Fold

Instantly his arms envelop me and it only makes me cry harder. “I'm so sorry,” I repeat through sobs because I'll never be able to stop apologizing to him. “And I'm sorry for being such a coward and not coming here to apologize to you sooner. Not that me being sorry changes anything or makes it—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kit.”

“Yes, I do.” The harsh tone of my voice has him pulling back to look at me. “I left you. You were my friend and I left you there.”

He shakes his head. “Okay, first of all—I'm still your friend. Second—last time I checked, you were dragged into that elevator kicking and screaming.” The pad of his thumb touches my tear-stained cheek. “But even if you weren't, you'd still have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You're wrong,” I tell him, pointing to my chest. “I should have—”

“Dammit, Kit. No,” he interjects, grabbing my face. “Look at me.”

When I do, he says, “I made a choice for all of us in that cafeteria. It was my plan and I gave you and Preston no other option but to go along with it. Don't apologize for doing what I wanted you to do.” His jaw hardens. “I would have hated you both if you didn't.”

His statement causes a rush of anger to spiral through me, not only because it echoes what Preston said in the elevator, but it makes me feel even worse. “Why would you sacrifice yourself for us? Weren't you scared of never seeing Breslin or Asher again?”

Thoughts of Becca pummel me and I clench my fists as I continue. “Why would you risk your life for two people who don't mean nearly as much as the two people you're in love with do?”

It was supposed to be a question, but instead it comes out as an accusation.

His expression is pained. “I was petrified of never seeing them again, but I knew Breslin couldn't lose you and Asher couldn't lose Preston. They'd never be the same if they did and I couldn't let that happen. The only shot you two had of making it out alive was by me doing what I did.”

I throw my arms around him because there's nothing else I can say to him after that. Nothing good anyway. I can't stand here and tell the man who saved my life that I wish he didn't bother.

If Kyle killed me, at least I would have died knowing the girl I gave my heart to loved me back...even though it was only an illusion.

Pretending you're loved is so much better than knowing you're not.

But Preston took that from me. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my illusion.

“I hate him,” I choke out as a fresh dose of white-hot pain slices through me like a hot knife through butter. “I hate him so fucking much.”

Landon cradles me to his chest. “I know, sometimes there are moments when I do too. I have to keep reminding myself he was mentally ill and struggling with his demons.”

I stare at the bandage peeking out from the top of his hospital gown, feeling both stupid and embarrassed. “Yeah.” I stand up straight and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “You're right.”

He gives me a strange look. “Kit is there something else going on? I know I'm not Breslin, but you can—”

“No.” I take a step back. “I'm fine. Everything is fine.”

He starts to open his mouth but Breslin and Asher walk into the room. My eyes fall to where their hands are joined and then back to Landon who is smiling brightly at the both of them.

I guess something good came out of this tragedy after all, because it appears the three of them ended up working their issues out.

My heart twists and right when I start thinking of an excuse to leave because being around the happy trio is the equivalent of picking at an ugly, oozing scab, I hear a phone ring.

I watch as Asher—who I now realize is wearing a suit—peers at his cell and frowns before returning it to his pocket.

He looks so much like his younger brother in this moment; it makes my teeth clack.

“I take it that wasn't him?” Landon questions, yanking me from my thoughts.

“Nope.” Asher releases Breslin's hand and plops down on the large chair in the room. “I tried calling his cell, but it's out of service. The only thing I can do is pray he'll either call me so I can help him or decide to come back on his own.”

“He will,” Landon says. “The funeral just happened this morning, maybe he needs a few days to clear his head before he gets back in touch.”

Breslin snorts. “Clear his head? I think you mean gamble every cent he has before he calls Asher to get him out of whatever trouble he's in.”

Landon rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, that too.”

“Funeral?” I question, hating myself for being so curious when they're clearly talking about the very asshole I detest.

Breslin walks over to Asher who is looking more distraught by the second. “Asher's father ended up passing away the same night the shooting happened.” She rubs Asher's back. “The funeral was this morning and Preston skipped town after the service was over. Asher thinks he might be in trouble again. As usual, he offered to help him, but Preston declined...for now.”

I'm so caught off guard by the news I nearly do a double take.

And then I realize.

“I can't believe he left his baby,” I blurt out, rage replacing my shock. I feel like a bomb mere seconds before it detonates. “Actually, on second thought, I can.”

I glare at Asher because I'm on fire now and he's the closest thing to the real target I have. “Your brother is the most selfish and self-centered jackass I've ever met.”

I laugh sardonically, like some kind of deranged hyena. The hate I have for them both is practically hemorrhaging from every orifice of my body. “Too bad he left, because he and Becca deserve one another. And I hope for everyone's sake their baby doesn't take after either of them—which I suppose, is about as pointless as wishing for a stream of water in a desert, considering it is the spawn of Satan and his dumb, cheating whore.”

They all stare at me wide-eyed like I've gone mad.

They're not wrong. I have and I am.

Asher starts to speak, but Landon cuts him off. “Kit has a point...sort of. I can't see your brother ditching his unborn child. There's no way he's gone for good.”

Asher tries to speak again, but this time, it's Breslin who interjects. “Preston isn't an upstanding citizen by any stretch, but he wouldn't abandon his kid. He'll definitely be back in town in time for the birth.”

Asher raises an eyebrow, appearing confused. “What the hell are the three of you smoking? It's not his baby.”

I look at Breslin and Landon who both seem as baffled as I am.

“It's not?” Breslin questions at the same time I say, “It's his baby. Trust me.”

Asher shakes his head. “No, it's not.”

Breslin's gaze ping-pongs between us. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I yell at the same time Asher says, “Positive.”

Breslin and Landon exchange a glance.

“That really clears things up,” Landon mumbles.

Breslin takes a sip of her drink and sighs. “Okay, obviously we need to get to the bottom of this.”

Landon nods. “Asher, you go first, why are you sure the baby isn't his?”

Asher leans back in his seat and opens his arms wide, looking at all of us. “Well, for starters, my brother gets more ass than a toilet seat. He was already having threesomes by the time I got my first hand job from Breslin.”

I ignore the strange ache in my chest as Breslin chokes on her drink and Landon pinches the bridge of his nose. “We have got to work on your explanation skills. What does any of that have to do with him not being the father?”