I Do With You (Maple Creek)

Chapter 25 BEN

Chapter 25

B EN

“What the fuck?” I roar, whirling on Sean as Hope’s car drives away, whining under the pressure of her foot on the gas pedal.

Sean’s leaning against the doorframe with zero remorse, his face perfectly vacant. And like he didn’t just implode my life, he shrugs indifferently.

I gun it for him, not caring about anything other than finding an outlet for this pain that’s slashing at the fabric of my soul. He ruined everything and doesn’t give a shit.

Fuck Sean.

Fuck the band.

Fuck everything.

Except Hope.

She’s the only purely good thing I’ve ever touched, and Sean tore her away from me.

Lowering my shoulder, I drive it deep into him, tucking it into his gut in an attempt to tackle him to the floor inside, where I have every intention of destroying him. If I had an eyebrow tattoo like his, I’d be waving that thing like a flag, warning that I’m coming hot and heavy for him. But he’s ready for my charge, and though he stumbles a few steps back, he’s able to throw me off-kilter, and my hip bounces hard off the back of the couch, moving it a few inches.

“I hate you!” I scream, going at him again, and he pops me in the chin, his fist glancing off my jaw. The piss-poor shot doesn’t hurt—or at least, it doesn’t hurt in comparison to the crack ripping open in my heart—but it’s a small victory for him in that it makes my ears ring and causes me to stumble slightly.

“Hate you too,” he spits out. “Too fucking bad I also love you.”

I glare at him, snarling and panting as I try to make sense of the nonsense he’s spewing. “Why?” I gasp out.

There’s nothing he can say to fix this, but I have to know what would make him throw away the only shot at happiness I’ve ever had. Why would he hurt me like this? He’s my brother, yet he’s hurt me more than anyone ever has. This betrayal pales in comparison to even what my mom did to me. I half expected it from her after years of her screwed-up priorities.

But Sean? I know we’ve had our issues lately, but I never would’ve imagined he’d be this evil.

“For you, you fucking idiot!” he roars, scrubbing his hands over his face. “You were gonna tell her, and we both know it. Nothing I said last night changed that, so I took the hit.” He slams his palm to his chest, the sound hollow because he’s the fucking Tin Man. No heart, no soul, only darkness and pain coated in bitterness and biting sarcasm.

“I wanted to tell her in my own way,” I argue, not refuting that I was going to tell her. I wanted to do it with kindness, explaining the very important reasons for the secrecy, not whatever the hell Sean did.

“Yeah? Well, she showed up here, giving me the perfect opportunity to do it for you.” He arches his right brow, which confuses me.

He’s seeking, not destroying. But he sure destroyed any chance I had with Hope.

She looked devastated, and as much as I’m hurting, her pain is what cuts me the most. She’s been through so much and doesn’t deserve to be caught up in whatever Sean’s stirring up, especially right as she’s finding her footing.

“That was my right! My responsibility. I will never forgive you for this. We’re done. Fuck off!” I hiss, turning to leave. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t be around him anymore. I’m afraid of what I’ll do. What I’ll say.

“It’s a test,” Sean calls out, and I stop, one hand on the door.

Glaring over my shoulder, I bark, “What?”

“It’s a test,” he repeats, which clarifies nothing. He crosses his arms over his chest defensively and glares right back. “You said you trust her, and though I don’t know her, I know you, and you don’t trust easily. She claims she’s trustworthy. Said she’s better than your mom, would choose you over any-fucking-thing else,” he says mockingly. “I’m testing that theory.”

He delivers the explanation coldly, but there’s some vital information there. He didn’t take the first opportunity to tell Hope. He talked to her.

He’s not an act-first, deal-with-the-fallout-later guy, as much as sometimes it feels as if that’s the case. Sean is smart, calculating, and shrewd. He’s the one who’s saved us countless times over the years by leading with his head when I led with my heart. He’s up to something, playing chess five steps ahead while I’m stuck at schoolyard hopscotch, stumbling as I try to avoid the rocks in my way. I need to catch up to his game, quickly. Unfortunately, he’s a diabolical genius, and I’m ... me.

“I didn’t need you to test her. I know her heart. When I told her, I would’ve helped her understand.”

“Yeah, well, right now, the bad news is, she failed the test. Spectacularly, crashing in a blaze of fiery glory. The worse news? She knows , and you’d better fix it so we’re not fucked. But at least if she does go and tell the world— ruining the band and any chance at performing you have —AMM will rain down hell, brimstone, and contract penalties on me, not you.”

