45. Vivienne
Vivienne
The stall door squeaks on its hinges, and I raise my head from Rhya’s side. I must have fallen asleep. Either that or I’m still asleep, because why else would my brother be here? I prop myself up on an elbow and blink. My contacts are gummy, making my vision blurry.
“Bash?” I say, my voice hoarse. “What are you doing?”
He squats down beside me, dangling his hands between his knees. “Taking you back inside.”
“I’m not going.” I settle back down against my horse, letting her warmth envelop me once again.
“Yes, you are.” He swats my leg. “Get up.”
I shoot him a glare and pull the wool blanket up to my chin. The scratchy fabric chafes my skin, but it’s better than nothing. “Go away.”
“Not until you get inside.” He reaches for my arm. “Let’s go.”
I shrug away from his grip and burrow deeper into Rhya’s side. She gives a huff of annoyance. “Leave me alone.”
“Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like better, but I called off a race to be here tonight, so if you don’t get off your ass this second, I’m going to drag you out myself.”
“How’d you even know I was here?”
He takes advantage of my confusion and hauls me to my feet. “Cass called me and said Rhya had an accident.”
“Cass called you,” I parrot, as if that will make the words sink past the hazy fog in my mind.
Bash nudges me toward the gate. “He told me to get my ass down here and help you. I knew if he was asking for my help, it had to be pretty bad. Never expected to find you curled up in the barn, though,” he mutters.
“I’m not leaving Rhya,” I say, turning back. “She needs me.”
Bash clamps his big hands on my shoulders. “No, she doesn’t. She needs a good night’s rest without a human sobbing into her all night. She’s going to be fine.”
“How do you know?”
With his arm around me, he leads me to the door. “Because Cass said she will.”
“Since when do you believe him?”
Bash pins me with a sharp look. “Since he asked me to come take care of you.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” I say, stumbling along beside him.
Swinging the door open, he waits for me to walk through, then pulls it shut behind him. “That’s because you’re not thinking clearly right now. Oh wait, that’s normal for you.”
I smack his arm, but he only laughs. “Idiot.”
“Cry baby.”
As we walk back to the house, Bash slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Dad’s going to kill me,” I tell him when we reach the back terrace.
“Not on my watch,” he says, opening the back door.
“I could be dead for a week before you’d notice.”
“Bullshit. The stench would get to me within five days.”
Rolling my eyes, I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “In all seriousness, Bash, I’m terrified to tell him.”
He shrugs and grabs a beer. “Then I’ll tell him.”
“That will only make it worse. He has to hear it from me.”
“Fine.” He pops off the cap and presses the bottle to his lips. “But if he gives you any trouble, you let me know.”
He’s going to give me a lot more than trouble. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I say, even though I’d rather jump into the Atlantic in the dead of winter than tell my father I injured one of his best horses.
“I’m serious, Viv. You have to stop letting him push you around.”
“Easy for you to say.” You still don’t know what he made us do.
Bash laughs sarcastically, and the sound echoes off the kitchen walls. “Why? Because I’m his favorite?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not Pierce.” It’s no secret our father prefers his son-in-law to his own children any day of the week.
My brother and I share a knowing smile, his tinged with sadness. I’ve lived with my dad’s disappointment my whole life, but I’ve also worked hard to restrain it. Bash learned a long time ago that he was never going to get his respect, so he hasn’t even bothered trying.
“I wish I could be more like you,” I whisper.
“Sorry, babe. This is a once-in-a-lifetime face.”
I shake my head. “How do you do it? How do you stop caring what he thinks?”
He sets his beer down on the counter and stares at it for several long seconds before speaking. “When I realized what a monster he is, I just stopped. Why would I need the approval of a psychopath?”
“Aren’t you scared of what he’ll do to you?”
“I don’t think he cares enough to do anything to me. He has a soft spot for you that he never had for Maeve or me.”
My laugh rings with sarcasm as I think about the night of the accident. There’s nothing soft about our father. “Are you insane?”
Bash drains the last of his ale with a grin. “Probably.”
