Breslin and I exchange a confused glance, because while this Darius guy sounds like a tool, it still doesn’t explain why I’m currently petting an adorable bulldog.
“That sucks, but I’m having trouble understanding how you ended up with a dog.”
“Darius said it was his good luck charm.” Preston shrugs, like the next words he delivers make perfect sense. “So, I had no choice but to take him.”
Chapter 17
Preston
“What do you mean you took him?” Kit questions, looking like she’s ready to wring my neck.
“Relax.” I finish my egg roll and reach for another. “It’s only until Darius gives me my money.”
I clench my teeth against the rush of anger that billows in my chest. The shiesty motherfucker.
“Let me get this straight,” Kit says. “You’re holding an innocent dog as collateral?”
She’s making it sound a lot worse than it is. I could have beat the bastard to a bloody pulp or chopped off one of his fingers and shoved it up his low-life ass. The only reason I didn’t was because he assured me he’d get the money together.
“I can’t believe you stole a dog,” Breslin chimes in.
Here we fucking go.
“I didn’t steal him. I’m giving Darius a week to come up with the money.”
Plus interest.
All things considered, I’m being generous here. If he pulled that shit back when I still worked for Campanelli, they would have skinned him alive.
Kit’s hazel eyes narrow into tiny slits. “And then what?”
“The mutt goes back to his owner, I’m five grand richer, and everybody’s happy. The end.”
“What if he doesn’t?” This from Landon.
It’s a solid question because I haven’t really given it much thought.
“I don’t know.” I plop a dumpling in my mouth, mulling this over. “I drop him off at the pound and—”
A gasp of outrage leaves Kit and she throws her arms around the dog protectively. “Oh, my God. No. What is the matter with you?”
Breslin snorts. “Listing those things would take all night.”
I give her the finger before directing my attention to Kit. “Darius will give me my money.”
My hands clench at my sides. Or else.
Kit doesn’t look too pleased with that answer, but she’s too distracted by the ugly dog who’s happily licking her cheek to press me about it. “I can’t even with how cute you are. What’s his name?”
I pick up the glass of water next to her plate and take a sip. “Killer.”
Her features scrunch. “What?” Cooing at him, she takes his wrinkly face in her hands and presses her nose to his. “There’s no way this sweet baby is a killer.”
I’m about to tell her not to get too attached because he won’t be staying long, but then she says, “You can be Lola while you’re here.”
I choke on my drink. “Lola?” I might not care for the mutt, but she just verbally neutered him. “I suggest you take a look under the hood because he most definitely isn’t a Lola.”
“I don’t care.” She wraps her arms around his thick neck. “He’s Lola while he’s here.”
Some battles just aren’t worth it. “Fine. Call him whatever you want. I don’t give a shit.”
“I have some extra dog food, bowls, and toys you can use,” Breslin says as Picasso comes over and begins sniffing the bulldog. “I’ll bring them over in a few.”
“That would be great, thanks.” She scratches Picasso behind the ears. “And thank you for sharing.”
The lab doesn’t look the least bit happy about it.
“How’d you get the money to play poker?” Asher questions suddenly, his eyes falling to my wrist.
“None of your business,” I bite out, directing my focus back to the only person in the room I can tolerate. “Anyway—”
“You’re not wearing the watch.”
Asher’s not as dumb as he looks after all because I slowly see the wheels turning in his head.
“Who wants cake?” Kit announces, jumping to her feet.
“I’ll take some.”
On second thought, if Kit made it...I should pass. Seeing as they’re all eating Chinese food instead of the lasagna I saw her making earlier, I’m guessing it was about as palatable as her burned eggs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Asher bellows, despite me paying him no mind. “You sold the watch?”
I look at Kit who’s staring at her shoes. “What kind of cake?”
“Stop ignoring me and answer the damn question.”
I oblige, but only because I want to see the wounded expression on his face when I do.
“Yes. I sold that hideous watch.”
My brother looks like he’s been sucker punched in the nuts. Mission accomplished.
Smirking, I divert my attention to my wife again. “Chocolate? Vanilla—”
“How could you do that?” Breslin yells.
“Well...” I give her a shit-eating grin designed to piss her off even more. “I drove to a pawnshop, walked in…and then sold it.”
“He had it engraved for you,” Landon says softly, disappointment in his tone.
“I’m aware.”
“Dammit, Preston,” Asher grinds out, scrubbing a hand down his face. “That watch was an heirloom.”
Well, shit. If that’s the case, I probably could have gotten more for it.
A sick, bilious feeling rises up my throat when it hits me. Heirloom.
I thought the watch was his style. Correction—their style.
My stomach churns as a haze of red fills my vision and all the oxygen gets sucked out of my lungs.
Breath coming out in hard pants, I pick up the nearest object and throw it at his head.
Asher ducks in the nick of time, causing the plate to crash against the wall instead. “What the hell—”
“Get the fuck out,” I roar, breaking another dish so I can shove the jagged piece into his jugular and watch him bleed out onto the carpet.
Just like I did.
Blood whooshes in my ears as pain slams into my ribcage before radiating throughout my entire body…like I’m being crushed by a force that’s too big—too powerful—for me to stop.
“Preston.” I vaguely hear Kit whisper as I stalk out of the room.
But it’s too late.
I’m trapped inside a place she can no longer reach me.
No one can.
Chapter 18
Kit
I have no idea what happened just now. All I know is that I’ve never seen Preston so mad before…aside from the time Asher tried to force him to talk while he was handcuffed to my bed.
“Are you okay?” Breslin asks, rushing to Asher’s side.
“Yeah.” Although it’s clear by the look on his face that he’s still shaken up about what transpired.
I don’t blame him. It was like it was taking every ounce of Preston’s willpower to physically stop himself from killing his brother.