Wait.

That’s it. That’s his angle.

He knew I was going to tell Hope, violating every rule and clause we have, and he’s protecting me from AMM’s wrath. We know what they can do. How far they’re willing to go. It’s why we’ve been circling the drain on the whole contract thing to begin with. As much as I’d like to say we could lawyer up and deal with it, AMM wouldn’t let it be that easy. They’re monsters.

And Sean doesn’t want them setting their sights on me because I told Hope the one thing I’m not allowed to share.

I narrow my eyes, my gaze hard and cold. “I see you, see what you’re doing.”

Sean scoffs. “I’m not doing shit.”

But he whirls around, giving me his back so I can’t read him. When he drops into the chair, his face is once again schooled into blank neutrality.

“Protecting me from AMM. It’s sweet. Misguided as hell, but sweet.”

“I’m not sweet,” Sean says, but I can see the crack in his mask forming. “I’m a cold motherfucker who wanted to fuck your shit up so you’d get your ass out of this shithole and back on tour, where you belong.”

He’s blustering in a lady doth protest too much way, but I hear the truth.

He does want me on tour, wants us to sort our issues out so that can happen. But he knows things have changed for me. Because of Hope.

In the twistiest of sick ways, he was ... helping me? Or probably thought he was, and his intentions matter. To me. Except that’s not how it’s played out. Hope’s gone and I can’t blame her for being furious.

“We’re really fucked up,” I tell him, collapsing to the couch. We’re through fighting. We have to be. And though we might not be poster children for how to handle a disagreement, our version of dysfunction works for us. It always has.

Sean shrugs, not caring.

“You hurt her and I will never forgive you for that,” I say firmly.

He nods. “Now what?”

“I have no idea,” I admit.

“Maybe start with a phone call?” he suggests, yawning hugely and stretching his arms overhead like all this drama really wore him out.

Or maybe it’s the traveling to my side in a matter of hours because he was worried I’d need him that’s made him tired. One day, I’ll thank him for showing up for me. Today is not that day.

He’s right, of course. I grab my phone and dial Hope’s number. As soon as it rings, it goes to voicemail.

“She declined the call,” I say, staring at the phone.

“Not surprised. She’s probably already poking pins in a voodoo doll with your face drawn on it.”

You’d think Sean’s kidding, but we did actually have someone do that with dolls of our onstage personas because we wouldn’t agree to personal, one-on-one interviews with her for her podcast despite her posting daily pleas for us to contact her. To be clear, interview was absolutely code for sex, and if we’d hooked up with her, I’ve no doubt we’d be named in a lawsuit of some sort afterward, given her absolutely crazed, vitriolic rants about what pieces of garbage we are for not seeing a “true fan.”

Yep, people are great. Some of them, anyway.

But Hope’s not the voodoo-doll type. She’s the walk-away-and-never-look-back type. Especially now.

I call again. Straight to voicemail.

“Hope, can we talk please? I can explain everything. Please call me.” I hang up, already willing the phone to ring because she’s calling me back.

“You sound like an addict begging for a hit.”

I don’t tell Sean that I am an addict. Addicted to Hope and the hope she gives me that I can be more than a persona. I can be a man, in love with a woman who came out of the literal woods and sent everything into utterly beautiful chaos. Including my heart.

Desperate, I try another number. One I got after getting busted out of the Wilson County Sheriff’s Department jail. Thankfully, it’s answered on the first ring.

“Whooo, buddy. You are sooo screwed.” Shepherd drawls out the judgment.

“I know. I need to fix it. Where is she?” Shepherd is fiercely protective of his sisters, and his loyalty lies solidly with them, but I’m praying he’ll help. It’s the only way I have a chance.

“I don’t know what you did, but Hope’s never been this upset. Not even over the guy she almost married. What’d you do?”

I can’t tell him. But knowing how badly Hope is hurting, I push every limit I can.

“I love her, man. I need to apologize to her and explain something.” I don’t add— and make sure she’ll keep my secret.

He whistles, clearly hearing my first words and knowing how much I mean them. “Well, it sucks to be you, then.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

I can almost hear his grin when he says, “No, it sucks to be you because she’s at Joy’s, and Joy’s gonna kill you long before you get the chance to talk to Hope. I’ll send you the address, but, uh, it was nice knowing you.”