Decker Bonus Scene
Decker
Bonus Scene
This chapter is a new bonus scene not originally included in Too Far. It is exclusive to Boys of Lake Chapel: The Complete Series
I ease my G-Wagon back into its spot beside K’s Suburban. The drive out to the Ferguson cabin on the other side of Beech Mountain was easy. The drive home—alone, without Hunter in the passenger seat to distract me—was significantly less enjoyable.
There’s been a shift there, though. Hunter and I go way back, but I no longer assume automatic loyalty from her. Based on the way she carefully chose her words and navigated around certain topics, I assume she knows everything.
She and Josephine talked and laughed and spoke in hushed whispers for hours. Then there was the call from my credit card company this afternoon, seeking authorization for the flurry of charges that had been placed.
I approved them all without question.
What’s mine is hers. Now and forever.
Though it’s discomforting knowing how many details of my personal life Hunter is now privy to, I’m grateful Josephine has her. And vice versa.
I almost had the gall to invite Hunter to stay the night at our place.
Then I considered pretending I was too tired to drive her home.
Greedy would have killed me. But Hunter’s presence would have put an immediate stop to the wedding night plans the guys made.
The plans they told me about specifically to ensure I’d make myself scarce.
They’re fucking my wife tonight. All three of them.
They’re fucking my wife, sharing her, wringing every ounce of pleasure from the woman who committed herself to me this afternoon.
My throat constricts at the thought.
What’s it like, when they share her? Do they take turns and pass her around? Or is it more… fluid once they’re in the moment?
A dangerous mix of anger and arousal grows beneath my sternum, making it hard to breathe. I rub at my chest, desperate to ease the ache that’s now layered with the perpetual emotional anguish I’ve come to accept as the consequences of my choices.
I check my phone as I make my way toward the front door of the cabin.
Kylian: All cameras have been temporarily disabled, and no recordings will be stored.
Relief washes through me, quickly followed by regret.
Cap: Thank you
I leave it at that.
What else am I supposed to say? Enjoy my wedding night? Have fun fucking my wife without me?
“Dammit,” I grunt, tripping on the first stair that leads up to the porch. Frustrated, I kick the base of the steps, then stash my phone so I’m not tempted to do something I’ll regret.
Like double-check the camera feeds, just in case.
Or log into the backup server, which Kylian wouldn’t have disabled under any circumstance.
I felt ridiculous earlier, asking him to block my access to all the security cameras. If only it wasn’t necessary. The last thing I need is visual confirmation of what’s happening inside the cabin right now.
My woman.
My wife.
Finding pleasure and seeking solace in my three best friends.
Although I hate to admit it, it’s the comfort that cuts deepest tonight.
Knowing she finds peace in their arms—and that she needs that consolation because of me—is enough to make me question every decision.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair and stare at the front door.
I can’t go in there. Not now. Not tonight.
Regardless of how flayed open I feel, she deserves every bit of peace and pleasure they’re guaranteed to give her.
I let out a long breath, then turn on my heel and make my way around the side of the cabin.
Without any destination in mind, I wander along the familiar foot path in the woods. It’s the trail K and I run most mornings when we’re here. The path that leads to a clearing filled with wildflowers and butterflies each spring.
Josephine would like the meadow. With any luck, she’ll let me bring her out here someday, just the two of us. Although it’s a shame we have to wait several months for the flowers to bloom.
Hands in my pockets, I continue, searching for safer topics to consider tonight. Anything would be better than obsessing about the woman I married just hours ago.
I fail within seconds.
Fuck.
Wistfully, I pull out my phone. Thank god Kylian took my access to the security cameras away. I can’t not reach for her. Not right now. Not when she’s where I want to be.
Instead, I open the photo folder on my phone. Photos I begged Hunter to give me. Photos she only AirDropped after I promised I’d never admit she’d shared with me. And only after I’d created a hidden, locked folder to save them in.
Though I’ve scrolled through them a dozen times already, I still can’t help but smile when I start reminiscing again.
Josephine getting ready, wearing nothing but a Lake Chapel t-shirt and oversized athletic shorts while holding a bottle of champagne.
