I turned my head to catch the sun and the light breeze against my skin. I loved living in Torquay, loved the salty air and the relaxed atmosphere. In the summer, it had been filled with tourists. Now the crowds had died down and a sense of tranquillity descended. “You know, I had no idea this was a café when I first saw it.” He’d brought me to this beautiful café that was inside an old weatherboard home not far from the Esplanade apartment. The air was fresh, almost icy, but we’d opted to sit outside nonetheless.

“They’ve got good food, and since breakfast got so thoroughly destroyed, I thought we could do with a change of scenery and some fresh air,” Sam said, picking up the salt from the table, shaking a little in his hand and tossing it over his shoulder.

“That was a bit messed up, huh? Do you think everyone will work it out?”

He shrugged. “Eventually. Maybe. I don’t know this time. Nate’s never been this bad.”

“Do you blame Holland too?”

He met my eyes and squinted. “No. I blame Nate. He’s not thinking right.”

“Because he’s crazy from love, right?”

His jaw tightened a little and he nodded before looking away, watching a couple trying to walk a big excited dog along the seaside pathway. I took that as a sign that the conversation was over. Just as well, since I’d dwelled on that topic far too much of late. I needed to give my mind a break. There was so much more going on around me than my fairy-tale dreaming.

With my stomach rumbling, I looked toward the entrance in the hopes our meals we being brought out. No such luck,I settled on watching a little red-headed girl on the playground where several other kids were running amok. She was yelling for her brother to help her climb a ladder. He jumped down and struggled to lift her, pushing on her butt until she made it safely on the landing. The sight made me smile.

Sam reached over and took my hand. “One day,” he said, his thumb moving over my knuckles. He was watching me watch the kids, a topic we hadn’t discussed much since he learned of my condition. I felt a pang where my womb was. When did I start wanting them so much?

“You know, I thought I had grown used to the idea of a life without children,” I started, smiling a little when the girl squealed as her brother took her down the slide. “Now I find myself looking at them and wondering what it would be like.”

“Is this your way of saying you want them now?”

“You know, I don’t know. I’m certainly thinking about it more. But am I thinking about it because I know you want them and I’m a people pleaser or because I finally have the opportunity? It’s hard to get my mind straight sometimes.” Holland’s words from the night before taunted me. Jasmine 2.0 I was trying to be happy, but now I was really confused.

“That’s why we’re going to wait until you’re one hundred percent sure that kids are what you want. We both need to be on the same page when the time comes.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving his fingers a squeeze. “I appreciate that. But it doesn’t change the fact that my clock is ticking. I don’t have a lot of time to decide, and the longer we leave it, the harder it’s going to be. Back when I had my initial testing done, the doctors had no idea what my chances would be. They said I’d need further testing when the time came, and that time has never come until now. My insides could be a black hole of nothingness for all I know.”

“I’m sorry, peaches,” Sam said, his voice so soft it hurt a little to hear.

I lifted my brow at his apology, so against the grain.

“I know, I said the forbidden word.” He smiled. “But it’s true. We haven’t really talked about it much, but I really am sorry that your mother did this to you. Drugs are messed up. Jazz has always been dead against them.”

“She said you were using when you got busted.” I said the words carefully, hoping we were at a point where he wouldn’t launch into attack mode over something he felt I shouldn’t know.

Thankfully, he nodded and looked down at our joined hands. “Coke mainly. A little dope to take the edge off when it was hard to come down. It’s not a period of my life I’m proud of, and I haven’t touched the stuff since. I’m fully behind the anti-drug stance the Cartwrights take now. They might be easy money, but they’re risky, and they ruin people’s lives. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“What about Nate?” I asked, thinking back to the morning’s outburst and Jasmine’s comments.

Sam shook his head. “He plays his own game, chases his own demons. I try to stay out of it as much as I can.”

“But he’s involved, isn’t he?”

Sam nodded.

“In what way? Jasmine said something about crops and flowers.”

Sam nodded slowly. He wasn’t giving me any extra information, but he wasn’t going to stop me from putting it all together myself.

“The only flower I can think of is those opium flowers—poppies, right? Is that what he’s growing?” I kept my voice really low so no one else would hear.

Sam licked his lips, closed his eyes for a moment and then gave me the smallest of nods.

“He supplies the people who make it?”

Another nod.

Jesus.

I sat back in my seat on a gasp, feeling as though the air had been knocked out of me. Despite the fact that I wasn’t currently getting along with Holland, I still cared about her, about her wellbeing, and I worried about her all alone with Nate most of the time. Before now, I’d been worried because I kept seeing signs of aggression, but now I knew he was involved with drug dealers—as a supplier, no less. Was Nate insane dragging her into this? How selfish could one person be?

