I take another step toward her, a strangling lump in my throat.
Before I can reach her, the sliding glass door slams shut between us with a rattle, and she walks away.
“How long was she there?” I ask Nick, not even bothering to face him.
“Long enough, you chucklefuck.”
“Why didn’t you—”
“I tried, stupid! You were on a tirade.”
The worst part is, he’s absolutely right.
I yank on the door and almost rip my arm off.
“Shit. She locked us out.”
Can’t blame her in the slightest. I stand on the balcony, looking through the glass with no way to move forward.
“Now what?” Nick asks.
My foot flies up in answer. I kick the door. The glass rattles in the frame but doesn’t break. High-end materials are made too well.
“Hey, cut it out! Have you lost your mind?” Nick roars.
Yes, and I need to go find it.
Another savage kick makes a crack in the glass.
“Ward, get ahold of yourself. Jesus. What are you doing?” His hands are on my shoulders, trying to rip me back, but I’m not a sane man anymore.
I’m frantic to save my heart from drowning in my own wretched quicksand I poured.
Desperate, mad, and single-minded to save what I could’ve had with her, but was too chickenshit to admit.
“What does it look like?” I yell, my third roundhouse kick shattering the glass into beads. “I’m going after her. If people see her like that, news of our scam will be all over town.”
“That’s not why you just kicked your own door in!” Nick hisses. “At least be honest. Be honest with her if you won’t be with me.”
God, when did my little brother grow a brain? It scares me.
“You’ve got Grayson’s number, tell him to call somebody to fix this mess.” I pull my jacket up over my face to miss the jagged glass bits still hanging around the edges and pound the floor to my bedroom.
Paige isn’t there, and she’s not in the guest suite either.
I tread back to my room and open the closet door. A few of her outfits are still hanging up, but most of her clothes are gone.
She’s left me.
Just like my parents did.
No, this is different.
She didn’t leave because she doesn’t love me enough. She left because I practically told her to her face that I don’t love her, and never will.
Because I was no better than that frat boy dick-wit who stabbed her in the heart years ago, and now I may have just bled the last sweetness out of her.
I told her I have a heart of stone.
I lied like the lying bastard liar of a Wardhole I am. I’d might as well have kicked her heart to pieces rather than the door.
She can’t leave.
I need her in my home. I need her in my life. I need her because—because I just do.
With a gnarled breath in my lungs, I rush to the front room just in time to catch the tail end of her lavender suitcase going out the door. My shoes squeak on the tile and I almost fall in my mad rush to catch her.
“Paige. Paige, wait!” My voice doesn’t even sound human. More like a hundred-year storm.
Maybe I should just let it go.
This way she’s not mixed up with my dysfunctional family. She doesn’t have to lie anymore. She doesn’t have to sink to my hell-bound debauchery.
But can I really leave it like this and still have a pulse? And what about Winthrope?
Taking a fierce, deep, soul-ripping breath, I follow her into the hall and chase after us.
25
Done Dirty (Paige)
His front door slaps shut behind me and I’m thankful for the barrier between us.
Tears roll down my cheeks like an avalanche. I wheel my suitcase to the wall and pause to catch my breath, collecting my thoughts.
Will I ever learn? It’s just like Austin. No, it’s worse.
I was the effing placeholder. Again.
And this time, I can’t even blame him. At least he was honest about his intent to use me from the start. He just wanted a prop for a business deal. I agreed to be his cardboard cutout for over a million bucks and was stupid enough to get swept up in a lie.
How many idiot awards do I win?
But it’s not all my fault.
Why deliver the kisses, the caresses, the sunshine looks that made me trust make-believe?
Why make love to me every night and then hold me and ask me to stay in his room?