"So why even risk this thing with me if it puts her in danger?"
He turns back toward me and I twist so that I'm facing him again.
"Because I tried to fight this, I tried to fight you, but I've come to realize that some battles aren't ones that I can win, and staying away from you was one of those. It just means that, while you might be able to be open about your relationships with the others, anything with me has to stay in this house. Outside of these four walls, we need to be what the world expects us to be, at least until I can figure out a way to make sure that she's safe forever."
I nod, accepting his words as reality because I know that if I was in his position I would be putting Iris first too, so I can't fault him for doing the same with Katy.
It also takes some of the sting out of the things that he has said and done to me up to this point. Because again, if I were him, I would have iced me out too, if it meant protecting her.
"You do what you have to do to keep her safe. Whatever this is, can wait."
He smiles at me sadly before tucking some hair behind my ear. "I don't want to have to wait. You're everything I've ever wanted. But if I've been able to wait this long, I figure we should be able to hold out a little longer. Right?"
"Right," I say with a nod, and he leans forward, kissing me gently. Once he pulls back, I rest my head on his chest and he wraps me into his arms, holding me tight against him as we lie in the bed.
I'm not sure how long we lie there in the dark in silence but when his phone starts to ring, I know that whatever sort of peace bubble we might have just found is shattered, at least for the rest of the day.
He glances at the screen and drags a hand down his face. "It's my dad again, I need to take this."
I shimmy away from him, giving him the space to leave. He leans forward and kisses me again before stroking a thumb down my cheek. "Just know that I'm in this, Briar, even if it doesn't seem like it, even if it doesn't look like it. I am in this. I just need to get this other shit wrapped up first."
The call ends and moments later starts ringing again. He lets out a frustrated groan and kisses my forehead before turning and leaving the room, leaving me alone in the silence and darkness.
We might have a lot going on, but something inside me tells me that if the five of us stick together through everything, we'll work it all out.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
BRIAR
It's been three days since I was pulled out of my class for Contemporary World Literature and dragged into the police station, yet I still haven't dared to get the truth from my mom.
Except today is the day that I have to do that, because I can't keep putting it off. I know the truth of it, deep down, but I refuse to accept it until I hear it from her and find out why she lied to me for so long.
I also want to know if my dad knows, and if that's why he left me with her. Because the self-worth issues and spiraling I did when he took off and left me behind were for nothing, if that's the truth of it. Not that it makes what he did any better, but at least if I'd have known, maybe I wouldn't have suffered so much.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, which feels like almost a default setting for me at this point. The guys are all downstairs and they've checked in on me repeatedly throughout the morning, but I just can't find the willpower to crawl out of my hole. I feel myself teetering on the edge of the deep, dark spiral that I've never dared to allow myself to look at too closely for fear of falling. But if there was ever going to be a time, I feel like with everything that's happened since Thanksgiving, these events are going to be the things that finally push me over the edge.
But if I go down that rabbit hole, I have no idea how I'm gonna pull myself back out of it.
So instead of thinking about that, I lie and I stare and I try to distract myself from the realities around me.
What I hate the most is that I can't distract myself with a book right now because every book I pick up, I put down. It's as if the drama and angst in my own life has muted the effectiveness of escaping into the pages of someone else’s drama and angst, and that pisses me off almost more than anything else. I also can't draw. There's zero joy in it for me right now. So I have no outlets, no escapes. All I can do is lie here and stare at the ceiling.
After playing the back and forth game, I grab my phone and text my mom to see if she’s home today. Her response comes in quickly, letting me know that she is, and I have a small tantrum in the bed, banging my hands and feet on the mattress, letting out a groan, mostly because I really don't want to move and I'd rather stick my head in the sand than deal with all of this.
Instead, I roll out of bed and head toward my bathroom, because I know deep down that there isn't any escaping this, not really. This is going to have to be one of those things that I have to run at head first and deal with.
Just like I did with Iris.
Just like I did with everything that has tried to haunt me my entire life.
I've never been the type to climb up and over obstacles; I've been the run-straight-through-it kind of girl and this isn't going to be any different. Despite my willingness to just skirt around it for the last couple of days.
The guys have been great and haven't mentioned anything, but I did go downstairs yesterday and drop the file that the twins’ dad had on me on the island in the kitchen while they were eating breakfast, before turning around and coming back upstairs to hide away in my bedroom.
I have no doubt they had access to that file since before they even knew me, but this feels like taking back a little piece of control. Because I gave them the file this time. I don't know what they knew before, exactly, outside of what I've told them, but that file covers my entire life and it seems easier for them to read it than for me to have to relive it and tell them everything that I've been through.
I know they read it, because the twins came and sat with me last night in my pit of silence and despair. They said nothing, just laid with me in the quiet darkness, letting me know that I wasn't alone.