I glance at the brown hair tie on his wrist. “How’s Briar?”
His eyes find and hold mine before he walks to the glass recycling bin and tosses the bottle inside. “Why?”
“Because you’re my brother, and she’s my friend, and I care about both of you.”
He sighs and braces both hands on the counter. “She’s good. Too good for me.”
“Bash . . .” I move toward him, but he shakes his head.
“You know it’s true. A girl like that deserves more than a rich fuckboy. Especially one who isn’t sure what he wants from life.”
The silence moves around us like a ghost, slipping its tendrils into the cracks and crevices of our relationship, doing its best to widen them until we crumble.
I want to object, but I can’t, because it’s what I believe too, isn’t it?
That Bash will eventually break Briar’s heart, and it will be the Ember situation all over again.
Maybe without the accident, but deadly all the same.
“It only matters what the two of you believe,” I say quietly.
He looks up, his eyes filled with sadness so deep, it makes me catch my breath.
“I love her, Viv. I’ve never bought into that one true love bullshit, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this is my one shot at something this pure.
But we both know it’s only a matter of time until I fuck it up. ”
A painful ache seizes my heart. We all want things we can’t have, not because we don’t deserve them, but because sometimes the world isn’t fair.
“How do you know you will?” I ask.
Scoffing, he scratches his thumbnail against the counter, his body all hard lines and tension. “Because that’s what I always do, isn’t it? I ruin everything I touch.”
“Bash, that’s not true.” I move closer, resting my hand on his arm.
His black denim jacket feels rough beneath my palm.
Bash has always maintained a rough exterior, but it’s nothing but protection for his soft heart.
I know he has it in him to love Briar the way she deserves, even if he has a lot of things he needs to work through first. “Have you thought about seeing someone?”
Anger dances in his eyes as they flash up to meet mine. “I’m not getting psychoanalyzed by some freak in a lab coat.”
“It’s not like that, and you know it.”
“I’m not going to lie on some old guy’s couch while he pokes around inside my head and asks me how I feel about it,” he snaps.
“Even if it meant keeping Briar?”
“You’re saying the only way I can stay with her is if I go to therapy?”
“Bash, I’m not saying anything. I’m just asking what lengths you’re willing to go to.”
Frowning, he pushes away from the island. Seconds later, he opens the fridge and rummages around inside. He emerges with a container of wings Cass and I ordered days ago and never finished.
“I don’t know how old those are,” I warn him.
He ignores me and pops off the lid. The scent of takeout fills the room as he begins devouring the chicken.
“Don’t come crying to me if you get food poisoning,” I mutter, pulling out a barstool.
“It all happened so fast, the thing between us.” He tosses the bones back into the container. “I never thought I’d fall in love with her.”
Neither did any of us, I think.
Bash slumps back against the counter and kicks the toe of his sneaker against the tile. “What if I don’t have what it takes to be with just one person for the rest of my life?”
“Only you know the answer to that,” I say.
“I don’t want to hurt her.” He gazes down at his shoes with a dazed expression, as if his thoughts are a thousand miles away, or maybe only however far away Briar is. His quiet sadness scares me more than anything else.
“Which do you think will hurt her more?” I ask, resting my elbows on the counter. “Breaking up with her until you work through your shit or staying with her in spite of it?”
Thirty seconds go by as he stares at the floor. “I think we both know the answer to that,” he finally says.
The gravity of his statement settles over both of us. My heart aches for him, for what he needs to do, the things he needs to face—things he doesn’t even know about. For the issues he has simply because he was born into this family.
“What if she finds someone else in the meantime?” His voice cracks like old plaster.
Climbing off my stool, I place both hands on his chest and force him to meet my eyes. “You have to trust that what the two of you have is stronger than anything that tries to get in the way.”
He sniffs and wipes his nose. “What if I’m not strong enough to let her go, Viv?”
“You are,” I say, giving his arm a squeeze. “If it’s meant to be, the two of you will find each other again.”
His gaze is full of anguish, but he doesn’t pull away. “I sure hope you’re right.”