25. Finn

Chapter twenty-five

Finn

Locke glares at me. It’s unpleasant, and I want to fix it straight away, but I can’t figure out how. I open my mouth and excuse myself away from Henrietta Chowder and her pampered poodle and turn to Locke with a tense smile.

“What?” I ask when she waddles back into the line of people.

The diner is crowded this morning, full of people talking and gossiping about the festival and its success. The extra decorations are being taken down, and it’s returning to its normal off white, cozy hangout.

So, why do I feel so guilty?

You know why, my inner voice hisses.

In the days since Locke’s revelation, we’ve been busy. Shane and I have been tasked with making sure Locke feels secure and is able to be himself, while Erin and Bray have been doing a deep dive into Locke’s life, the band, Jason Woods, his manager, and Alpha Labels. It’s been hard to find a balance, but we seem closer.

Or we did until today.

“Bray and I are the same, you know. People think I’m a negative influence. I have a bad reputation, so they treat me like shit. Sometimes not to my face, sometimes it’s just a vibe I get from a group of people.”

“It’s not the same,” I protest. “He’s not a good-”

Locke raises his eyebrows, his expression pure fire. “You sound like a dick right now, Finn. I’d like you a hell of a lot more if you’d stop repeating the crap this town says about him.”

With that, Locke whirls and vanishes out of the diner, leaving me standing there alone, feeling ice cold. He’s wrong. He is wrong, isn’t he?

I’m so tired. The loud conversations of the people around me crash into my head. The stress of Locke’s past, the fear of losing him, Shane, Erin. I haven’t slept properly in days. Bray, I haven’t even seen him sleep. He dotes on Locke, but he’s pulled back from me, and I resent it. I’m angry at him.

Am I repeating their hateful words? Do I mean the things I say? Of course, not.

I like Bray. I like him a lot. More than a lot. I’ve spent my entire life being compared to him and seeing that no matter how hard I try, Bray effortlessly lets their words roll off his back. I have envied him; I have obsessed over him, fantasized, pined, hated, loathed, loved-

I stop, frozen, my mind racing.

So, why do I say them?

Because I have a reputation, and I’m supposed to be the good one, and he’s supposed to be the bad one. The expectations they trained into us, the weight of the pressure, the responsibilities.

Oh, god, Locke is right. I’m a toxic part of this problem.

I turn back, listening to the conversations, the gossiping. Tuning into the words that I tuned out. Letting the poison seep in, really hearing the cruel and cutting remarks.

Has it always been like this? Listening with one ear while they talked shit about him, while I stared at him and imagined him as mine? In my darkest fantasies, he wasn’t looking at Shane that way; he was looking at me.

My head dips, and I focus on a conversation like any other.

“Yeah, his truck didn’t get fixed last week. No, I heard Bray up and just abandoned young Benny to run the shop alone.”

Bile races up my throat. Rage makes my blood fizzle.

I can recall all the times they’ve had conversations like these in front of me. I never say anything. My stupid need to avoid upsetting anyone means I say what’s expected of me. I say what they want me to say.

And I never defend him.

Why don’t I ever say anything?

Because I don’t want them to look at me badly, because then I might tarnish my family’s memory. They wield my family’s memory like a weapon and turned me into this.

And he might not want me. He might find my weakness, and he might laugh at me.

This town and the resort are all I have left of my family, but it’s been feeling hollow and empty for years. But this last week with Locke, Bray, Erin, and Shane have made me feel alive.

If I had to choose?

I want him.

I choose them.

“STOP!”

I’m not aware I’ve spoken until the word echoes back to me.

The diner goes quiet.

“Stop picking on Bray-”

“Now, listen here, lad, it’s not picking when it’s the truth!” Willy grumbles and wipes a fry in the gravy on his plate before shoving it in his mouth. He doesn’t have teeth and his face is lined. Normally, I really like Willy, but right now, everything about his wispy hair and scrawny arms irritates me.

“Yes, exactly,” Eustice snaps. She’s well into her sixties with a loud mouth and black hair threaded with silver. She’s half the backbone of this town, while Alma is the other.

“But it’s not the truth. It’s your truth, but it’s not his or mine,” I snap.

“You’re too young-”

“Don’t give me that!” I shout. “I’ve been full grown for years, and I’ve had enough of this hypocrisy.”

I glare out over all the faces I’ve known all my life. Some are shocked, others are angry, but they are all watching me. The silence is heavy, and I feel betrayed by them, disgusted.

“Bray was with me, helping an omega through his first heat.”

“He shouldn’t be near an omega-”

My temper snaps. “HOW DARE YOU!”

Eustice reels back, blinking rapidly. Her hand clutches her chest as she blinks.

“How dare all of you! Brayson has lived here and suffered under the condemnation of an entire town based purely on your opinions of his family. That automatically makes him a bad alpha? And yet, you’ve done the same to me. My family was good, and you put me on a pedestal I could never come down from. It is exhausting being your scapegoat and your golden son. I’m tired of your bitching and you pushing me to fix your gardens, clean your houses, run the resort, attend plays and sporting events. I’m tired. This last week has been amazing, and I know what I want. I want something for myself.”

“The resort-”

“Is a lot of work and lonely,” I snap back at Alma.

Her eyebrows raise. “Spit it out then, son. Say what you have to say. We’re all listening. If you have a problem with how we’ve cared for you, then say so.”

The words are right there. If I dare. I can’t take them back if I say them. I won’t be able to. No, I don’t want to.

I meet Alma’s eyes and straighten my shoulders.

“Brayson Langley is my alpha. He’s part of my pack. I love him. I think I always have. He is a good, kind, honourable man, despite how this town and I have treated him.”

