by Ashley Jade
“So did she give you a list of these things she wants you to do before she makes you her beneficiary?” Breslin questions as I enter the kitchen where she and Asher are still going to town on tapas.
Well, Asher mostly.
I plop down beside her. I’ve already filled her in on everything that didn’t involve marriage or Preston. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”
She pauses mid-bite. “How so?”
“She uh…” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Side-stepping around the truth is so much harder than I thought it would be. I don’t know how Preston manages to do it all the time. No wonder he’s always in a bad mood. “She wants me to get married.”
Breslin looks like she smelled the sour milk in my fridge. “What? That doesn’t make any sense. All your life she’s been a royal bitch about your sexuality—”
“To a guy.” I reach for some chips. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Breslin’s face falls. “She can’t do that.”
“Can’t do what?” Landon inquires when he joins us a moment later.
“Kit’s nanna won’t give her the money unless she marries a guy.”
Landon sticks his hands in his pockets. “Wow, that’s…you’re obviously not going through with it, right? Because take it from me, you’re better off without her. I’ll always love my mom and it hurts that she still refuses to accept me, but it’s her problem…not mine. I have a right to love who I want and so do you.”
Breslin gives his hand a squeeze. “He’s right, Kit. I know the money is important to you, but I think your parents would rather you be happy.”
I look down at the table, feeling both heartbroken and angry about being in this position. “I know.”
“I think you should do it,” Asher mutters, surprising everyone.
When we all look at him, he says, “We can sit here all day and preach about how money isn’t more important than love or happiness. But the way I see it, Kit has neither.” He looks around my apartment before his gaze lands on me. “Regardless of the blunder with their will, your parents wanted you to be secure. They didn’t want you to be stuck in some crappy apartment your whole life and struggle financially, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, I mean, isn’t that why most parents leave money to their kids?”
He points to the scar on his eyebrow. “Not all parents. Some parents are assholes who think giving you an inheritance makes up for all the fucked-up shit they did. But your parents weren’t assholes. Your grandmother is.” He slaps the table with his fist. “And right now, you’re single with no commitments, so you’re in the perfect position to beat the old bag at her own game. Get your ass on Tinder, set up a few interviews, conduct some background checks, and offer the dude you can stomach the most a cool million. Easy peasy.” He leans back in his seat. “People marry for money and status all the time. Hell, it’s why my parents got hitched.”
“It’s not about the money, it’s about not giving into her grandmother’s ridiculous threats and demands and taking a stand,” Breslin argues. “Kit should be allowed to marry who she wants as long as they make her happy.”
Landon nods. “I’m with Bre. You shouldn’t cave. Let her suffer knowing she lost the world’s best granddaughter.”
Asher jabs his finger in the air. “Nanna’s gonna be dead soon, guys. You really think she’s gonna have this epiphany on her deathbed and apologize to Kit for being such a fuckface?” When we all shake our heads, he says, “Exactly. And then Kit loses twice. At least now she has a chance of getting back something that never should have been taken away from her in the first place. Why should Kit be single, sad, and poor.”
“Shit.” Landon leans against the counter. “You have a point.”
Breslin chews on her fingernail. “Money isn’t everything, though.” She plays with the straw in her drink. “But what do I know? I grew up in a trailer park and was miserable until...” The color of her cheeks matches her fiery red hair as she looks at Asher and then Landon. “Well, these two.”
Woof.
“Three.” She pats Picasso’s head and he licks her nose. “If you want to do it, I’ll support you.” She turns to me. “I just don’t want you to end up marrying some jerk. You don’t need anyone else taking advantage of you or tagging along for a free ride. I know it won’t be—” She makes air quotes. “Real, but it doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you or use you. It should be someone you can depend on. Someone responsible and kind-hearted who will respect you and the situation.”
I release a sigh. Lord knows if I had married a guy with those qualities instead of Preston, my life would be much easier.
Her green eyes harden. “The last thing you want is some loser addict mooching off you. Trust me.”
I know she’s referring to her dad who treated her like cow manure for most of her life, but my stomach sours anyway. Preston isn’t any of those things either, but I know it’s what most people see when they look at him.
Asher leans back in his seat. “I’d offer to help you out, but I’m crazy in love with two very jealous, awesome people.” He laughs. “Plus, you don’t really have what it takes to be a Holden. No offense.”
It’s a good thing I start choking on my food and Breslin knocks over her drink when she goes to swat him.
“Crap.” She stands up. “My shirt.”
Asher waggles his eyebrows. “You can always take it off.”
Breslin rolls her eyes, but I see the blush creeping into her cheeks again. “Considering it’s freezing and we’re at Kit’s house, I’ll pass.”
“Do you want mine?” Landon offers.
She waves a hand. “I can’t take your shirt, honey. Then you’ll have nothing to wear.”
Asher grins and looks between them. “Again, my vote is for no clothes. It’s a very simple solution, you two get naked and I’ll warm you up. Everyone wins.”
