Chapter 54 Let Her Go
LET HER GO
KOEN
Now
We eat in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, until Liam decides to save us all with talk of hockey. Briar plays along, even asking a few questions, but when she smiles, it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Briar stiffens at the sound of a phone vibrating from somewhere. Hers. Slowly, she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the device, eyes scanning over the screen. Her eyes brighten and her lips curve up.
She looks up at the table, careful to avoid looking me in the eye.
“I’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me.” She stands, a little too fast, the chair legs scraping across the floor. ”I have to take this.” She eyes me nervously before she turns, sliding the button on her phone to answer the call, but not saying anything before limping out of the room.
I stare after her. She really shouldn’t be walking on that ankle.
The moment she’s out of sight, I stand, pushing back my chair. Both my brothers watch me as I trail her quietly out of the kitchen.
She retreats back to my bedroom, closing the door, but not all the way, seemingly indecisive over it as her hand hovers over the knob.
Maybe she’s afraid if she shuts it, she’ll never escape.
Deciding to leave the door cracked, she moves further inside, and I can hear her voice drifting back to me in soft, hushed tones I can’t quite make out.
I linger in the hallway, just out of sight, feeling only a little bit guilty for eavesdropping.
Whoever’s on the other end makes her laugh, and my chest goes tight. I inch just a little bit closer to the door, trying to make out what she’s saying.
“I miss you so much.”
My hands ball into fists before I can stop them. Who the fuck is she talking to?
Briar lets out another laugh, and I can’t help but take a peek through the crack in the door, seeing a genuine smile on her face, though her eyes look sad.
“I can’t wait to watch you play hockey!”
She’s talking to someone about fucking hockey? Hockey? Her guy’s a fucking hockey player? Really?
My fists tighten at my sides, and I’m really hoping whoever the fucker is plays for the league, so I can tell Aidan and Liam to have a field day. It’s a struggle to resist the urge to reach for the handle. I want his name, I want his team, jersey number, home address….
“I love you too. Always.”
Everything stops.
It hits me harder than it should. Something twists deep within my chest. Part rage, part jealousy, and part a raw ache I’m unable to put a name to.
She loves him?
I don’t want to hear anymore. Stepping away from the door, I stalk back down the hall.
She has someone.
I don’t go back to the kitchen, needing time to process what I’ve just heard.
My body is wired so tight, it’s ready to snap.
I’m tense, restless energy crawling under my skin.
I slam my thumb hard into the elevator button, and it opens right away.
Stepping inside, I pace the small, confined space until it opens up to the garage below.
The image of Briar’s smile is burned into my brain. The way her whole face lit up, the softness in her eyes as she spoke to him. I hate the way just hearing his voice brought that out in her.
I stalk in the direction of my bike, pulling out my phone and sending off a quick text to Liam to let him know I’m going out and to keep an eye on Briar. Under no circumstances should she be allowed to leave the loft.
I reach the bike and swing my leg over, the deep rumble of the motor already quelling the deep-seated rage I feel in my chest.
What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck is this? Jealousy?
I lean forward, revving the bike under me, and making a hell of a lot of noise doing it. Whatever this is between me and her, it wasn’t supposed to matter—she wasn’t supposed to matter.
We made a deal. It was simple—a means to an end. Once we clean the fucking shit out of this city, and she’s safe from a one-way trip in a shipping container across the ocean, we go our separate ways. She’ll walk her way, and I’ll walk mine. Clean. Done. Over.
That’s what I want.
I love you.
It grates, replaying the warmth in her voice when she said it.
My jaw clenches and I release the throttle, my bike shooting out of the garage and onto the street. I hate her. I fucking hate her. She’s not mine. I don’t even want her to be mine.
The engine roars under me, the vibration running straight through my bones as I push through the gears.
Faster.
The city blurs around me, streetlights streaking gold; icy wind tears at my hoodie, and I lean further into the bike; the sound of the engine and wind is almost enough to drown out the sound of Briar’s voice in my head.
I love you.
I throttle the bike again, going faster still until my vision starts to tunnel. The fury, jealousy, longing—it’s all tangled together.
A sharp curve in the road ahead comes up fast, and I lean into it hard, my back tire skidding out just enough to spike my pulse.
I welcome it. The risk, the speed, the pain—it all might just be enough to shut my brain the fuck up.
The road straightens out and I push the bike even harder, chasing the edge, flirting with the kind of recklessness that could end me in seconds, desperate to chase out the pain.
Everything I’ve had to walk away from, all the sacrifices I’ve been forced to make for the good of the family.
The way I know, eventually, I’ll have to walk away from her, again.
The road is dark, but I’ve driven this way enough to know there’s another sharp curve ahead, this one worse than the last. I throttle the bike again, edging further into oblivion until, at the last second, I yank the bike back under control, muscles screaming as the tires catch, and hold back just before the turn.
I pull off onto the shoulder and kill the engine. The sudden silence hits hard. A relief—even my head has gone quiet.
Briar has someone. She’s moved on. She’s not stuck in this endless loop of want and pain that’s haunted me from the second I laid eyes on her five years ago. I’d been so concerned with ruining her that I hadn’t stopped to think she’d ruin me.
The wind blows, and with it comes the cold bitter reality I can’t run from: My beautiful little Rose was, and still is, too good for me. And I’m going to have to let her go.