this, don’t give me more reason.”

“Heads up, I’ll be armed,” Lance said. “Not carrying it in my hand or some shit, but I don’t know you and I’m not meeting you without my piece.”

“Same,” Bryan murmured.

“We done?” Lance still held my eyes.

“We’re done. I’ll text within the hour. Tara, see you soon. Love you.”

Then the phone flashed as the call ended.

We both stared at it. And in that moment, I wondered if there was a way to get out of this. A way to have my brother and Lance. Or just… Lance. Was I willing to give up my brother for Lance? And would that even work? I tried to imagine a life with Lance, knowing Bryan was out there waiting for us to turn on him. He wouldn’t hurt me, not ever, but I couldn’t trust he’d leave Lance alone.

So this was it, the way to save Lance was to cut all ties with him, forget he existed, forget everything I felt and knew I’d never feel again.

I dropped my hand to my side, the phone suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Lance again hadn’t moved. He was giving me nothing. Not one single thing, his body still. “Lance,” I whispered, wondering if I was reading him right, if he was trying to find a way for us to be together. “He’d never let us go, never let us be happy…”

Pain slashed through his features before he closed his eyes and turned away. His movements were robotic as he picked up his cigarettes. He unlocked the door, stepped out, and shut it behind him. He lit up the cigarette, the dull glow lighting up his face for a moment before he inhaled deeply and pulled the cigarette from his mouth, once again plunging his face into darkness.

I could do one of two things—I could shower and sober the fuck up, then get this over with as fast as possible. Or I could walk out onto that balcony and take advantage of the time we had left. I knew what my head was telling me, and I knew what my heart wanted, but they didn’t agree. I stood paralyzed, two parts of me warring.

Lance leaned on the balcony and hung his head between his shoulders, hands gripping the iron. What would he do after this? I wanted to believe he’d find a small town, settle down, make furniture and find a pretty town librarian with a heart of gold who saw the man he was underneath and fall in love. They’d start a family and have kids—two boys. They’d try for a third because his wife really wanted a girl, but they’d end up with another boy.

Lance put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled.

I still didn’t move.

In Lance’s imaginary future life, he’d donate some furniture to the local homeless shelter, and his wife would be so proud. She was probably a baker, a wholesome woman from a nice family. Lance would be happy and fulfilled. He’d forget all about me, and he’d look back at this time thinking he’d dodged a bullet—literally. That he’d risen from the ashes—me being part of those ashes—to have a better life, a good life.

As for me, well I wasn’t sure. Maybe Bryan would work as a mechanic and I’d date one of his co-workers, a decent guy, a nice guy, who maybe drank a little too much beer and wasn’t the best at going down on me, but he was nice. I was okay with nice—

Hands gripped my face. While I was writing our fictionalized future in my head, I hadn’t heard the balcony door, hadn’t felt the cool night breeze or smelled the cigarette smoke. But now my gaze was full of Lance, and he was no longer shut down, he was giving it to me again, the pain and anger, and the goddamn longing, and I was sure my expression was a mirror image, because I sure felt it down to my bones.

“Your choice,” Lance said softly. “You want me to get out of your space and not touch you again, I’ll do it, Tara. I’ll do it in a damn heartbeat. I won’t look at you, won’t speak to you. Whatever you fucking want. But you gotta know, for me, I want our last moments together to be like this. I want something happy to remember us by than sitting in this hotel room ignoring how we feel.”

Yes, he was killing me. Tears ran down my cheeks as I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “You’ll have this again.” His body jerked, but I kept talking. “You’ll start over. Go find a small town, make your furniture. Meet a nice librarian with a name like Samantha.”

His eyes darkened for a brief moment, and he murmured, “What the fuck?”

I kept going, ignoring his look. “You’ll forget about me, as you should. You’ll forget and be happy and be glad you didn’t risk anything stupid for me.”

“Tara,” he growled.

“You will,” I insisted, needing him to agree, because maybe I needed that, maybe I needed to know he would be okay. “Tell me you will. Tell me you’ll be happy.”