Landon shuffles his feet. He’s not quite as reserved about his sex life like my bestie Breslin, but he’s far from the outgoing exhibitionist Asher is. Well, on the surface. It goes without saying that living with them for a year made me privy to certain aspects of their private life. Enough to know that yes—It’s always the quiet ones.
“I’m positive Kit wouldn’t win in that scenario, jock.”
I inwardly flinch. “Nope. Two naked dudes is not my idea of a good time.”
Breslin sighs. “No one is getting naked.” She looks at me. “Can I grab a shirt from your closet? I’ll have it washed and returned before we leave in a few days.”
“Sure—No.” I rewind the last part of her statement. “You’re staying here for a few days?”
I’m pretty sure having someone handcuffed to a bed against their will for more than a few hours is a federal crime of some kind.
“Yeah, I figured we—”
“You guys can’t stay here.”
Breslin blinks. “Figured we could hang out for a few days. However, I was going to book a hotel, so we didn’t put you out.” She grabs her phone and I see the hurt simmering under the surface. “Most hotels don’t accept dogs, though so I was gonna ask if you could keep Picasso here with you. But don’t worry, we’ll all be out of your hair soon.”
I feel lower than dog poop. They let me stay at their freaking house for a year rent free. And yet here I am making them feel like outcasts because of someone else’s drama.
Sometimes I really despise Preston.
“Breslin.” When she looks at me, I take off my sweatshirt and hand it to her. “You know I’d give you the shirt off my back. It’s not that I don’t want you guys here.” I look at each of them so they know I mean it. “You’re all welcome here whenever you want. However, I—”
“Is that a bite mark?” She comes closer and I cock my head to the side to hide it. “Make that multiple bite marks.”
Fuck a duck. Preston’s a dead man.
“You mean hickeys, babe,” Asher unhelpfully chimes in.
“I know what hickeys are. Thos
e are not hickeys. It looks like some savage beast tried to make Kit a snack.”
She’s not too far off.
“Did someone attack you? Is that what Juan was referring to?”
“I’m seeing someone,” I blurt out because all this lying is becoming too much for me to handle. “That’s what I was trying to say. I’m seeing someone and they’re asleep in my bedroom. It’s why I freaked before. I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want to overwhelm them.”
“Understandable,” Landon says. “Some of us—” He points to Breslin. “Can be a little scary and intimidating.”
Asher raises his glass. “Don’t forget stubborn.”
Breslin pops a hand on her hip. “Whatever, I make no apologies for protecting the people I love.” She straightens her spine. “Does she have a name?”
“Who?”
She gives me a look. “The new girl you’re seeing.”
“Oh, right.” And this is why you should never tell a lie. “Pres—” I gulp. “Cott.” I force a smile. “Her name is Prescott.”
Asher holds his fist out for a pound. “Sounds like a badass.”
You have no idea.
Landon studies me. “Where did you meet her?”
Breslin’s face twists. “More importantly, is she another gold digging whore like thou who shall never be named unless we’re referring to her as her biblical name—Becca, the giant thundercunt?”
Everybody goes silent. Which sucks because I’m almost positive you can hear the broken pieces of my heart clanking together.
“No.”
Breslin visibly relaxes. “Okay, well in that case, I want to know all about her.”
My shoulders rise in a shrug. “There’s really nothing to tell, it’s still super new.” I wring my hands so they can’t see them shake. “We met in Vegas.”
Asher’s eyebrows dance. “Is she hot?”
Bile rises in my throat. “God, no.”
The three of them exchange a glance.
“Guess that explains why you’re keeping her hidden,” Asher says through laughter and Breslin swats the back of his head.
I reach for my glass of water. “What I meant was, this person isn’t my usual preference, but I suppose some people might find them attractive.” I sweep a hand up and down. “You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Looks aren’t important anyway,” Landon says. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts, and you sound like you’re crazy about her.”
I spit up the water I swallowed. “I do?”
“It’s true,” Breslin agrees as she pats my back. “I already like her so much more than your exes who walked around like their shit didn’t stink.” She ruffles my hair. “I’m glad you’re looking beyond the physical appearance. Not that you’re vain or anything. It’s just good you’re branching out of your usual is all. Maybe this one is the one.”
“Definitely not.” I fidget. “We’re not serious at all. In fact, you probably won’t even meet her. Neither of us wants to be tied down—”
Woof. Woof. Woof.
Breslin looks around. “Where’s Picasso?”
Landon peers through the serving hatch into the living room. “He was here just a minute ago.”
Picasso barks again and Asher’s face goes slack. “It sounds like he might be in Kit’s bedroom.”
Oh no.
I stand in front of the entryway to my kitchen. “No, he isn’t.”
A growling sound erupts followed by a deep bark.
And then…
“Bishop, you better get this perverted dog out of here before I Old Yeller his ass.”
Asher stands up so fast he knocks his stool over. “Who was that?”
“No one—a neighbor.” I twirl a finger around my head. “He’s a little crazy.”
“I’ll say,” Breslin yells. “He just threatened to shoot my dog.”