I closed my eyes as the revelation hit me. Holland had dragged me into this without giving my safety a second thought. Looked like Nate and Holland were perfect for each other.

“Tell me something funny,” I said releasing the tension in my breath as I opened my eyes. “I need to clear my head and focus on everything that’s good. I don’t need their shit anymore.” I touched my hands to the side of my head and mimed pulling away the bad energy. I’d never tried it before, but it felt like a great way to change my thought process.

Sam smiled and relaxed his shoulders. “OK. You want a joke?”

“Sure.”

“You’ve probably heard it, but here goes. So Superman is flying about, on his way to save the world, when he looks down. Wonder Woman is lying on the beach with nothing on—completely starkers.”

I wiggled my brows. “Raunchy. Go on.”

“Well, he sees her and he thinks, ‘Hmm, I wouldn’t mind myself a piece of that.’” This was definitely working, I was already starting to giggle. “He doesn’t have much time, but he can’t resist. So he flies down there, does her lightning fast, then flies away to continue his mission. It happened so fast that Wonder Woman only sees a blur. She sits up and says, ‘What the hell was that?’ Then the invisible man shakes his head and goes, ‘I don’t know, but for some reason my arsehole is really sore.’” His lips twitched as he delivered the punchline.

“Oh my God!” I laughed, loving the lightness taking over in my chest. I wanted more of that, to focus on joy. “Do you know any more?”

He grinned. “I know plenty.”

And that’s how we spent the rest of our morning.

* * *

“What the hell?” Sam lifted his head from the shot he was lining up on the pool table. We’d spent most of our day out of the house, exploring the town and discovering places even Sam as a local didn’t know about. We’d been tempted to be selfish and spend the night at the apartment, but that wasn’t how our family operated. When shit went down, we banded together. Jasmine was going to need us, and we’d done our best to keep her distracted until she decided to have an early night. Now we were hanging out in the rumpus room having a few drinks.

“Did someone just come through the front door?” I moved slightly to try and look down the hall. It wasn’t exactly a straight shot, but I’d be able to see if someone was coming our way.

I was expecting it to be Kris or Abbot. They’d gone out about an hour ago, saying they had a couple ‘sweeties’ to meet, so I wasn’t expecting to see them until morning. But hook-ups didn’t always go according to plan.

“Um, Sam?” I took a step back, shifting until I was behind him. The arrival wasn’t one of the twins, it was Nate. And he looked pissed.

“Where is she?” he demanded, not making eye contact with either of us, rather walking around the marble-topped bar and digging around in the cabinet. He came out with a bottle of tequila, pulled off the cap and chugged back as much as he could before his body forced him to gag.

Sam frowned. “Holland? She left with you, brother.”

“I fucking know that. Where’s Jasmine?” he growled, sucking air through his teeth before taking to the bottle again.

“Where’s Holland?” I demanded, finding my voice in my fear. He was alone and aggressive. He’d left out of his mind. What has he done to her?

“Gone,” he said, his lips wet from the speed he was drinking. “Left me. That’s why I need Jasmine.” He lifted his head and yelled at the roof. “To tell her the good news.”

“I’m guessing she knows about your flowers?” I asked.

“I showed them to her. That’s when she….” Nate paused and looked at the bottle. It was almost full when he started, and now there was only an inch of liquid left. After a moment of study, he opened his eyes wide and shook his head a little, the alcohol obviously taking hold.

“Left?” Sam finished for him.

“Bingo!” Nate pointed in Sam’s direction and winked. “Drugs were her deal-breaker. Now she knows and she’s gone.” He yelled at the ceiling again. “Jasmine should be down here celebrating with me!”

“Jasmine’s pissed at you for ruining her china.”

Nate frowned as he took another swig. “Of course she is. Stuff was always more important. That’s why we’re all fucking criminals, right? Taking is easier than earning?” He was still yelling, trying to lure Jasmine down the stairs.

Finishing the bottle, he worked his jaw, his mouth downturned as he warred with the emotions coursing through his mind and body. In his own way, he truly loved Holland. No one behaved the way he had since meeting her without that strong emotion. Losing her was destroying him—a blind person could see that. “No Jasmine? She doesn’t want to revel in the success of her plan? Let’s see if she’d start to give a fuck if I break her precious house.” On the final word, he hurled the empty bottle across the room into the glass sliding doors. They shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, then dropped to the ground both inside and out. Miraculously, the bottle was still intact.