“What is this about?” He shook me.

“I want you to be happy, and I want to know that you’ll remember me as a mistake, that you won’t try to make this into more than what it was—”

He shook me again, harder, hard enough that my teeth clacked together. “Will you be happy?” He gritted out, his eyes blazing. “Will you look at me as a mistake? Will you move on and be happy and marry some guy with a safe job? Have his kids? Regret meeting me?”

I didn’t answer, because my throat was clogged, my shoulders twitching with the sobs I was trying to hide.

He shook me again. “Answer me!” he roared in my face. “Tell me to my face that’s what you’ll think.”

“No!” I shouted, the force of my voice surprising him and me, as he reared back without taking his hands off me. “I won’t. Until the day I die, I’ll wonder if there was a way to keep you.”

He crashed his lips into mine, mouth open, tongue searching, not giving me a minute to catch my breath or wipe the tears from my face. No, he was all in, devouring me, taking from me, and I let him. I let him until I gripped his face and took back. I clawed at his shoulders, climbing his body until his hands gripped my ass and pulled. I circled my legs around his waist and then we were moving, down, my back against the bed, Lance’s weight on me. He was growling, and I was moaning, and the hotel room was a cacophony of pain and desire and anguish.

“Fuck,” Lance bit off, pressing his face into my neck as he shoved his hands down my underwear. I was wet already. In seconds. From that kiss, and from his big hands on my panty-clad ass. As soon as his fingers touched me, I jerked, and he groaned, long and low. “How,” he murmured into my neck. “Fucking how is this possible? That you’re you and I’m me, and yet we’re like this together?” He pulled back to watch my face as he plunged two fingers inside. My mouth dropped open on a silent scream and he watched me the whole time. I bucked against him, riding his hand as his thumb went right to the hard bead of my clit.

“Take your shirt off.” His gaze went to my chest now. “If this is the last time I see you, I wanna see all of you.”

My limbs weren’t working right, and I got myself all twisted in my shirt until finally I had it over my head, but wrapped around my wrists. He seemed to like that, because with his other hand, elbow braced in the bed beside my head, he held my wrists above my head as his fingers continued to work me. He seemed frustrated until he tore down my panties and tossed them somewhere before his hand was back at me.

“Legs wider, baby,” he murmured.

And I spread them, because of course I did, because in that moment, I might have done anything. I might have held a gun to my brother’s head. Maybe Lance knew that too, and that was why he didn’t push. Why he didn’t fight for me. Because I’d do something I’d regret.

His lips were on mine again, and despite the harshness of his hands between my legs, he kissed me gentle, sucking my lips and tongue. His mouth trailed down my neck, over my chest, until he drew a nipple into his mouth. He bit down, hard, hard enough that I cried out, that I tried to twist away from him, but he had me pinned, a hand on my wrist and the other in my pussy.

“Jesus, fuck, I can’t wait,” he said against my skin as he swirled his tongue around my other nipple. “I need inside you.”

“Then come inside.” My voice was breathless. He was turning me inside out, making me question everything. He let me go enough that I was able to unwrap my shirt from my hands in the time it took him to undress. Then he was kneeling between my legs, rubbing the tip of his dick around my clit, through my wet folds. Something passed over his face, a different kind of hunger, as he continued to rub his dick against me until he pressed at the tight entrance of my ass. He watched me with heavy eyes, and I held his gaze, only spreading my legs wider.

His nostrils flared. “You’d let me?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Your first?”

“Yes.”

“You’d let me.” This time it was a statement.

I circled my hips as he put pressure there, and that was my answer.

The pressure eased, and he dropped to his forearm, weight on me, dick slipping along my core until the tip teased at my clit. He cupped my cheek, and pressed on my bottom lip with his thumb. I opened my mouth, and he slipped it inside. I closed my eyes as I sucked, as he continued to thrust lazily against me without entering my body.

