An apology. Pity maybe, but I take it, hugging him back.

He doesn’t say anything, but what could he say? It’s been two fucking months she’s been married to my brother.

Were we supposed to prepare for this shit?

“I’ve been needing to get fucked up and fucked off for a good minute, so how’s about a drink, brother?”

“How ‘bout a few?”

He scoffs, stepping back and we had for his SUV.

He pulls his phone out, putting it up to his ear. “Mac money, find me a honey,” he jokes into the line. “I need a solid distraction and Maddoc needs to be put on his ass. Party pad in twenty.”

With that, we leave the hospital, ready to forget for a little while.

Let’s hope this time it works.

Royce’s twenty minutes turned into an hour. We took a detour home so he could change, but I couldn’t even drag myself from the SUV.

It’s not until we get there, we remember it was being gutted and redone.

The spill-proof leather sofas we had against the walls are gone, replaced with larger, softer ones. The black curtains are now a light blue to match the fucking rug laying on the floor and the fake flowers sitting on the new, white kitchen table.

There’s a small dollhouse against the west wall, a tea set alongside it, right where the beer pong table used to be.

“Maybe we should—”

“No,” I cut Royce off, spinning back to look out the door when the crunch of tires against gravel alerts us Mac’s here with a few more from the crew.

He steps out first, walking straight for us while they slowly hit the trunk of his car.

He moves in for an easy fist bump that I meet, not acknowledge my being gone but nods his head as if to say he’s glad I’m back.

“Figured we’d start small, but I got more on wait if you’re looking for a louder night.” He glances from his carload to the two others who just pulled up behind him.

“Nah, this is good.” Royce nods, eyes scanning around.

Mac pulls a fresh bottle of Crown from his back pocket and holds it out for me. “This is all you, my man.”

I don’t hesitate, but crack it open, downing a quarter of the fifth in one go.

Mac clasps my shoulder before moving toward the group with bags in their hands. “Beer in the fridge, snacks on the table. Stay outta the rooms unless a Bray invites you to one.”

Music blasts from inside the house and I spin to find Royce plugged in his phone.

He gives a dry grin, shouting, “The system may be gone, but they didn’t tear down the walls, speakers are still embedded.”

With a nod, I take another swig, stepping to the side as the carloads file in.

Chloe pauses in front of me, eyeing me from head to toe. “Looking rough, Brayshaw.”

“Lookin’ good, Carpo.”

Her lip twitches and she shakes her head. “Yikes,” she teases. “You’re really in bad shape if you’re complimenting me. Take it easy on the whiskey, huh?”

With a glare, I down the rest of the bottle, tossing it to the side without looking. “What whiskey?”

She frowns. “Suit yourself, but from the looks of it.” She glances toward Royce who tosses back two shots of something dark, chasing them with a fresh popped Pacifico. “There won’t be anyone to sweep your ass off the floor tonight.”

I kick off the wall, leaving her standing there to join Royce in the kitchen.

Within minutes, I’m feeling good, listening to updates Mac gives about the school. Laughing at nothing, swaying to the music from my seat.

A while later, Royce stumbles into the living room and starts dancing with a couple girls, leaving the spot beside me open for anyone to take.

And a dark-haired blur is quick too.

She’s subtle, I’ll give her that as she shifts closer, but the second her hand touches my arm, it’s snatched up by another.

She’s spun around, and tossed against the wall with a hard thud, gaining the attention of several people in the room.

Mac looks from me to the girl, but I only move my eyes.

“Get the fuck outta here before I put you through this window.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Gatekeeper, bitch.”

Victoria.

I roll my eyes, pushing to my feet, but stumble over them, and fall against the wall.

With a light growl, she slips under my arms, snapping at someone, “A little help, here?”

Next thing, I know Mac is under my other arm.

My body’s moving, but I can’t feel my legs and everything in front of me is fuzzy. Only if I blink real fucking hard, can I see.

I slump, but then I’m jostled again, and we keep forward.

Then the song changes on the system, my spine straightens, my feet planting firmly into the ugly ass carpet.

The stupid fucking song she was listening to in the hall that day comes on, and I jerk around, reaching for the phone. I grip it right as the chorus hits and starts fucking screaming about not wanting to live for nothing, but that’s exactly what this life is for me now.

Nothing.

What purpose can I serve without her? Who am I without her?

No fucking one.

A burst of drunken strength hits, and I tear it from the wall, sending a loud screech through the room, before I spin and chuck it at the TV, leaving a gaping hole in the center of it, before tearing the TV from its mounts completely.

People gasp and fly out the door, but I don’t give a fuck.

I grab the empty beer bottles lining the fireplace and chuck them at the walls, reveling in the crashing sound that follows. Somehow, I manage to lift the coffee table that was pushed against the side wall and slam it against the stupid fucking kiddie tea set, ready and set for three.

Him and her. Mine.

She’s mine.

I don’t know how I get there, but next thing I know I’m on my knees in the grass out front, not an ounce of strength left. A scream echoes in the trees around me – my voice.

I lay out, looking up at the stars, but they quickly become nothing but a blur before everything goes black.

Fucking birds.

Their piercing chirps are enough to send my head kicking, and my eyes begin to peel open. I blink a few times, freezing when I turn my head, and find Raven sleeping on the bare grass beside me.

My chest starts to ache instantly, my heart pounding a hundred times harder than my head ever could, even after a fifth of whiskey to the dome.

I wanna move to my side, to stare at her better, reach out to see if I’m trippin’ on more than liquor, but I don’t dare move and chance waking her. If she wakes, she might leave.

She was right, so fucking right. Love made me weak, but only for her.

I don’t want to let him keep you, baby.

My eyes fly to hers right as a tear rolls over the hump of her nose.

She pulls her lips in and more come.

“Why you here?” I rasp.

“You asked me to be,” she whispers back.

I frown and finally her eyes open, meeting mine.

They’re bloodshot from lack of sleep, meek and flightless – not Raven.

“I asked you to come to me?”

She nods.

“And you did?”

“Always will.”

“What if I asked you to leave him?” I study her. “Would you?”