Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE | COLTEN
Ifucked up.
I should’ve ignored my dick for one goddamn second and called the twins when I found out she ran—was running…whatever—and had them take care of Taryn since they already touched her once.
“Did seeing me fuck her make you wet? Did you crawl under those covers and finish what you started with your fingers?”
“Yep. And the entire time, I thought about your twin brothers.”
She raided my head with her manipulation and sharp tongue. She knew exactly what to say to shatter every ounce of my resolve. As if she knew the woman I saw writhing beneath me and taking my cock wasn’t Britt, but her instead.
Red flooded my vision when she said she was envisioning my brothers. Each word was a needle puncturing through my skin, the ink leaking through muscle, riding the current of my veins until the image of my brothers with her tattooed itself on my brain.
Dusk covers the hill with a clear navy and purple sky, the color reflecting off the wall of windows at the front of the house. I flip the steaks, watching as the smoke from the grill on the patio spirals up into the air. I’m so on edge and tense that the sizzling meat grates against my skin.
Elena hasn’t talked to me all day, and Taryn has been avoiding me and staying in her room. Jess scowls at me suspiciously every time I see her, suspecting something went wrong between Taryn and me. I’ve been fuming with myself, not wanting to discuss it with Jess after a five-year-old yelled at me.
Eventually, I drove all my anger into work, driving the ATV around to fertilize and burn piles.
After that, I mowed the plots and moved irrigation, and as if that wasn’t enough to reduce the self-loathing, I went to my office to answer emails and check accounts, hopping on the occasional phone call.
My evening ended with me releasing any energy and tension I had left in our gym in the shop.
When I got back to the house, it was nearly eight, and the sun was setting. I didn’t bother to shower. I just wanted to avoid the scrutinizing looks from my brothers, so I grabbed the steaks out of the fridge and found myself at the grill.
Grilling calms me. So here I am, chugging water, watching the sky darken with each passing minute as the meat hisses.
The screen door slams, and Cameron appears beside me with a beer. He lifts it to his lips, a drop of water from the condensation dripping down the glass and onto his hand. My mouth waters at the thought of feeling the hoppy carbonation on my tongue.
Five years sober, and I’ve never struggled as hard as I am now. I clench my fingers around the tongs, resisting the urge to snatch his beer from him and take a swig. But taking one drink to numb my issues could force me down a path I’d rather not explore.
His eyes bore into the side of my head as I flip a steak. I snap my eyes to his. “Why the fuck are you staring at me like that?”
“You want to tell me why all our girls are moody as hell? Bren and I haven’t gotten a word out of them. Tristan hasn’t spoken either, but that’s normal for him.”
Our girls.
The muscles in my back constrict. A wave of guilt washes over me, and at the same time, the breeze shifts the smoke in my direction.
He takes another drink and leans against the pillar. “We contemplated periods being the cause, but Elena is way too young for that.”
I stay silent, my eyes fastened on the meat.
“There’s a letter from Dad for you on the counter.”
As if my body wasn’t strained enough, my frame solidifies. “Place it in the drawer with the others,” I say, void of emotion.
He knew what my answer would be. He didn’t even need to ask.
Cam releases a sigh. “It’s been almost five years, Colt, and he’ll be there for eleven more.”
I grab the plate next to the grill and stack the steaks.
“We’ve had this conversation. He doesn’t deserve a word from me, you, or Bren, and Jess—” I raise my voice.
“And he sure as hell doesn’t deserve drawings from those two young children in there,” I point to the house, “who don’t even know they’re writing to a man who let his fucking addiction take their mother away from them. ”
His knuckles turn white around the bottle. “We still don’t know if he’s the reason she’s gon—”
I slam the grill shut harder than I mean to, but my blood is boiling as hot as the flesh of these steaks in my hand. “Cameron,” I warn, not wanting to talk about this.
They don’t know it, but I was there. The amount of blood in my parents’ bedroom burned into my eyes right before Mom ran out the front door to her car and drove away, with my father trailing in his.
He came back early the next morning.
She didn’t.
And I left for days because I couldn’t face him after what I saw.
There’s no guessing or theorizing what happened—no giving that callous man any benefit of the doubt.
I didn’t speak a word to him the three months leading to his arrest—not that he gave me much of a chance since he was drowning in a bottle of scotch every night.
The responsibility of this family and company might have been dumped on my shoulders, but watching the bright blue and red flashing lights of vehicles speeding up our driveway while I held a sleeping baby Elena in my arms was a pinnacle moment.
Well, that and watching the bastard with his hands cuffed getting shoved into the back seat of a cop car.
I vowed then, staring down at Elena’s innocent face as the cop cars disappeared into the fog consuming the orchard, that I would protect this family at all costs.
I was twenty-two. I knew it would be hard, but I understood I could be better than him. For their sake, I would be better than he was.
This is the reason I can’t touch Taryn again. She is off limits as much as that beer bottle in Cameron’s hand.
Obsessions have the power to destroy you.
Addictions have the dominance to control you.
And the twins may be able to play with her, but I’m the one who can’t afford to fuck up.
She’s the one thing this family needs. I will not obliterate that just because I can’t keep my hands to myself despite how right she feels.
How good it felt when her soft skin melted into my palms. How confusing it was when even the slightest touch made me want to shove her away but tug her into my chest at the same time.
