Chapter 24
Wyatt
Willow leaves in my truck, and I go back inside the Butterfly House. Tension coils in my muscles, and my banging pulse competes with the ticking of the clock.
Jagger hasn't moved, but it's obvious that he still wants to tear me apart. His arms are tightly crossed over his chest, feet planted shoulder width apart, and a menacing scowl pointed right at me.
I lean against the wall, taking a similar stance. Now that I've confessed to the Cartwrights and let Jagger take his punches, I'm not going to let him take any more blows without fighting back.
And I'm not apologizing for loving his sister.
"You want to start talking?" he snarls, low and lethal, eyes narrowing.
I don't flinch, keeping my gaze locked on his for several minutes before replying, "What do you need to know, Jagger?"
He steps closer, his face flushing an angry red, his boots grinding on the wooden floor. "Why don't you start with how long you've been sneaking around with my little sister?"
Every muscle in my body flexes. I've called Jagger brother for as long as I can remember. I crossed a line with him, and him knowing the time frame of my betrayal won't help him to forgive me.
He demands through gritted teeth, "How long, Wyatt?"
A sour taste floods my mouth. I admit, "Years."
"I got that. I want exact details," he pushes.
"Like we said in the house, it started on my eighteenth birthday," I declare.
His eyes widen, a firestorm of fury. His voice cracks with betrayal so deep, it rattles my bones. "You weren't making bets about skipping stones that night, were you?"
I stand straighter, steeling myself. "No. Nothing had really happened yet, but it's when it started."
"What does that mean?" he demands, more rage flaring on his sharp features.
"I hadn't kissed her. I almost did, but I stopped myself," I confess.
His eyes are red balls of rage as he hisses, "You should have been smart and not taken advantage of her."
I release a heavy sigh. "I loved her. I loved her before I kissed her, and what's done is done." The words scrape out of me low and raw.
He lunges for me, grabs my shirt, and slams me back against the door. He snarls, his breath hot and furious on my cheek, "Don't you fucking say that to me! Bros before hoes, Wyatt. That was the code."
Anger like I've never felt explodes within me. I shove him away, my muscles screaming with the need to smash my fists into his face. But I somehow contain myself. I warn, "Don't you ever call her that again!"
"You know what I mean!" He stumbles a step back, boots skidding.
I roar, "I don't care what you meant! Don't you dare even think that about her ever again!"
He laughs. It comes out sharp and bitter. "Oh, I hit a nerve? Are you gonna protect her honor now? Where the hell was that protective instinct when you decided to use her and then skip town?"
The words cut deeper than any bull's horn ever could. Wrath churns in my chest, black and acidic. I hurl, "I've never used Willow. And you know why I had to go to Tennessee. But it seems you forgot the role you played in that mess."
He grunts. "Oh, so it's my fault?"
"You took the first punch," I remind him.
His gaze darkens. "How long have you been waiting to use that against me?"
"I haven't. But don't act like I wanted to go when you know damn well I didn't," I fume.
He stalks forward until we're nose to nose. "So you lied to me for years, looking me square in the eyes without even flinching while you snuck around with my sister right under my nose?" Every word drips with venom.
My pulse roars in my ears. I state, "I never wanted to hurt you. It wasn't personal, so don't make it that way."
He barks a humorless laugh. "Not personal? You've got to be kidding me!"
I scrub my face and groan. "What's between Willow and me isn't going to go away, Jagger. And it has nothing to do with you."
"Like hell it doesn't!" he shouts.
He grinds his molars, scowling harder.
I lower my voice, adding, "You're going to have to get over this. Willow and I have already proved that what's between us is too strong to fade."
A hint of amusement fills his expression. He arches his eyebrows. "You honestly expect me to accept this?"
I drag in a breath so ragged, it feels like knives in my lungs. "I don't expect anything."
"Bullshit! You think you can come back here and pick up where you left off, and we'll all just welcome you with open arms as Willow's what…boyfriend?"
I shake my head. "No. I'm going to marry her."
His eyes widen. "Marry her?"
"Yes. At least that's what I want. But I haven't asked her yet. She's only just started to forgive me."
His jaw clenches so hard that the veins in his neck bulge. His eyes are dark and empty, a deep well of rage. He seethes, "You know what the worst part is about this?"
I brace myself. "No. Go on and tell me."
"Right around the time you left, I knew something had happened to Willow. I didn't know what or who caused it, and she wouldn't tell me. Now it all makes sense. It was you, Wyatt. You hurt her."