A candid of Josephine her applying mascara, her mouth open in a perfect O as she focuses intently on her reflection in the mirror.
A posed picture of my wife in her wedding dress, one hand planted on her hip and a scowl plastered on her face.
That’s my fucking girl.
She looked beautiful in the strapless red dress I picked out for her. Hunter offered to help with the selection, but I insisted I had to do it. I knew my Siren would scoff at white, and black felt too morbid, even if it was ironically fitting. The red dress was perfect. She was perfect.
Next are two selfies of Hunter and Josephine. In the first one, they’re making kissy faces at the camera. In the second, their faces are smashed together and they’re both grinning.
And finally, there’s my favorite of the bunch: A candid Hunter snapped during the ceremony. It’s a profile of us, standing toe to toe as we exchanged our vows. My lips are parted, as if I was speaking, and the raw expression on my face conveys just how serious I was about my carefully chosen vows.
“I’ll try harder.
I’ll be better.
I’ll hold you in the dark and honor you in every way.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make this the life of your dreams.
I’ll love you forever and honor you in every way.”
Josephine’s expression in this one is different. There’s no sharp glare or jaded scowl. When I zoomed in and really studied it the first time, I swear my heart stopped. Her gaze is softer: compassionate and tender, with an openness behind her eyes that tells me she hasn’t given up on me completely.
This picture is my favorite. It’s also my personal insurance policy that there’s still hope for us yet.
No matter how long it takes, or what lengths I must go to, I’ll make sure my wife knows she’s loved and safe and cherished. I’ll honor her in every way I can, and I’ll convince her to let me be her husband in so much more than name.
She only married me to ensure a future where the guys are taken care of. She made that abundantly clear last night with her pre-engagement diatribe.
“I’m not giving them up.”
“I’m not changing a single thing to cater to you.”
“I’m not sure I’ll even grow to trust you or let you in.”
Challenge fucking accepted.
Because it’s not over between us. I’m finally ready to step up and be the man worthy of her love—not one who cowers behind the guise of doing what’s right, but one who knows what he wants and fucking takes it.
I want her. I want her to let me back in. I need her to reciprocate that want, no matter how much time and effort it takes.
But significant damage has been done. My pitiful attempts at protecting her backfired in the most awful ways.
It’ll take more than words and promises to make this plan a reality.
It will require action.
Starting today, starting right fucking now, I’m committed to showing Josephine how much I love and appreciate her. I’ll do whatever it takes, again and again. And I’ll do it until I’ve finally driven my point home.
I’ll dedicate my life to showing her she can trust me: that her heart is safe in my hands, and that I’ll never hurt her again.
Tomorrow, I’ll take her somewhere. Just her and I. Maybe we’ll go back to the beach. She loved playing in ocean with the guys. I’d love to see her light up like that again.
When it’s safe to head back to the isle I need to figure out her ring size. I want to buy her a wedding ring. Or maybe one of my mom’s rings would look good on her hand.
When my thoughts scatter, I find myself in the meadow. Feet planted, I take it all in, dreaming about the day I come back to this spot with Josephine by my side. But as I glance around, squinting in the dusk, I can’t help but deflate a little.
I don’t want to wait until spring to bring her out here. I want to take action right now.
With a long exhale, my anxiety transforms into resolve. All the stress of the day simmers then settles, like soot gathering at the bottom of a lake.
I take a few more steps into the clearing, noting how barren and empty it looks right now, but seeing the potential.
There’s hope here. And it’s mine for the taking.
An idea forms as I stand quietly in the empty space. I pull my phone back out of my pocket and snap a few pictures to reference later.
This would be the perfect spot for a temporary ice-skating rink. I could install one and surprise her with it. Then I’d have to reason to bring her out here well before spring.
I’ll do the work. I’ll put in the time. I’ll try anything if it moves the chains in proving my worthiness to my wife.
I have no idea if Josephine knows how to skate or even has any interest in learning. But I’m done talking myself out of my impulses. I’m sick of playing it safe when it comes to her.
I’ll try every idea I come up with, throw all my resources into being worthy of my woman. I’ll trying anything and give her everything, starting right fucking now.