“You’d do anything for me right now if I asked, wouldn’t you?” He whispered, watching his thumb plunge in and out of my mouth.

I nodded, unable to speak and not just because my mouth was occupied.

“You’d let me fuck you in the ass,” he said softly.

I moaned around his thumb and wrapped my legs around his hips.

“But you’d do more, wouldn’t you?” His dick pressed at the entrance of my pussy, and I worked my hips as much as I could, feeling the head slip inside. His eyes fluttered, but he didn’t press any more of his length into me. “You’d fight for me, you’d betray your brother for me. You’d do it right now if I asked you, wouldn’t you?”

His thumb pressed on my tongue, and I stared into his eyes, into the dark depths that weren’t so dark anymore. They were blazing, and they were full of me.

Then I nodded.

“Because you love me?” He pressed.

I nodded again, this time with a squeeze of my thighs.

He exhaled raggedly, like it was painful for him to do, like his lungs were full of razor blades. “And that’s why I won’t ask you to do it. Because I love you too.” Then he surged inside.

I arched my neck, pressing down into his cock, wanting more, wanting to be filled so full I was brimming and at this moment I was—mouth and pussy full of Lance, his body sinking into me in the bed, every inch of me feeling claimed in a way I knew his mark would be on me forever.

He pulled back his hips and snapped them into me, plunging, fucking, imprinting, the type of fuck that was meant to make a statement. He was breathing hard as he pulled his thumb from my mouth and then claimed it with his own. I felt his brand scorching down my throat.

His wet thumb went right to my clit, and he angled his hips to hit me just right, because of course he knew how, because of course he knew my body better than I knew it, better than anyone would. So when the orgasm hit me, it hit me like the crash of an ocean's wave, bowling me over, dragging me against the rough sand along the bottom, leaving a brush burn that would scar, turning me inside out so I didn’t know which way would take me further under or which way would bring me sweet oxygen.

All I knew was that Lance was with me through it, even as his hips stuttered, as he groaned in my ear and pressed me tighter to his chest, as he unloaded inside of me until I was dripping with him.

He didn’t leave my body, probably couldn’t if he wanted to, because I had him in a vice grip, my arms and legs locked around him like I was protecting a vault. I was—this vault had my heart.

He pulled back slightly to brush the hair off my face, to wipe the tears from my cheeks that hadn’t stopped coming, that were still coming now. He whispered. “Love you.”

I mouthed the words back to him, because I wasn’t sure what would happen if I let myself speak.

He pressed a kiss to my lips, and that was when we heard his phone beep. He didn’t leave my body, didn’t have to, just reached for the phone that was beside us in the bed. He glanced at the screen, and then I saw his entire body slump in defeat.

He dropped it back on the bed and pulled out of me with care before rolling onto his back and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes on a muttered, “Fuck.”

I knew it was my brother. I didn’t have to ask. I curled into a ball and pulled my knees to my chest. “How long do we have?”

“Two hours,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He turned to face me, and for just a moment, lightness passed over his face. “A librarian named Samantha? Really?”

And with that, I burst into laughter, which turned into tears, but through it all, Lance held me.

Finally, he said into my hair. “Gotta get up.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, running my hands over the hair on his chest. “I’m sorry but once we leave this bed, we can’t—I can’t—”

“I know,” he said. “This is it.”

“This is it.” I hoped the finality of this hit me long after Lance was gone. When he was in a place where I couldn’t find him, where I wouldn’t be able to call him in a moment of weakness and beg him to come back to me.

His lips brushed over my forehead. “I’m going to get up.”

I closed my eyes. “Go.”

He squeezed me, a last hug. I opened my eyes as he bent to press a kiss to my lips. Then he was up, walking toward the bathroom, and I took in his naked back, his ass, the surety of his strides, before he closed the door behind him.

I heard the shower turn on, and that was when I sobbed and screamed into a hotel room pillow until it was drenched with my tears. When that was over, I got up, and I forced myself to move the fuck on. It was time to see my brother.