I flinch, the words sinking deep into the cracks of my soul. I nod, gritting out, "You think I don't know that?"
He shakes his head slowly. "The only thing I know is that you never gave a shit about anyone besides yourself."
"Spoken from the king of selfish himself, but good to know. Got anything else to say?" I snarl, hurt barreling at me fast as a racecar.
He scoffs. "Don't turn this on me."
"Just calling what I see."
We stand there, breathing like bulls in a chute, every second stretching until it feels like the world's going to snap.
Finally, I demand, "You done?"
His eyes flash with anger. "Not even close." He jabs my chest. "You hurt her again, and I will finish what we started tonight."
I let out a cold, humorless laugh, tasting dried blood on my lips. "You can try. But you got your free shots, Jagger. Next time you lay a hand on me, I'll fight back, and this is your only warning."
He doesn't move, hatred coating his expression.
As big as my ego is, pain hits my heart. I soften my tone. "You've always been my brother. That hasn't changed in my eyes. So take the time you need to get used to this. I'm not disappearing. Willow's mine and I'm hers."
A tense silence settles between us for a few beats.
Then, in a softer but sharper-than-a-blade tone, he replies, "I loved you like a brother."
My throat tightens so much, I almost can't breathe. "I know. And I hope things will go back to normal between us down the road."
His jaw tics, and he grunts. "Don't count on it." He stalks past me and flings open the door.
The cold air rushes into the cottage, but it doesn't touch the hot anger or suffocating hurt.
Jagger slams the door, and I go to the window, my heart still pounding hard. He trudges through the snow, gets into his truck, and drives away.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, wishing things would have gone differently, but knowing it's an impossible desire.
I stare out the frost-covered glass for a long time. The war inside me continues, and I finally step away and mumble, "I gotta get off this ranch."
I pull out my phone and text Willow.
Me: I need to go to Jax's.
Willow: Why? You don't have to worry about my parents. They agreed that you can stay in the Butterfly House.
I smile.
Me: Are they really okay with me staying on the ranch?
Willow: Yes.
A touch of relief hits me.
Me: That's good, because I meant, I need to go to Jax's to work out. I didn't mean as in to move there.
Willow: You're still injured.
Me: I need to go, sugar, but I'll be fine.
Willow: You need to rest.
Me: You know how I handle things.
She doesn't respond.
Me: Can I see you when I'm back?
Dots bounce on the screen for several seconds. Then they disappear.
I wait, feeling like my heart's going to explode.
Willow: I might be washing my hair.
I chuckle.
Me: You have no idea how much I missed that response.
Again, she doesn't text back.
Me: So I can see you then?
Willow: Okay.
I sigh.
Me: Good. I'll let you know when I'm back.
Willow: Please be kind to yourself.
My heart soars. She's breaking down some of her walls, and it feels like old times.
Me: You can kiss me and make me feel better tonight.
Willow: Maybe if you're good.
Me: I'm always good.
Willow: That's debatable. Did you and Jagger make up?
My pulse shoots back to the sky.
Me: Not exactly.
Willow: I'll talk to him.
Me: Might be best to let him cool off a bit.
Willow: Did you two get physical?
Me: No. I promised you we would only talk.
Willow: You kept your word?
Me: Of course. When have I ever gone back on my word?
Nothing from her.
Me: Name one time.
Willow: Sorry. You're right. I was just worried.
Me: Don't be. I'll see you tonight.
Willow: Drive safe.
Me: Will do.
I shove my phone in my pocket and dip out into the bitter cold. I push against the wind as I make my way toward the main house. After a miserable walk, I jump in my truck and start the engine. I drive past the gates and carefully make my way to Jax's.
He steps out on the porch when I pull up in front of his place.
I turn off the engine and exit the vehicle.
"We don't have practice today," Jax states.
"I say we do," I assert, and limp toward the pole barn that houses the workout equipment.
Jax follows behind me. "You have to rest your body."
I snort. "That's rich coming from you when you almost killed me the last few days."
"Which is why you need to rest now. Go home. We'll restart training after the weekend," he says.
"I'm good. Go back inside your warm house and do whatever it is you do, Jax." I yank open the barn door, grinding my molars as pain shoots through my shoulder.
"Wyatt, it's not a suggestion. Get your ass back in your truck and get out of here before you hurt yourself so badly you never ride again," Jax orders.
I turn to face him, spouting, "I'm fine. I'll still earn you money, so go mind your own business, old man."