There’s a sharp exhale of breath. “What?”
“I went to the doctor today.” My throat burns with the lie. “I’m not pregnant. It was a false alarm.”
He doesn’t deserve to know the truth. Not until I’m positive he won’t ever hurt my child or make them feel unwanted.
He goes silent for several moments, and then, “Let me in.”
“No.” Pressing my forehead to the wood, I close my eyes. “I’ll give your things to Asher.”
He’s lucky I’m not throwing them out on the front lawn.
A strangled sound leaves him. “No. We are not fucking over!” I hear him collapse against the door. “Let me in.”
This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I stand firm. “No.”
“I’m sorry.” He smashes his fist into the wood with so much force something cracks. Thankfully, the door holds. “Let me in.”
More tears stream down my cheeks. “No.”
With a roar, he pounds again. “Please, baby. Open the fucking door.”
A bitter snort leaves me. He’s so drunk he can’t even say my name.
I pound back. “No!”
“Don’t do this.” His voice is so withered. So broken. “Don’t give up on me.”
Those words unleash a swell of pain so severe my cries become full-on hysterical sobs.
Because even though I should, I can’t give up on him. I love him too much.
But I also refuse to give his behavior a free pass.
I always swore I’d never make Preston do anything he didn’t want to, but that was before I became pregnant.
If he wants to be in either of our lives, he’ll have to earn it.
“You need to get help.” I lock the deadbolt on the door. “That’s the only way I’m ever letting you back in.”
With that…I walk away.
Chapter 60
Preston
Head spinning, I stagger over to my brother’s house.
Because he’s the only one who can help me fix this shitstorm I’ve created.
It felt like one thing after another just kept piling up…until it exploded.
Unfortunately, the blast hurt the person I love most.
The second I saw that test, it was like someone pulled a trigger on a gun and Becca’s pregnancy came rushing back in a cruel flash.
Every moment I spent thinking he was mine.
Because I wanted him to be. So fucking bad.
But then Becca ripped that away from me. Twice.
I stumble up the porch of my brother’s house and slam the doorbell.
My bladder feels like an overinflated balloon thanks to all the liquor I drank tonight. The urge to take a piss is so strong, I stagger to the side of the porch and unzip my jeans…aiming for the rose bushes on the side of the house.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Breslin screeches from a now open front door. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What the fuck does it look like?” I snap as my brother and Landon charge outside.
“Jesus,” Asher grunts. “I’ve been calling you for days. Where have you been?”
“From the look and smell of him, I’d say a bar,” Landon mutters under his breath.
“Close.” I shake my dick and zip up my pants. “Casino.”
Their disappointment is palpable.
Huffing, Breslin slams the front door.
Asher pinches the bridge of his nose. “I thought you quit gambling for good?”
I shake my head which only makes everything spin even more. “No. Just temporarily.”
Or rather, that was the plan so I could get Kit off my back…but I fucked that up.
Asher reaches for my arm. “You’re trashed.”
I swat him away. “No, I’m not—”
My entire body sways and my ass hits something hard. I look around and realize I’m now sitting instead of standing. Fuck.
I fish the pack of cigarettes I bought earlier out of my pocket and light one. Or rather, I try to but I can’t seem to get the damn lighter to work. “Motherfucker.”
Landon helps me. “Here.”
I slap his back. “Always looking out for your boy.” Pinching the cigarette between my fingers, I take a long drag and peer up at my brother. “I need help.”
“No shit,” Asher mutters.
“Kit kicked me out.”
Asher and Landon exchange a glance as I continue.
“I saw a pregnancy test in the garbage and flipped the fuck out. Told her I didn’t want it…then left and went to the casino to blow off some steam.” I take another drag. “Turns out I had no reason to be pissed because it was a false alarm.” I stub my cigarette out. “She’s still pissed at me, though and won’t let me back in the house. That’s why I’m here.”
“You can sleep in the guest bedroom,” Asher offers, but I shake my head.
I’m gonna need more than a place to sleep.
“She won’t take me back until I get help.”
My brother and his fiancé exchange another glance.
“I don’t know what that means, exactly, but I don’t want to lose her.” I can’t. “So, I need your help.”
Asher scrubs a hand down his face. “There’s a place about an hour away. It’s inpatient.”
I reach for my cigarettes again. “Fuck that.”
His jaw tics. “The program specializes in addictions and trauma. Which is exactly what you need.”
Hard pass. “No—”
“Kit’s serious about this,” Asher snaps. “If you don’t believe me, ask Breslin.” He holds my gaze. “You’re gonna lose her for good if you don’t go.”
My chest tightens. There’s no way that’s happening.
“Losing her isn’t a fucking option.”
“Good. Then you’re going.”
Asher and Landon grab each of my arms, hauling me back up. “After you get some sleep.”
The next afternoon, Asher pulls to a stop in front of a large villa surrounded by farmland.
“This doesn’t look like a mental institution.”
“That’s because it’s not. It’s a rehab center. And it’s voluntary.”
Thank fuck for that. “See you in a week.”
Then I’ll be back home and everything can return to normal.
Asher looks out the driver’s side window. “The program is ninety days.”
He can’t be serious. I’m not doing this shit for longer than a week. And even that’s too long. “You’re shitting me.”
He cocks his head, his expression serious. “I’m not.”
I laugh without humor because he seems to have forgotten something important. “I can’t stay here for ninety days. Not only is that crazy, I’m your agent, remember? Your season starts in three days.”
Hell, he should have been on a plane headed back to New Orleans four days ago.
“I know,” Asher says. “I won’t accept any new deals until you’re back.”
That’s a lot of potential money he’s leaving on the table. “That’s not…you can’t do that.”