I hand the plate of steaks to Cameron. “Please take these to the table. I’ll go get Elena and tell Taryn dinner is ready.”
He nods and takes a swig of beer before returning to the house. I follow, but instead of heading for the dining room where I hear Jess and Bren chatting, I take the stairs and enter the dark hallway on the second floor.
Elena’s door is cracked, the light from the lantern stars the twins and I hung shining through the opening. I press my hand to the door, pushing it open enough to see Elena curled into— I freeze.
Elena sniffles, holding in a sob that shakes her chest. “Colt sc-scared you.”
Taryn sits crisscross on the floor with Elena on her lap. Elena leans into her embrace, clutching her T-shirt in her tiny fists.
“He did scare me, but he just wanted me to come back to you,” Taryn soothes, stroking her soft, tousled brown hair.
I swallow, all my focus devoted to them.
I’m ashamed. Frightening Taryn into staying here is calculating. Everything we have done is screwed up, yet my brothers and I refuse to let her leave. I feared my father, but I don’t want Elena to be frightened of me.
“But if he scares you m-more,” she cries, “you’ll leave, and won’t come back. Mommy and Daddy have n-never come back.”
I place my hand on the doorframe, hanging my head. This conversation is making me nauseous. Another reason why we can’t let Taryn—
“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Taryn coos, rocking her to stop the tears.
Elena peers up at her, her blue eyes puffy and red in the yellow glow of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
“Promise?” Elena sniffs, holding up her pinkie finger.
Taryn smiles, holding out hers as their fingers intertwine. “I promise…at least until you don’t need me anymore.”
Until you don’t need me anymore.
Those words echo in my eardrums. Because there will come a day when we don’t need her anymore, and she will walk away.
My heart plunges into my stomach, the vessel churning with the acid. The reality is we can’t keep her forever. Eventually, Elena and Tristan will be old enough to take care of themselves, and she’ll have no use here.
She’s here now, and she’s not leaving. She promised she wasn’t.
Elena twirls a brown lock of Taryn’s hair around her finger. “I think I’ll always need you,” she says so softly that I barely hear it over the hammering in my chest.
Elena is attached. Cameron and Brennan are getting attached. So, I shove my emotions further into the bottomless depths of my soul, telling myself I won’t get attached too. I need to tread lightly with her. Around her.
I push open the door farther and peek my head in, clearing my throat. “Dinner is ready.”
Their heads whip toward me simultaneously from being startled. Taryn’s eyes search mine, and she nods.
“Why don’t you go wash up, and I’ll meet you downstairs?” she says, lightly tapping Elena’s back with her palm.
Elena gets up and walks toward me, her glassy eyes looking me over.
My apologetic tone is strained. “I’m sorry, Elena.”
She wraps her arms around my legs, pressing her flushed face into my dirty jeans. “It’s okay.”
She escapes the room, leaving Taryn and me.
Taryn walks toward me; each step she takes is loud and thunderous, though she’s creeping toward me at the pace of the pet turtle my brothers and I had when I was ten.
My arm is still propped on the door, the heat between us sizzling and crackling the closer she gets. A bolt of lightning flashes when she peers into my eyes with those big brown ones.
“You do terrify me,” she chokes out, her gaze not straying from mine.
“But my weakness is feeling responsible for caring for kids like that.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“It’s one of the reasons I became a teacher.
But you already knew that because you asked me about my weakness in that first interview.
And you’re using it, using me to your full advantage, because you knew the moment I met them that I would care too much to walk away. And I think that’s why you chose me.”
The only thing I can manage to do is nod. She’s right. She was the perfect choice. Yet her words don’t make me feel remorse for my actions.
If I die a greedy man who made choices for his benefit, then my soul deserves to rot in hell. But if I die a selfless brother because I put my family first, then I can burn in hell knowing I gave my soul so I could protect theirs.
That’s why I continue to let them write letters—why my siblings are oblivious to what happened that night after we all heard the glass shatter. Their hearts don’t deserve to be plagued like mine.
I’ve kept the truth from them so they would never carry the pain of knowing their father stood before the woman he was supposed to love, clutching a bloody shard of glass in one hand and gripping the neck of a bottle in the other.
So, I am a selfish man.
Taryn is here because I’m a selfish brother.
My siblings heard the fights. They witnessed the screaming and the decay of their marriage. But the weight of the truth about how our parents’ marriage ended is mine to bear alone.
They deserve to grow up in a world where love is worthy and isn’t destined to fail.
Taryn points out the door, her lecture muted in my ears. The hollow feeling in my chest intensifies. I always feel nothing for anyone unless it’s the five people downstairs I’d give my life for.
She glares at me. “But I’m staying for Elena and Tristan. Only. For. Them.”
I exhale a long breath, repeating her words. “Only for them.”
With this pace, Elena and Tristan are bound to fall for her.
Now that I’m stepping back, so will my brothers.
And everyone will fall hard since nobody else has shown them this type of dedication besides me.
Taryn’s staying because she’s gentle and compassionate.
She is putting their needs above hers, though we abducted her and have held her against her will.
Someday, my siblings will grow to understand what that type of affection, that type of love, feels like from someone who isn’t blood.
And just because I don’t believe in it doesn’t mean they shouldn’t.