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Back Where There's A Will Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. Interlude
  37. Acknowledgements
  38. Content Warning
  39. About the Author

I don’t blame Waylon, I don’t. Not anymore. Not one fucking bit.

But if hurting him with the truth is what it takes to prevent history from repeating itself, I will happily fall on that sword for him. A thousand fucking times over. I’ll piss him off until he’s old and gray if that’s what it takes. His demons got nothing on me.

If tough love is what he needs, I will give it to him.

Even if he ends up hating me once and for all.

25

25

Will Foster

It’s raining again.

A light shower that carries on the wind, spraying mist at us with each passing breeze. Some of the clouds have begun to part as the morning hours crawl toward afternoon, hinting at the blue beneath. I wonder if maybe the sun will actually make an appearance today. Maybe the rain will finally stop.

It’s a while before either of us say anything.

Waylon’s voice is scratchy and raw as he says to my back, “I just wanted to keep you safe.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Dry tears cling to my lashes, making them feel thick and crusted with sand.

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

I wipe the back of my hand across my nose and turn around to slowly join Waylon back on the swing. He doesn’t look up when my thigh presses along his, but I hear his breath hitch.

“I know, Way,” I say tiredly. “I know you thought you did what you had to.”

He sniffs loudly. “I hate him.”

I grunt. “Yeah, well, that’s definitely one thing we can agree on.”

Silence blankets us once more, and maybe it’s just in my head, but it feels lighter this time around. Not so suffocating. Even the rain feels less like icy little needles burying their way into my skin. It’s almost...soothing now.

“Can I ask you something?” he says after a while.

“Sure, anything.”

“Why did he do it?”

I still.

“You said...you said you only dated guys who were, how’d you put it”—he lifts his head just enough to smirk up at me through his wet lashes—“a solid six on the Kinsey scale and proud as a peacock about it?”

I laugh into a groan. “God, I’m such a jackass.” I sigh. “No, fortunately, I grew out of that by the time I got to college.” I frown, backtracking. “Well, at least when it comes to the whole solid six thing. I don’t care about labels—”

“But you do care about being out?”

I rotate my head toward him. Searching his eyes. “Not exactly...I just don’t wanna be an experiment. I won’t risk being...tossed aside.”

Understanding filters through his eyes; the past heavy in their depths. He nods. “Good. You deserve so much better than that,” he says in a strained voice.