With a grimace, he reaches inside one of the bags and chucks a box of tampons at me. “Here.” Glaring, he hurls another box at Breslin. “You have two fiancés. Next time make one of them fetch your feminine products.”
She rolls her eyes. “You were going to the store for Kit anyway.”
“Yeah, because her pussy is the one I’m fucking. Hence, it’s the only one I’ll take care of. Consider this a one-time courtesy.” White teeth flash with a vicious smile. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” I tell him to which he just grumbles.
Yup. Still tense.
“They were out of rocky road.” He plunks a tub of ice cream on the coffee table. “I got you peanut butter fudge.”
I bat my eyelashes. “What about the chocolate?”
More grumbling.
Reaching into the bag again, he pulls out a few chocolate bars. He tosses three to me and one to Breslin.
Juan makes grabby hands. “Excuse ‘em wa. Where’s mine?”
Preston makes a face. “Come on, man.”
“What?” Juan pats the heating pad on his stomach. “I have sympathy cramps.”
Preston looks at me.
Biting into a candy bar, I shrug. “I don’t know about the cramps, but he definitely gets bitchy.”
Juan nods. “Facts.”
Preston snatches one of my candy bars and throws it at him. “Here.” Palms up, he backs out of the room. “I’m tapping out of this Ya-Ya Sisterhood shit and going upstairs. If you need anything else, get it your fucking self.”
With that, he stalks off.
Juan reaches for the ice cream. “Are we sure he doesn’t have his period?”
Certainly seems like it.
I’m in such a crabby mood the forty-five-minute hot shower I took didn’t do a dang thing to help.
I hate fighting with Preston. I hate that I can’t come up with any kind of resolution.
I hate Becca.
Opening the bathroom door, I pad into the adjoining bedroom so I can put on my jammies and go to sleep. I startle when I see Preston sitting on the bed…looking about as miserable as I feel.
I pull my robe tighter. “I thought you were working out downstairs?”
He gives me a sour look. “Didn’t help.”
I’d ask if he wants to talk about it, but the last time we had a serious conversation he bit my head off.
Untwisting the towel from my hair, I walk over to the dresser. “I’ll be out of here in a minute. Just let me grab some cloth—”
“Kit.”
I close my eyes. “I don’t want to fight, Preston.”
“I don’t want to fight, either.”
“Could have fooled me,” I mutter under my breath.
“Angry girl.”
I swear his lips twitch when I scowl. “What?”
All traces of amusement fade and he crooks a finger at me. “Come here.”
Damn my softy ass because I concede. Those dark eyes roam over every inch of me as I walk over to where he is. Apparently, not close enough though because he curls a hand around my hip and maneuvers me so I’m standing directly in front of him.
“I don’t like when I don’t have control.”
I’d laugh if it wasn’t for the serious expression on his face.
That’s an understatement if there ever was one.
“This situation with Jameson…I can’t control it and I fucking hate that.”
My heart sinks because I don’t like it either. “I know.”
His head falls forward, nuzzling my chest. “I don’t want to lose him, and I don’t want to lose you. But I feel like I’m gonna lose both of you.”
I run my fingers over his scalp, attempting to soothe him. “You won’t ever lose me.”
And I really don’t want him to lose Jameson.
“How do you feel about conjugal visits?”
I blink, taken aback. “Huh?”
He wraps his hands around my wrists, stopping my movements before he lifts his head.
“Killing that bitch is the only way I can cut the noose she has around my neck.”
I’d think he was just venting and speaking out of anger if it wasn’t for the downright homicidal look in his eyes.
“It doesn’t even have to be brutal—although, I’d prefer it.” His smile is as lethal as his words are. “I can just slip some antifreeze into her drink. I’ll make sure Jameson is with the babysitter so he doesn’t have to witness it.”
“You’d be a prime suspect,” I inform him because he’s talking crazy. “Which means you’d most likely get caught.”
His voice is utterly sinister. “It would be worth it.”
Whoa. He is definitely serious about this.
But as awful as Becca is…murdering her isn’t the answer.
Sadly, it will only cause even more problems.
“Let’s say you kill her.” I palm his cheek. “Then what? I get to visit you on the weekends for the next twenty-five years. Although let’s face it, you’d probably get more because she’s a woman and a mother, so a jury and judge would be inclined to throw the book at you.” I hold his gaze. “Jameson will be put into the system. Probably some foster home located God only knows where, and you won’t stand a chance in hell of finding out because you killed his mother.”
I run my thumb down his jaw. “Which would only confuse and hurt him—and possibly teach him that it’s okay to kill—because his hero did it.” I bring our foreheads together. “Doing that only takes care of Becca. What happens to us?”
Because we need him.
He closes his eyes. “That’s where I get stuck.”
“You wouldn’t just be killing Becca. You’d be killing me and Jameson, too.”
His tattered breath fans over my skin. “I could hire a hitman for two million and the three of us can run off to another country. Live happily ever after.”
That won’t work either.
“You really think you can tuck him in, kiss his forehead, and promise you’ll keep the boogie man away from him every night all while knowing you were the one responsible for having his mother killed?”
A lump fills my throat. “He might not figure it out at first because he’s too young, but one day he will. I know he will because I’ve been that kid, Preston. I know what it’s like to have an adult look me in the eyes and try to pretend like everything was fine when the feeling in my gut told me he took my parents from me. And even though you’re nothing like my uncle and you have justifiable reasons for wanting her dead. Jameson might not see it that way. There’s a very good chance he might hate you for it…just as much as you hate Becca.” I cup his jaw. “Does your hate for her outweigh the love you have for Jameson? If so, let’s pack a fucking bag and do this.”
He doesn’t even have to answer that because I know it doesn’t.
His shoulders slump with a heavy exhale. “I hate this.”
Kissing the top of his head, I pull him close. “I know you do, but we’re in this together.”
When he hurts…I hurt.
I’m about to suggest we get into bed because we both could use some rest, but then his lips find my neck, nipping and teasing.