Thief (A Bad Boy Romance)(72)

“Declan, stop talking.” I shake my head at him. “You’re my uncle and in the interest of family and my mom, I’m going to say this once. Don’t do this job.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Dec, you’ve got a wife who loves you for God knows what reasons, you’ve got money, what the fuck are you even-”

“Ain’t nothing in this world free unless you take it, right kid?”

I shake my head. “You’ve been saying that for years, and you know what?”

I smile thinly at him.

“It’s bullshit.”

I turn to the others. “Guns on the ground outside the van. Now. You can grab them when I’m a hundred feet down the road.”

They hesitate for a second before I press the gun against Declan’s neck, and then they do as I say.

I turn back to my uncle. “Last warning, Dec. You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He sneers at me. “You know what? Fine. Walk away you ungrateful little bastard. This ain’t over though, between you and me.”

I keep the gun leveled at him as I slowly back away from the van.

“Yes it is.”

I’m done.

I turn and start to jog, almost expecting to feel a bullet in my back. But there’s only the sound of distant swearing, of the van door swinging shut with a thud, and of the tires kicking up gravel as the crew roars off to the job.

Without me.

I watch the van until it’s out of sight around a corner. Then I turn, and I start to run.

I run like I’ve been late to get somewhere for eight fucking years, and now it’s my last chance to get there. I wipe the gun down with the edge of my shirt, and as I run down the shore road, I chuck it over the bluffs into the ocean.

Because that’s not me.

My feet pound the road as I run back into Shelter Harbor like a man on fire. I’m done making the same mistakes, and walking the same path, and watching myself lose the same girl all over again. Not this time. This time, I’m stopping myself before the fall, and I’ll be damned if I let myself lose her again.

And this time, I’m ready to tell the whole fucking world that I love her, come hell or high water.





Chapter Thirty-Nine





Silas




The pickup roars into the Hammond driveway, cranking to a shuddering halt as I turn off the engine.

And suddenly, here I am; right back at the house I haven’t been to in years. The place I grew up - my other family until I let them all down.

My steps slow as I approach the big white farmhouse, and I take a deep breath as my feet follow the familiar path up through Irene’s manicured lavender bushes and honeysuckle plants.

I used to live here, really.

This used to be my home, and I know that now that it’s been gone from my life all these years, more than I ever did before.

The front door slams open suddenly.

Rowan.

He narrows his eyes at me as he steps out onto the front porch. His face looks furious as a he jabs a finger at me.

“You.”

I swallow, stepping towards him. “Row,” I hold my hands up.

“You got a lot of fucking balls coming here, you fucking prick.”

Tell me about it.

I shake my head. “Hang on, buddy.”

“Don’t!” He growls, scowling at me as he steps to the top step of the porch, glowering down at me.

“Don’t fucking buddy me, man.” His nostrils flare as he shakes his head at me. “All these years, I fuckin stuck up for you and kept in touch as best I could, and I even forgave you for walking away like that.”

“Rowan-”

“You fucking married her?”

Aww, shit.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Silas! You didn’t just walk away from my sister, you fucking abandoned her!”

He jabs a finger at me again as he takes another step down towards me.

“What kind of fucking man does-”

“Rowan!” My voice booms from my lips, stopping him short as I step right up to him.

“You know what?” I’m shouting now, right there on the front porch, but I’m not even nearly done.

“I was every bit the fucking coward you want to think I was,” I growl. “I was young, and stupid, and scared.”

I take a deep breath, meeting his eye and hoping to God the friend I once knew remembers it too.

“And I’ve paid for that. I’ve changed, Row, you know I’ve changed.”

He says nothing.

But he also doesn’t punch me in the face, which I’m going to count as a win.

“Rowan,” I take a breath. “You’re my best friend, man.”

“Best friends don’t walk away and flee the country, you prick.”

I smirk. “I deserve that. You get why I left, right?”

He looks away, running his hand through his hair. He nods.