Only With Me (Sugarland Creek #4)

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Waylon

“ A re we goin’ out tonight?” Wilder asks, walking into my room without knocking.

“I coulda been butt naked in here,” I chastise him, grabbing a shirt from my closet since I’m only half-dressed. “And I am. You’re not.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” He leans against my doorway, folding his arms in a childish pout.

“You nearly overdosed a week ago. Keep your ass home for once.”

“Goddamn. Who pissed in your Biscuits and Gravy?”

“You and Jake.”

“Ah, shit. What’re you gonna do?”

What I couldn’t do earlier because of the holidays, but now that those are over and it’s Friday night, I’m going to find him.

“Send a message.” I walk around my room, getting everything I need for the night—watch, keys, phone, wallet. I shouldn’t be gone too long since I don’t plan on partying or drinking tonight. As soon as I find the motherfucker and take care of him, then I’m out of there.

“I don’t need you fightin’ my battles for me. Jake knows what happened and won’t give me any more stuff,” he says, genuinely concerned.

“It’s a little too late for that.”

Jake fucking knew better. Each time Wilder was hospitalized, Jake saw how it wrecked me. He was aware of Wilder’s history. All this time, I thought he was my friend and he went behind my back.

“Why’re you pissed? Is something else goin’ on?” He holds out his hand, stopping me from walking past him.

Besides liking a girl who I later found out is Delilah’s little sister and a million percent off-limits…

“I’m fine.”

“You’re amped up.”

“Damn right.” I nudge his shoulder with mine as I walk around him and go to the front door.

“Lemme come with you at least. I won’t drink, promise,” he nearly begs.

Spinning around, I face him nearly chest to chest. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t trust you. I can’t deal with Jake and babysit you at the same time, so just this one goddamn time, listen to me and stay here.”

He clamps his mouth shut and I take that as an agreement.

“I’ll be back in less than an hour,” I say before walking out the door.

I’ve been on edge for the past week, there’s no denying that, and it’s finally come to a head. Between Harlow wearing that fucking pink bow in her hair and crushing my heart that we had to stop talking and then Wilder’s incident right after, I’ve barely had time to process my feelings.

But then Jake texted me this morning to ask why I left the group chat. I made up some bullshit lie about it blowing up my phone and being too distracting, but he’s the reason.

Then he said he was going out to The Twisted Bull and invited Wilder and me to go out with him.

I told him to leave my brother alone.

He laughed .

That was enough to set me off.

Driving into town, the street is packed with cars, so I have to park three blocks away. The walk gives me time to get even more heated at the thought of him giving him Wilder street drugs that could’ve ended his life.

I tune out the blasting country music and loud talking, hyperfocused on finding him. It’s nearly shoulder to shoulder in here, which I already hate, but eventually, I find his loud, obnoxious ass at the bar.

Next to my ex.

Bastard.

He already fucked with my brother, so why not go after her next?

His eyes light up when he spots me and he stands to his full height. “Bro, ya made it! Lemme get you a beer.”

Hard pass.

“I ain’t here for a drink, and I ain’t stayin’ long.”

“Why not?”

“I only came to tell you to leave me and my brother the hell alone. Don’t talk to either of us ever again.” I flick my gaze to Delilah, who’s sitting on my right side. “And don’t talk to her either.”

I’m not in love with her anymore, but I still care about her. Jake’s bad news and she doesn’t need to get wrapped up in his illegal shit.

“Whoa, calm down. What’re you even talkin’ about?”

I step closer, looking down my nose at him. “You know what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about. The drugs. Whatever illegal shit you’re in, don’t involve us.”

“I already apologized for that and said it wouldn’t happen again.” His palm cups my shoulder, trying to pull me closer. “C’mon, lemme get ya?—”

I shake his hand off me, stepping back. “Don’t touch me.”

He pushes my chest. “Chill, bro.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” I shove him back into a barstool.

“Waylon, stop…” Delilah steps between us. “This ain’t you. Walk away.”

“It is now since he almost killed my brother,” I hiss, looking at him above her head.

“And fightin’ with him isn’t gonna change what happened,” she says calmly.

“So if the man who hurt Harlow was here, you’re tellin’ me you wouldn’t knock him out because it wouldn’t change the past?”

She visibly tenses, and I know I hit a nerve, but she should know from firsthand experience how painful it is to watch your sibling nearly die.

“That ain’t the same and you know it. Jake didn’t purposely hurt him.”

“Shoulda thought about that before he gave him street drugs.”

Only God knows what the hell was mixed in with the ketamine. Finding him even minutes later would’ve cost him his life.

“You wanna hit me, go ahead,” Jake taunts, then wraps his arm around Delilah’s shoulders, pulling her into him.

Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him intently, deciding if it’s worth it for the few seconds of satisfaction.

“Delilah, move.”

She blows out an aggravated breath and mutters, “Y’all are idiots.”

Once she shrugs his arm off her and is out of the way, I step toward him. “If you come near my brother or me ever again, you’ll be the one in the hospital next time.”

The corners of his lips curve up into a taunting smirk. “Is that so?”

Without giving him time to react, I shove my fist into his gut and deliver a crushing blow through his body. Grunting in pain, he falls back against a crowd of people before landing on his ass, where he belongs.

“Waylon!” Delilah squeals, shoving my arm.

A second later, Jake’s on his feet and charges at me, shoving me into the people behind me. Delilah falls to the ground, and I see red.

It’s one thing to shove me, but it’s never okay to hurt a woman.

I jump to my feet and punch him in the face, knocking him down again. “You pushed Delilah, asshole.”

“Waylon, stop it!”

“Alright, get out!” one of the bartenders shouts. “Or I’m calling the sheriff.”