“What are you saying?” Willy barks out. “You taking up with him? Are you joking? You cannot be serious, Finn. Your mother would roll in her grave.”

“Yes,” I say simply. “I’m going to stay with him if he’ll have me. And you are all going to stop. Or I swear, I will take Shane, Erin, Locke, and Bray. I will close the resort, and we’ll go somewhere we can live happily together.” I pause. “And I don’t think my mother would be angry with me, right now.”

The whole diner is silent, watching me intently, so when someone moves behind me, shuffling footsteps, I hear it, and I know the sound. I turn and find a vulnerable Brayson staring at me.

“You love me?” So quiet a pin could drop. The townsfolk who have raised us both ping pong their heads back and forth.

I exhale roughly. “Yes.” The word rushes out of me. The truth I’ve hidden so long, I’ve denied for so long, can no longer stay buried.

Fear chokes me, but I can’t look away from him. It’s like a veil has been lifted. All those dreams, all the midnight wishes. And here I am confessing my love for him. My heart set to beat out of my chest and all the eyes of Twin Rivers watching it happen.

He nods his head and swallows a couple of times. “Let’s go. I’m keeping you forever now, golden boy. No escaping me now.”

Joy surges through me, and I throw myself into his arms. He catches me, lifting me off my feet as I bury my face in his neck.

“I’m sorry. Oh, fuck, Brayson, I’m so sorry. I was blind,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. My voice trembles. I’ve never felt like this. Not this scared, not this happy.

“Me, too. I picked at you. I was cruel,” Bray whispers back. “Let’s get out of here!”

And suddenly, this town really can go fuck itself. I lift my face and kiss him. I choose him. It’s so simple.

He exhales into my mouth, and all the tension and resistance fades away. Bray kisses me like we’re the only two people on the planet.

Words hover on the tip of my tongue. Bond me. Take me. Make me yours. I manage to keep them inside, just.

I hear a slow clap and pull away to find Erin hidden at the back of the diner, her eyes twinkling as she makes her way towards us.

“That was beautiful. Let’s go have dirty sex and then pack our bags,” She teases. Bray pulls her into our hug and traces a finger over the strap of her emerald dress.

“Wait! You can’t be serious!” Alma protests.

Icy fury fills me. How dare they try to argue my feelings? “Oh, I am.”

“Don’t be daft, boy. No one here cares that you love Brayson. To be fair, most of us have had bets on when it would happen, anyway. You protest too much.”

I blink at her, stunned. “What?”

“I mean about leaving. You have to give us a chance to change.”

I blink at her again. I’m hearing the words, they just don’t make sense. “You’d be willing to change?”

“You’re ours, Finn. And despite our awful behaviour, you are, too, Bray. We don’t want to see either of you leave. So, give us a chance. We,” she glances around the diner, “we can see when we’re wrong. Just don’t leave yet. Your mama would have been so mad at us. We’ve been idiots, and you were right to call us on it.”

I glance at Bray. He shrugs. “It’s Erin and Locke’s call. I go where they go.”

I seize his hand. “Me, too.”

Erin smirks and leans her face into my upper arm. “That was seriously insane levels of hotness, Finn. I’m thinking I need to reward you vigorously.”

“We can share,” Bray tells Erin.

Bray sniggers at the expression on my face and pulls me towards the exit.

We stumble out onto the street, and Bray leads the way to where Shane and Locke are leaning against a brick wall, watching a man spinning plates.

“He’s practicing for next year,” Locke tells Erin.

I step in front of Locke and grip his hips. “You were right, and I was wrong.”

Locke grins. “I always am. Remember that.”

I shake my head and lean in, the vanilla wrapping around me, making my head light. It’s a fragrance that makes me remember home. I can imagine Locke singing at Destiny’s while I pour beers.

“He told off the whole town,” Erin says with a wide grin. “It was awesome!”

Shane jerks his head towards me. “You did what? Are you okay? That’s huge, Finn. I am so proud of you.”

My cheeks burn, and I duck my head, but Locke puts a hand on my cheek and peers at me until I meet his eyes. “I’m okay.”

Shane peers at me and then nods. “Good, it’s about time you broke free of their hold and-” Shane stomps towards me, leans down, and kisses me on the lips.

“What was that for?” I ask.

Shane smiles. “Because I can, and I want to.”

I freeze, forgetting everything, until I realise he’s walking away. I spring towards him and grab his hand. He turns back, and I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. It’s nothing special in the ways of a kiss. My stomach is tied in knots, and I think I’m trembling.

But it’s the start of something between us. A promise. Because Shane has been another part of life that I have denied myself. He’s my best friend, and my feelings for him are far from platonic.

Erin laughs and steps back. She’s leaning up against our car. I watch her, thinking about how she’s upended my world, and I hear it. I hear the twang of metal and see the cable go flying. The Twin Rivers festival banner that is supposed to have come down, swings free. The heavy canvas moaning as it cuts through the air. Erin stumbles back, trying to avoid it, but it’s huge. She ends up near the trunk of the car when it hits her fully into the chest.

I launch after her and catch the strap of her dress, holding her up, just as a car goes flying past.

My heart is in my mouth as I stare at her.

“Erin!” That was too close.

She doesn’t answer, just steps away from the side of the road and crouches down, breathing hard.

“What the fuck just happened?” I breathe out.

Erin shakes her head. Locke is shaking. He’s gone pale and is clinging to Shane to hold him up. Bray crouches beside Erin and cups her cheeks.

“Just an accident. I’m okay,” Erin murmurs. “I’m fine.”

Unease sits in my gut. I walk to the end of the banner and stare down at the rope. It’s been cut.