“That’s bullshit,” Preston interjects. “You’re never around.”
Becca pops a hand on her hip. “You must be blind then, because I’m here right now.”
“Enough,” the nurse exclaims. “You two need to stop fighting. It’s upsetting your child—”
“He’s not our child. He’s my child,” Becca screeches. “This asshole is just a babysitter.” She glares at Preston. “And he’s fired.”
Rubbing her forehead, the nurse looks at Preston. “Is that true?”
Preston’s nostrils flare. “No—”
“He’s not his father,” Becca snaps.
Yes, he is.
It’s clear by the nurse’s expression that she doesn’t want to deliver her next words, but she doesn’t have a choice. “In that case I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
The despair on Preston’s face has my throat prickling with tears.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then you give me no choice but to get security.” She pops her head outside the door. “I need security in room five.”
Jameson makes grabby hands for him again. “Daddy.”
“He’s not your daddy, baby,” Becca’s sharp gaze cuts to Preston. “You’re never gonna see this scumbag again.”
Her cruel, punishing words only make Jameson more upset.
“Daddy,” he cries out again, trying to get out of Becca’s arms.
Preston squeezes his outstretched hand. “I’m not going anywhere, JP.”
“Don’t touch my son,” Becca seethes as two security guards rush inside the room.
One of them steps toward Preston. “Come with us.”
“Fuck off.”
I touch his shoulder. This is a battle we’re losing and I’m afraid of what might happen if he doesn’t cooperate. “We have to go.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“Let go of the child and come with us.” The security guard grabs Preston’s free arm. “You don’t want to make a scene in front of him.”
When Preston still refuses, I’m jostled out of the way and the second security guard yanks his other arm, breaking his contact with Jameson.
Preston struggles against them as they drag him in the direction of the door. “I’m not leaving him.”
His resilience is so strong, he breaks away and advances on Becca. “You know how much I love him—”
“Leave, or I swear to God, I will have you arrested and get a restraining order,” she grinds out. “I’m not fucking around.”
Every ounce of fight leaves his body with those words and he stumbles back. Once she does that…he doesn’t stand a chance of seeing Jameson again.
I’m having serious regrets about talking Preston out of murdering her now. Hell, I want to be the one to drive the stake right through her wicked, black heart.
Preston leers at the security guards. “I’m not leaving the hospital. Not until I know he’ll be okay.”
The more sympathetic of the two guards nods. “As long as you don’t step foot in this room again, you can stay in the waiting area. But you need to leave now.”
The heartbreak on both Preston and Jameson’s faces as Preston heads for the door sends sharp shooting pain through my chest.
I find Becca’s spiteful stare as we reach the threshold. The hate I had for her before was nothing compared to right now. “You’re evil.”
She points to the door. “Out.”
“Daddy,” Jameson cries between coughs.
Preston’s voice is cracked glass. “I’m here.”
We begin walking down the hall, but Preston stops midway and punches the wall.
I’m silent as I rub his back, because nothing I say will make any of this better for him.
“Daddy,” Jameson cries again, his wails for Preston reverberating down the hallway.
Slumping forward, Preston braces his arm against the wall. “I’m here.”
And that’s exactly where he stays until Jameson gets transferred to the pediatric floor where we aren’t allowed to go.
Even though the only thing that little boy wants is his dad.
Chapter 53
Preston
A frown mars Kit’s face as she zeroes in on the bottle of whiskey in my hand. “Starting early tonight, huh?”
After filling it to the brim, I bring the glass to my lips. The amber liquid burns my throat, but not enough to dull the pain.
It’s been nine days since I’ve seen him.
Nine days since that heartless bitch ripped him away from me.
According to Charlotte, he was discharged four days ago and he’s doing much better. While that’s reassuring…it’s still not enough.
Kit grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. “Breslin, Landon, and Asher are coming over for dinner.”
I down what’s in my glass and fill it back up. “Great. I’ll be upstairs.”
She grabs my arm when I turn to leave. “Come on, Preston. I know you’re upset about not being able to see Jameson, but drinking and locking yourself up in the bedroom isn’t gonna make it any better.”
Wrong. When I’m drunk enough to pass out, I don’t have to think about how much I miss him.
So much it fucking hurts.
Needless to say, I have no desire to see any of my neighbors. Least of all Asher. I’m not sure why Kit doesn’t get that.
“And seeing my shithead brother will?”
“No.” There’s a glint of hope in her gaze as her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “But I’ll be there.”
Before I can turn her down, she goes in for the kill…wrapping her arms around me.
“I know you’re hurting, but I’m here for you.”
My free hand finds her waist and I lean down and inhale her. Unlike me, she smells like heaven.
And feels like home.
Her arms lock around my neck. “I miss you.”
I miss her, too.
She’s the only thing that can pull me back from the darkest pits of hell.
I plant my lips right below her ear as my hand drifts to her ass.
My cock reminds me he exists for the first time in nine days and I want to throw her down on this island so I can take advantage of it. “Take off your pant—”
“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Asher interjects.
I stifle a groan. Not only do I not want to fucking see him…his timing is impeccable.
The numbskull doesn’t take the hint that his presence isn’t wanted, though because he grins and holds up two large takeout bags. “Come on, lovebirds. I got us Mexican.”
“I’ll be upstairs,” I grunt when he leaves.
Kit reaches for my hand. “Don’t go.” There’s a flicker of sadness in her expression. “Stay with me.”
Even though I don’t want to…I fold.
For her.
“I bought something awesome today,” Asher declares before stuffing his mouth with food.
My lips twitch because it’s not the cheesy enchiladas and tacos the rest of us are digging into.