Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)

by Elsie Silver

“If you call Willa a girl, she’ll castrate you,” Cade grumbles, yanking the tie off and shoving it into his suit coat pocket. “She’s going to castrate you for not wearing the tie she picked out.” Rhett chuckles. “She’ll get over it when I tie her up with it later.”

“If I was going to be a good friend to you right now, what would I do?” Sloane sighs, relief painting every inch of her body. Like I just posed her the one question she so desperately needed someone to ask. “Jas. Get me the fuck out of here. I wanna go to the ranch.” I stare at her for a beat, hands shoved in my pockets, thinking I’d do anything she asked in this moment. And then I reach my hand out to her with a firm nod. “Let’s go, Sunny.”

“Ready, Sloane?” “For what?” I whisper, leaning on the door like it might help me catch a few words. “To run.” My head flips in his direction. “You’re going to help me literally become a runaway bride?”

Sloane is selfless. She might not look it, but she’s strong. She’s a got a huge heart. A gentle soul. And watching her comfort Harvey right now, I let myself admit that the way I love Sloane might not be how one friend loves another at all.

“You always look good to me. Concealer, no concealer. Fancy dress, Harvey’s sweat suit. Smooth hair”—his hand waves over me with a low chuckle—“whatever this is. It doesn’t matter. You’re you.” I swallow and try my best not to melt onto the floor into a squishy pile of mush. “That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”

Everything in the world feels wrong. But standing here with Sloane in my arms feels right.

Everything from you go girl to grow up and face the music to an utterly charming get your ass back home and stop embarrassing yourself from Sterling. I responded with an overly sweet go fuck yourself and haven’t said another word to him since. Catch me living in that penthouse again never.

This last week has put me into a state where I’m practically frothing at the mouth to protect her, to rescue her—to ensure she never ends up in that position again. And I’m realizing that what I’m feeling is a whole lot more than a brotherly sense of protection. It’s envy. It’s possession.

I know how it feels to lose someone you love, and I couldn’t do that to these people who’ve become my family. I’ll suffer before ever making them do the same.

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t handle emotional situations well. Trauma? I’ve got enough, thanks. Feelings? Too many of those too.

“He included Sterling in the text and told me to do my wifely duty and come home immediately.” She snorts and I silently rage. His face pops up in my mind, and I imagine driving my blocker into it. “I responded with the only thing I’ve said directly to either of them since you broke me out of that church.” I arch a brow, hoping she’ll share her response. “I told him I’m no one’s wife and I don’t owe either of them shit.” A strangled laugh bursts from my lips, and she smiles at me, looking mighty satisfied with herself. “They can both mull that over while I continue to ignore them.” No, Sloane doesn’t need my approval. But goddamn, she has it anyway.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Sunny.” I don’t look back when I hear her soft response. “I always worry about you, Jas.”

I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten years old, and suddenly . . . he’s staring back.

Jasper: I don’t like talking to people. Sloane: You talk to me. Jasper: You’re not people. Sloane: Lmao. What am I then? Jasper: My person.

For Jasper I’d do anything. Except actually tell him that. Because when he turns me down, I’ll break. A million little pieces of me scattered into the wind. It doesn’t matter that my love for him is pathetic and tragically unrequited. It just is. The sky is blue. The grass is green. And I’ve loved Jasper Gervais from the first day I laid eyes on him.

“I can’t ever lose you,” he growls. “You won’t,” I reply quietly, right as the tip of his nose traces the shell of my ear. “I might.” “Nev—” Before I can say never, he cuts me off with, “Because I think I’m about to fuck everything up between us.” And then he kisses me.

Jasper: Bad roads. Brake issues. Spending the night in a town called Blisswater Springs. Harvey: Do you win a prize for using as few words as possible? You guys okay? Can you elaborate? Jasper: I’ll call you from the hotel. We’re all good. Safe. You don’t need to worry. Harvey: Come on. Give me something. One bed or two? Jasper: Talk to you later.

And if I’ve figured out anything in this Shakespearean tragedy of a life, it’s that life is just moments all strung together like multicolor Christmas lights. You always end up liking some colors better than others.

Too paralyzed by my fear of losing people I care about. Of losing her. But fuck, losing someone and having them not know that you care about them? Wishing you could go back and tell them? That’s a special hell. One I have no intention of living in because I’ve given my demons enough of myself already—they can’t have her too.

Sloane is soothing. She’s the eye of the storm. True North. Somehow our compasses always bring us back to each other.

“Why do you have to be so fucking agreeable, Jasper?” “Because I’m your friend, Sunny. Nothing will ever change that. If you need to bitch about something, even if that something is me, I’ll be that person for you.”

“You’re not going back to him.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe I will. You don’t tell me what to do, Jasper.” Not yet. But I will. “You’re not.” She spins, her voice cutting across the room like she’s thrown a dart right at my chest. “And why not?” “Because he sucks the life out of you!” She rears back, clearly shocked by the volume of my voice. “And I want to breathe it back in.”

“Times have changed, Sloane. I’m not scared anymore. You’re not my fucking friend. You’re just mine.”

My body screams at me to go back to him. But I don’t want to be that ballerina in a jewelry box with him. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to save me. I want to save myself.

