Question is…why? Because there’s no way all that rage he exhibited was over a stupid watch.
Dropping to my knees, I shoo the dogs away so I can collect the larger pieces of the broken plates off the floor before sweeping up the smaller ones. Luckily, neither my friends nor the pups were injured.
“Something is seriously wrong with him,” Breslin snaps. “He had no right to go after you like that.”
I’m about to point out that technically he didn’t go after him, but a shard slices my finger at the same time something else occurs to me.
“You said the watch was an heirloom, right?”
“Yeah.” Asher huffs out a breath. “Why? You think that hissy fit of his was because it wasn’t brand new?”
“No.” I wrap a napkin around my finger. “Was it your dad’s?”
He nods.
In that case, I think I understand why he was so mad. Once again, I find myself defending Preston because no one else will give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Why would you give him a watch that belonged to an asshole who treated his kids like shit?”
Breslin opens her mouth to defend her boyfriend, but nothing comes out. Probably because she knows I have a point.
Asher runs a hand over his scalp and sighs. “I was trying to extend an olive branch.”
When I give him a look he says, “I know he’s still pissed that our father made me the primary beneficiary before he died. Hell, it was the last thing we spoke about before he left town and disappeared off the face of the earth for three years. Giving him the watch was my way of letting him know that I’m still willing to split the money with him. Provided he quits gambling.”
Good Lord. He should have just told him that then.
Not that Preston would have listened.
“Clearly that backfired.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Look, Kit,” Breslin cuts in. “Asher might not have thought his gift through fully, but his heart was in the right place.” She points in the direction of the stairs. “Preston had no right to throw a dish at his head. He could have seriously hurt him.”
“Well, Asher seriously hurt Preston by giving him a watch that belonged to an asshole.”
I realize my argument is weak compared to hers, but I wish she would cut him a little bit of slack.
She laughs, but it’s devoid of humor. “Right. It hurt him so much he pawned it in and then lost the money gambling.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Technically, he won.”
Again, not the best argument, but it’s all I’ve got.
“Jesus.” She throws up her hands. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”
“Okay,” Landon interjects. “That’s enough.” He reaches for Breslin’s hand. “Let’s go home before one of you ends up saying something you’ll regret.”
I can tell Breslin wants to argue some more but she pulls a leash out of her purse and calls Picasso over.
I slump against the front door after they leave. I hate fighting with her, but it’s inevitable because Asher doesn’t use his brain before he acts.
Not that Preston is any better because he’s the most impulsive person I’ve ever met.
Closing my eyes, I blow out an exasperated breath. I have no idea how these two will ever work their issues out when Preston makes it impossible.
Aggravated, I march up the stairs, intending to lay into my husband about his pigheadedness.
However, what I see when I turn the doorknob to his bedroom jams my vocal cords and nearly brings me to my knees.
Preston’s leaning against the headboard, his expression vacant as a wave of violent tremors pummel his body.
“Preston.”
Even though his eyes are open, he doesn’t register my presence.
He’s completely withdrawn…unresponsive.
A band of sorrow tightens around my heart. It’s like he’s in a trance…being held hostage by a force he’s unable to escape.
And I can’t get to him.
Running over to the bed, I fold my arms around him, letting him know he’s not alone. That he’ll never be alone.
Because whatever his demons are…
They’re mine, too.
Growing desperate, I cradle his face in my hands. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
But he doesn’t.
He can’t.
“Tell me how to fix this.”
Fix you.
I might not understand what’s happening right now, but I feel his pain as if it were my own and I want nothing more than to make it go away.
Securing my hold, I hug him as tight as I can. So tight, I feel his heart beating wildly against my chest.
So tight, he knows we’re forever fused together and that I’ll never, ever give up on him.
“It’s me and you,” I remind him, tracing little circles up and down his damp back. “Until the end.”
A raw, agonizing sound escapes him and he drops his head, nestling in the crook between my neck and shoulder.
A surge of anger runs through me as I trail my finger along the scar on his head. I hate that Asher gave him a watch that once belonged to that abusive piece of shit.
But not nearly as much as I hate that even in his death…the bastard still tortures my Preston.
“Come back to me.”
I need you.
“Please,” I beg, my voice cracking with unshed tears because it feels like I’m losing this battle and he’s slipping farther away. “Please don’t leave me—”
Strong arms wrap around my frame. “Kit.”
Relief floods through me like a tidal wave as I breathe him in and press my lips to his scar. “Talk to me.”
I know his father beat him, but maybe talking about it with someone he trusts will help.
Disappointment sinks like a brick in my chest when Preston goes silent again. However, I know forcing him to do something he doesn’t want to will only make things worse and push him away.
“I’ll give you some space,” I say after another minute passes. “But I’m here for you.” My stomach coils as I let him go. I wish he’d lower his walls and open up to me, but it’s like praying for rain while you’re standing in a desert. “Always.”
I turn to get off the bed, but he wraps his fingers around my wrist. “Angry girl.”
“Yeah?”
A jolt goes through me when his hands cup my face and he crushes his mouth against mine…kissing me like I’m the only thing that matters to him.
Briefly, I contemplate putting a stop to it because the last time we did this it ended with a bruised heart and ego, but I can’t. He’s like an undertow dragging me down. Rendering me helpless with every insatiable glide of his tongue.
We become a ripple of frantic breaths and desperate sounds. I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting more.
He groans low and pained, his rough hands running up and down the length of my back, pressing me against him as he explores every inch of my mouth.
Another deep growl assaults my ears, followed by an angry bark. I’m so swept up in this moment it takes me a second to register that it didn’t come from him.
When I break the kiss and look down, I see Lola glaring at Preston, ready to pounce.
“For fuck’s sake.” Visibly annoyed at being interrupted, Preston narrows his eyes at the pooch. “She’s mine.”