“What the fuck is going on?” Toby demanded, hurtling down the stairs. He skidded to a stop the moment he spotted Nate and saw the glass all over the floor. He was only wearing a pair of boxers and had no shoes.

“Toby!” Nate yelled with false cheer. “I have wonderful news for you. Holland is single again. The downside is that Jasmine will never let you have her, and even if she did, you’d be nothing more than a stand-in for me, and you’d be a poor one at that.”

“You are out of line,” I yelled when Toby just clenched his jaw and stayed silent. I didn’t care how distraught Nate was, he didn’t get to treat his family like that.

“Peaches, leave it,” Sam warned, placing his hand on my arm to keep me back when I started moving forward.

“No. He doesn’t get to treat you all like shit just because he’s hurting. Your wife left you, boo-fucking-hoo. None of us made her leave. She chose that on her own because you obviously fucked up with whatever druggie bullshit you’ve gotten yourself into. Yelling at your brothers, blaming your mother—none of that is going to fix it for you because at the end of the day, growing those flowers was your decision. You fucked up, Nate. You caused all of this. Question is what are you going to do to fix it?”

The room was so silent you could hear everyone’s heartbeats. Nate just glared as we all stared. Then Sam stepped forward. “I think maybe you need to lie down, brother.”

Nate blinked twice, rocked unsteadily and then frowned. Jasmine appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s with all the shouting?” she asked, still looking half-asleep. She took fairly strong sleeping pills and wasn’t easy to rouse. “Nate?” She frowned.

“Holland left,” I told her when it looked like no one else would.

She walked carefully around the glass. “Can’t say I’m surprised. She was never going to be one of us.”

“That’s your fucking problem, isn’t it?” Nate slurred. “No one’s ever good enough. Everyone is forever proving their fucking loyalty.” He stopped talking abruptly, clamping him mouth shut as a frown creased his brow.

Oh no.

Seeming to get control, Nate turned his attention back to Jasmine, shuffled slightly and then opened his mouth to speak. Except it wasn’t words that came out but a torrent of alcohol and everything he’d put in his mouth that day. Possibly the day before, also.

I clapped my hand over my mouth and dry-heaved.

“That shit is messed up,” Sam said, watching with wide eyes.

“Get him in the guest room, in the shower,” Jasmine commanded, suddenly very awake and assessing all the damage.

Sam and Toby grabbed Nate, being careful to avoid any glass as they directed him towards the right door. He refused, fighting with haphazard limbs as he said, “Need more alcohol. I just spilt all mine on the floor.”

Yeah. And it’s fucking gross.

I scrunched my nose up. “I’ll get a mop and bucket.”

Jasmine looked at all the glass. “That’s a good idea. Maybe get the bin and a broom too?”

“On it,” I said, glancing back as she went to help Toby and Sam with Nate, who was now hanging between them like a toddler who didn’t want to go home. I shook my head. Baby. What the hell did he think was going to happen? That they’d live happily ever after? The idea was preposterous, especially considering all the lies in how they’d met.

So now she’d left him. And if Jasmine was to be believed, she’d left with no consequence. That just left me here, the only real casualty in Nate and Holland’s love games. I wasn’t being let go; what I might want wasn’t even being considered. Isn’t that fucked up?

It wasn’t even that I wanted out either. Given the choice, I might actually stay. But it was the fact that giving me an out was never even considered. No one ever asked me what I wanted. They just expected me to stay, to be a good girl, to jump and hop and skip and do anything I was told to.

What the hell am I doing?

I stood in the middle of the mess, holding the mop and the broom with buckets at my feet, and looked around. I’m still doing exactly what I’m told. Inside my chest, I felt this buzzing. It grew bigger and wider with each passing second, swirling through my body until my stomach was churning and I felt sure that I might vomit too. But it wasn’t that, it was this clawing feeling scratching at my insides, wanting me to scream, or better yet, to run.

Run.

Dropping the mop and broom where I stood, I knew what I had to do. I didn’t run. I walked towards the front door, grabbed my purse and went out into the night.

Like a true Cartwright, I could take what I wanted too. And what I wanted—me, Alesha—was the freedom to choose. I wanted my fucking freedom. If Holland could have hers, then I could also have mine. If Sam wanted me so badly, he’d have to prove it. I wasn’t going to sit there pathetically waiting for him to love me anymore. Finally, I found my backbone.

It was love, or it was nothing. I wouldn’t come back for anything less.