I thought you were just a friend. But him telling me to stay away? Him telling me I couldn’t have you? It broke something inside me. Telling me I wasn’t good enough for you? All that did was make me want to be good enough for you.”

“Now that I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it. It’s game on for me now. So I’m going to ask you one more time. Do you need me to lend you a hand?” I sigh, dreaming of letting myself give in, even just for a minute. I want to give in, and I told myself I’d start taking what I want. “I’m upset. I’m confused. I’m angry about the state of my life. But I . . . yes, I want that.” He slides the strap down and presses a kiss to the top of my shoulder. “I know you are.” I shiver. “But we can be angry together. Because I can’t stand seeing his ring on your finger.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Sloane. I have a special knack for pushing people away. They always take off. And they’re never all that sad to leave me behind.”

After all, he’s Jasper. The boy with sad eyes and a heart of gold.

“See, Sloane? You can wear someone else’s ring, but we both know you’ve always been mine.”

“I feel like I could crumble under the weight of not wanting to disappoint you. I’m paralyzed by my fear of losing you.”

“How many times do I need to tell you for you to believe me? Before I get to hear it back?” I shake my head in disbelief at this man I know so damn well, yet not at all. “It’s always been you, Jasper. It will always be you.”

“Sloane.” “Mm-hmm,” she hums, still sucking on her finger, giving me blue doe eyes. I want to ask her how it tastes. Instead, I snap. I point at the floor beneath my feet and say, “Lose that fucking ring and crawl.”

“I don’t think I suffer from that way of thinking anymore. Suddenly I don’t really care about deserving you when it’s so damn clear you belong to me and always have.”

“I’ve spent years getting lost in your eyes, Sloane. The rest of you though? It’s all new. I imagine this is what going to Disneyland for the first time is like. Overstimulating.”

“None of it matters.” “That’s right.” His fingers trail over my lips. “The answer is no. None of that shit matters. Because we’re me and you. We’re us. Unlikely and inevitable all at once. We’re forever.”

“Lord help me, Gervais. I wish I could go back and tell my teenage self what she’s in for ten years down the line. She’d have keeled over on the spot.” I hear his deep chuckle, the one that warms me to my bones. The one that reminds me of the adolescent, bashful version of him. The one that’s still a facet of the complicated man he is today. “If you go back, make sure you tell her she’s got drool on her face and that it’s time to get her fine ass out of bed.” “I hate you,” I laugh back at him. But I always laugh at the wrong moment. And right now I laugh because I don’t hate Jasper at all. I love him. I love him like that girl ten years ago never could have imagined.

“Sloane.” His voice is authoritative, and that’s “The Daddy” voice, I decide. There’s a switch that gets flicked and he goes from quiet, aloof Jasper to that.

“You’re a masochist.” He doesn’t even flinch. “I believe a therapist suggested that once.”

“I hate you.” He clicks his tongue and gives his head this little dip that makes his thick hair flop. No hat today. “You mentioned that this morning. Somehow I’m not all that worried about it. You’ll take it back when I make you come so hard you can’t even walk.”

“I’m married, you fucking pig. Now leave.” Theo shrugs and smiles. “Married for now, maybe.” Rhett’s voice draws my attention to the front door. I don’t know how long he’s been standing there watching. “Yeah, don’t worry, Winter. We’re definitely gonna free you from that husband and bury him in the back field. It’ll be like that Dixie Chicks song. Rob is the new Earl.”

“Do you love her?” I stare at Harvey, trying to work it all out in my head like I have been for days. “Of course, I love her. I’ve always loved her.” “Did you tell her that?” A stone drops in my stomach. “No.” “Why not?” I shrug noncommittally, feeling like a child getting a scolding. “You know why. You know this. Say it out loud.” My voice is strained when I finally say the thing that’s been holding me back. “Because the people I love either die or leave me.”

“Did you just⁠—” “Kick his fucking chair over?” Jasper provides, cutting off my dad’s question. “Yes. Because you might be okay with him talking to your daughter that way, but I am not. Must have learned better manners in the trailer park.”

“Where’s the ring? I want it back.” I circle my arm abruptly, tugging away from him right as Jasper steps in close, looking like he’s ready to murder Sterling for daring to put a hand on me. “I lost it.” I laugh again and wonder what is wrong with me. Why I have to laugh at the most inappropriate times. Right now I am truly unhinged. But it’s Jasper who really gets the last laugh when he leans in against my ex’s ear and says, “I fucked that ring right off her finger.” I wish I could commission an artist to paint the expression on Sterling’s face when that blow lands. It would be money well spent.

“That woman,” he mutters. “It’s like after years of keeping her opinions to herself, she’s just blurting them all out left, right, and center. It’s an opinion surplus sale in that house. Buy one, get ten.”

I want to remember this moment, this feeling, as clearly as I remember the first day I saw him. Painfully handsome with sad eyes. Today, when he turns and searches for me in the stands, he’s different. He’s painfully handsome with happy eyes.

Jasper: Meet me on the driveway. Sloane: Yes, sir. Jasper: Pocket that sentence for later when I strip you down and make you crawl. Sloane: YES, SIR.