I knew how dirty shit could get, was more than aware of where this could lead all of us. Still, my heart roared for what it wanted, for what was so close in physical reach yet so mentally far away. Unable to ignore Amber’s pull, I went along with it, hoping like an imbecile that everything would even out, that neither I nor Amber would develop feelings for each other.
Head clear, it’s fucking simple: I loved the girl before that night ever happened, loved her with everything I was and will ever be before I even knew I did.
I stand up, my body aching from head to toe as I stare down into the eyes of a depleted man. Despite feeling bad for him, I need to say one thing to Brock. The one thing he should’ve known the second Amber opened her darkened world to him. “She’s not a robot,” I mumble, reaching for his hand. “She never was.”
He accepts my aid in getting to his feet, his hand clasped around mine as his gaze skirts around the room, lost, desperate for answers to something people have questioned for millions of years . . .
Fate.
Not knowing where either of our fates lie, I pick up my gun from the floor, unloading the bullets from it as I not so gracefully make my way to the front door. Between the bar fight with Amber and Brock’s ambush, I’m positive I’m gonna wake up hurtin’ tomorrow morning, every muscle in my body telling me to fuck off as I wait for the ghost of Amber’s decision to come haunt me.
Shoulders slumped, and spirit visibly fighting the same battle I am, Brock locates his gun, his face disturbed as he approaches me. “You actually had the goddamn thing loaded?”
I spring a brow, unsure if the asshole’s fucking with me. “Like you didn’t.”
“I did at first,” he admits, a guilty grin peeling across his face, “but after I got out of my ride I rethought what I was doing. I figured you’d do the same. Guess I was wrong.” He sobers, his eyes swimming in a pool of questions as he tucks his gun into the waistband of his jeans. “I’ve already killed for Amber. I wonder, really wonder, if you would’ve been able to kill for her love as well . . . friend.”
I don’t answer him. I don’t have to. If the wanna test me out? look burning through my glare doesn’t tell him the answer he’s seeking, then the dick never deserved Amber to begin with.
He nods, accepting my unspoken words, knowing—friend or not—I’d kill him in a heartbeat for her if it came down to it. “So where do we stand after she’s picked her leading man?” he asks, his voice calm, eerily monotone as he leans against the doorjamb. “We’re just . . . finished?”
“How can there be any trust between us after what went down tonight?” I’ll live out the rest of my life wondering, hour by hour, minute by minute, and second by second if he’s gonna change his mind and leave the bullets in the gun next time. Trust is impossible for us now. We’re nothing but a shell of what was once solid, tight. “Yeah. That ain’t happening.”
Arms crossed over his chest, he tilts his head. “Really, bud? It’s just that simple for you? After everything you and I’ve been through, the countless times we had each other’s backs, our friendship’s done?”
“Yeah. It’s as simple as that.” I nod tightly, knowing there’s no going back but hating the fact that there’s not.
“Fine,” he says, his tone teetering between hurt and pissed. “After we take Derick out, which needs to happen soon, we’ll go our separate ways.”
And just like that, something else happens. Something that, just a couple of months back, I would’ve never seen coming, couldn’t even picture it . . . The man who’s claimed the title of my best friend for as far back as I can remember, the only true brother I’ve ever known, walks out of my life, the love we have for a rare diamond amid cavernous rocks heavy enough to crash our unbreakable mountain of friendship down.
He knows it. I know it. So what the fuck is the use in lying, denying what’ll inevitably happen?
One of us killing the other somewhere down the road . . .
CHAPTER 24
Amber
BROKEN.
My heart’s literally broken, the very organ that keeps me alive slowing its beat as I write the final words of my parting letter to the man whose heart I’m equally going to break tonight.
One hour.
A single hour remains before I have to look him in his eyes—those beautiful eyes that captured my soul from the second they stomped into my life—and tell him the reasons why I chose his best friend over him.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I seal the envelope, my gaze sweeping over the name written on the front of it one last time before shoving it into the front pocket of my satchel. Words can heal, words can bruise, and tonight mine will do both to two worthy contenders, the two most amazing men to have ever stepped foot into the chaos of my life. Into the chaos of . . . me. Born from all I’ve torn apart, all I’ve poisoned, a friendship is in ruins, its once indestructible loyalty a casualty of my love for them.
I stand, fearing with everything in me what his face will look like when I try to explain that even though we’re a perfect match in so many ways, we’re not meant to be. Never were. Our coming together was fleeting, a shooting star barely seen from Earth, still beautiful, magical, as it slips past your eyes. Though a blip on the road map of my life, he’ll forever remain with me through every unsteady step I take without him over the roots of my future.
All I have, all I need, has been right here next to me the whole time, the man who’s always loved me, having taken the backseat to my heart so many times when I ignored his love, discounting it for something else . . . someone else. The light emanating from the man who makes up my past, present, and future—burning brighter than a billion shooting stars ever could—has seared his name into my soul, his presence the air I’d kill to breathe.