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“Jack,” she says, trailing circles with one finger in the dust on the altar. “I’m glad you came.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Branley?” I say, trying to keep my voice even. When she sent me a pic after prom, all I had to do was turn off my phone so I didn’t have to see. Now she’s right in front of me, and I can’t look away.

“How many times, Jack? You and me, right here on this altar . . .” She pitches her voice low and sexy, and I tell myself I’m walking toward her so I can hear and that’s the only reason why. “How many times?” she asks again.

A lot. The answer is a lot. Her hair hanging down the side, brushing in the dirt. Our noises echoing back at us from the stone walls. I clear my throat.

“Where’s my stuff?” I say.

Her eyes go big and wide, fake surprised. One finger goes to her lipsticked mouth in mock confusion. “Shoot. I forgot it at my house.”

“Goddammit, Branley,” I say under my breath, but she’s smiling at me, the perfect mix of the girl I know so well and one every straight guy in the world wants to fuck. “Get down,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “Come up here with me.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Bullshit, Jack,” she says, temper poking through the bedroom act. “You’ve been mine for years. She can’t just take you away, and you can’t act like I was nothing.”

“You weren’t nothing,” I say immediately, even though I hate myself for it, especially because it’s true.

Her face softens. “Then c’mere,” she says. “One more time.”

And I’m considering it. What would it really hurt, to say good-bye to Branley in the way she likes best? Alex would never know and goddammit I want to. Those are the only reasons why I should, against a million better reasons why I shouldn’t. But the wants are louder and more immediate, filling my head as she leans into me, perfumed hair against my cheek.

“Jack,” she says into my ear, and my whole body is humming. I think I hear a car outside and I pull away, but her hand is on the front of my pants and I don’t move far.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she says, hand against me. She’s going in for a kiss, but the half second of space between us cleared my head, disrupting everything I want to do and reminding me of what I should.

“Bran,” I say, and put my hands on her shoulders. “This isn’t happening.”

“Dammit, Jack,” she hisses. “All I want you to do is fuck me.”

“If you won’t, I sure as hell will” comes a deep voice from the front of the church.

I spin around, broken glass sliding under my feet, arms out in front of Branley like somehow I can keep the two guys who just walked in from seeing her. They’re hunters, locked and loaded for turkey season, shotguns in hand and a wave of whiskey breath preceding them that tells me bagging a bird wasn’t their only goal.

“What you two doing?” the guy out front asks, a twisted smile that says he already knows. He gets closer and I see why the smile goes past a leer and into something worse. It’s because he’s missing some of his nose.

We recognize each other at the same moment, and Ray Parsons turns back to his buddy, the one Alex never touched because she didn’t have to. “Well look who the fuck it is, Billy.”

“We’re just leaving,” I say as I feel Branley’s knees poking into my back, her fingers tight on my shoulders. She’s breathing fast and shallow, little puckers of air hitting my neck.

“Fuck you are,” Ray says. “We’ve been looking forward to running into you for a long time. Where’s your girlfriend, huh? Got a new one? This one ain’t so scary, is she, Billy?”

Billy’s bloodshot eyes skip right over my shoulder to latch onto Branley. “She ain’t scary at all,” he says. “Bet you could bend her over in two seconds, Ray.”

“Get out of here,” Branley says, her voice shaky. “Leave us alone.”

“We’re not gonna hurt you,” Ray says, ignoring me and talking to Branley. He leans his shotgun against the wall next to the door; Billy does the same. “See?” He spreads both hands in front of him but he’s still coming toward us, his smile too wide and empty, and Branley knows it.

“I said get the fuck out of here,” she yells.

“Listen to the mouth on her, Ray,” Billy says, following his friend.

Branley’s curled into a ball behind me and I’ve still got my arms out but I don’t know what to do with them. If these guys have got more than fucking with us on their minds we’re screwed and I know it.