Jake either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care because he stands and barrels right into me, knocking us both into a table that snaps under our weight.

We wrestle each other on the ground, swinging at each other until we’re pulled apart. When I get to my feet, blood drips down my face.

“Get ’em outta here!” one of the managers shouts, pointing toward the exit.

The bouncer shoves me toward the door and as soon as we’re outside, I find Sheriff Wagner and one of his deputies.

“Hollis. Murphy. Get in.” Sheriff Wagner opens the back door of his squad car.

“For what?” Jake stupidly asks.

“Vandalism. Disorderly conduct. Being fuckin’ idiots.” He waves his hand toward the back seat.

Delilah comes out and stands next to me.

“You in the front. I heard you witnessed it, so you need to come down, too.”

She groans. “Thanks a lot, guys.”

The three of us get in and the ride stays silent as we drive to the station. I stretch out my fingers, already feeling the pain that will be worse tomorrow.

But I don’t care. It was worth it.

“Boys, you sit there with Diane.” He points to his receptionist’s desk. “Delilah, you’re with me in my office.”

“How long is this gonna take?” Jake asks, wiping under his nose. “I’m bleedin’ here.”

Sheriff Wagner nods to his deputy. “Take him to the First Aid room.” His gaze meets mine. “You need to go, too?”

“No, I can wait,” I deadpan.

“Great, then sit.”

Delilah follows the sheriff but glances over her shoulder at me before walking into his office.

Diane hands me a form and tells me to fill it out.

“This is dumb,” I mutter.

The last thing I want to do is write when my hand hurts, but I tough it out and fill in the stupid form anyway. Only Sheriff Wagner would make us do his own paperwork.

When Jake returns, he sits in the other chair, but neither of us speaks to each other.

Twenty minutes later, Delilah and the sheriff exit his office.

“You’ve been drinkin’. You need to call for a ride,” he tells her.

“I only had a few.”

He pierces her with a look.

“Fine, I’ll call my sister.”

Oh, fuck my life.

“Hollis, my office,” he snaps.

When I stand, I meet Delilah’s gaze and give her an appreciative grin for having my back at the bar. I know she warned me to stay out of trouble, but it was more important for me to send a message.

Once I’m in the chair, I explain what happened. He doesn’t bother taking notes nor interrupt me, so I keep going until I tell him why I took the first hit.

“I thought someone told me the wrong name at first. Fully expected Wilder to walk out of the bar,” he muses. “But I understand why ya did it and him eggin’ ya on. Still, the bar’s gonna press charges, so I have to write up a citation.”

“Understood, sir.”

After I sign all the paperwork, he escorts me out of his office, and I’m met with Delilah and her sister.

Harlow’s in her PJ pants and was obviously sleeping. Her hair’s pulled up into a messy bun and she’s makeup free. But she’s stunning as always.

Words I should not be thinking about her.

“Murphy, you’re next,” Sheriff Wagner orders, and once they’re both gone, I step closer to the girls.

“Hey, how’re you feelin’?” I ask Harlow.

Her green eyes meet mine. “Sore, but I’ll live.”

“Sore? What happened?” Delilah asks.

“She fell off Piper durin’ her lesson,” I explain before Harlow can. “She should be restin’.”

“Oh my God, you didn’t tell me that,” Delilah scolds her.

“It’s no biggie. Landed on my ass, mostly. But I wasn’t about to miss seein’ you in jail.” Harlow snickers.

“I was a witness to this dumbass, who I told not to start a fight,” Delilah clarifies, waving her hand at me. “Never listens to me.”

Harlow crosses her arms, amused. “Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

I blow out a tense breath. “Let’s not.”

Delilah shoots her gaze at me. “And I got pushed down too. Thanks so much for askin’ how I am.”

“Sorry.” I suppress a grin. “I knew you could hold your own.”

“Damn right. Coulda fought better than you too.”

I scoff, quickly glancing at Harlow, who’s staring at me, and I avert my gaze before it gets awkward.

“Well, for what it’s worth, sorry for gettin’ you involved,” I say earnestly, then turn to Harlow. “And for you havin’ to come get her. I coulda driven her.”

Harlow shrugs. “It’s fine. I clearly had nothin’ better to do on a Friday night except doom scroll through horrible datin’ profiles.”

My heart plummets into my stomach, and I almost blurt out the same question Delilah asks.

“Since when are you on a datin’ app?”

“I only made one today. Natalie encouraged me. But it’s already terrifying.”

Who’s Natalie?

“You’re tellin’ me.” Delilah snorts. “Men in their mid-thirties seeking friends with benefits . Like, sir…being a fuck boy at your age ain’t cute anymore. Grow up.”

I purse my lips, wanting to ask which app she’s on, but I know that’s a bad fucking idea.

Still, I can’t help being a little gutted that she signed up for one. After chatting to her for weeks and not at all this past one, I miss it.

I can’t blame her, though, for moving on to find someone else to talk to.

“Well, I better get home. You guys drive safely.” I walk around Harlow toward the exit.

“You too,” Delilah calls out. “Oh, wait. Waylon?”

“Yeah?” I spin around.

“Tell Wilder we’re prayin’ for him.”

I swallow hard. She knows better than anyone how challenging it’s been and why I had to take action with Jake.

Nodding gratefully, I say, “Thanks, will do.”

When I arrive home fifteen minutes later, Wilder’s passed out on my couch. He’s been waiting for me this whole time, not that I should be too surprised. He doesn’t like being alone with his thoughts.

I turn off the TV, cover him up with a blanket, then pick up the beer bottles on my coffee table. Once I toss those out, I grab his phone and make sure his alarm is set for work tomorrow.

And because I know he could use the sleep, I give him an extra hour.