Before I can stop them, they bum rush me out of the kitchen and run into my bedroom.
Where we find Picasso standing on his hind legs playfully tugging on Preston’s boxers.
Not that anyone cares what Picasso’s doing, everyone’s too busy staring open-mouthed at Preston who’s still very much handcuffed to my bed.
Landon’s the first to speak. “Is this where he’s been all this time?”
As if on cue, they all turn to me.
I laugh nervously. “This isn’t what you think…we’re not…he’s not Prescott.” That only confuses everyone more. “What I mean is…I know how this looks, but it’s not like that. I’m a lesbian.”
“He’s covered in bruises.” Asher grinds out. “It looks like someone beat the shit out of him.”
“Someone did—” I start to say until Preston issues me a silent warning. “I—um…”
Breslin’s expression falls. “Kit, honey please tell me you didn’t—”
Asher charges in my direction. “What did you do to my brother, you little bitch?”
I’m about to shit a brick, but Landon and Breslin jam themselves between us.
Breslin’s positively fuming. “What is wrong with you, Ash—”
A loud bang followed by a deep voice cuts her off mid-sentence.
“Call my wife a bitch again and I’ll make you eat this bedframe.” The broken bedframe Preston’s cuffed to rattles. “And if you ever charge her like that again I will fucking kill you.”
His voice is so lethal and the look in his eyes is so sinister I fight back a shiver.
I open my mouth to clear everything up, but everyone loses their goddamn minds and it’s downright pandemonium.
“Your wife?” Asher spits.
“As usual, he’s lying to you, Asher,” Breslin states with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “You heard what Kit said before. There’s no way she would marry Preston of all people. Not unless he was manipulating and threatening her.” She turns to me wide-eyed. “Oh, God. I knew something bad was going on.”
I shake my head. “No, Preston’s not—”
“Manipulating and threatening her?” Asher grits through his teeth. “Kit’s not the one chained to a bed.”
“Oh, please,” Breslin screams. “Kit’s harmless. Your brother on the other hand—is a dangerous thug with no regard for anyone but himself. Are you forgetting what happened with those bookies at Woodside? If you didn’t win the championship, they would have killed you. He used your life as collateral, Asher.” Agitation flares her nostrils. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, but that’s the kind of manipulating asshole he is.”
I feel myself wilt. Preston might not have fully realized the extent of his actions given Asher’s talent and skill. But technically, he did use his own brother to collect a debt he couldn’t pay. If things didn’t work out and Asher hadn’t won the championship game during our senior year of college…who knows what might have happened.
Panic claws at me with my next thought. Preston also said his brother was one of his exceptions.
“I know he does stupid stuff sometimes,” Asher says. “But you don’t know him like I do.”
Preston laughs sinisterly. “You don’t know me at all, shithead. Not anymore.”
It’s evident his comment crushes Asher and it sets Breslin off again. “Don’t talk to your brother like that. Not after everything you’ve put him through.”
“How I talk to my brother is none of your goddamn business.” Preston leans forward, his lip curling in a callous smirk. “I suggest you do us both a favor and stick to nagging your two boyfriends instead of me, fire cr—”
“Preston,” I hiss before it becomes a bloodbath in here. “Stop.”
“Let me out of these cuffs.” Preston glares daggers at me. “Now.”
If I let him go now, he’ll either commit homicide or leave and never come back. “I don’t—”
Asher wags a finger in my face. “Let him go, you little psycho.”
“Don’t tell her what to do,” Preston roars. “And the next time you stick your finger in her
face, I’ll break it.”
Asher gestures to his splint. “Like she broke yours.”
I’m honestly offended Asher thinks so little of me. “I didn’t break his finger, Cam—”
“Shut up, Kit,” Preston seethes. “I’ve got this.”
Breslin lunges for him. “Don’t tell my best friend to shut up.”
Asher stands between Breslin and Preston. “He’s only trying to defend himself against his attacker. It’s clear your little friend undid a few screws in my brother’s head. It’s why he’s being so mean to everyone. She probably brought him here and performed some kind of Jedi mind trick as payback for the Becca bullshit.”
Breslin throws her hands up. “Take off those rose-colored glasses and pull your head out of your ass, baby. Your brother’s been a royal prick for as long as I’ve known him.”
Asher points to himself. “Not to me.” He tilts his head toward Preston. “What did Kit do to you?”
I’ve had about enough of this. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Bullshit,” Asher snarls, his mouth twisting into a grimace. “I haven’t seen my brother in three years and the first time I do—he’s married to you and shackled to your bed.” He punches his chest. “Yet he’s treating me like I’m the fucking enemy here.”
Preston’s jaw works. “Leave Kit alone. It’s not her fault I hate you. It’s yours.”
Asher rears back, his expression going from annoyed to devastated.
Preston might not care about anyone in this room, but I do. I can’t keep them all in the dark like this. It’s not right. “You have to let me tell them, Preston.”
“Tell us what?” Asher bellows.
“See?” Breslin shouts. “I knew he was manipulating her.”
An ear-piercing whistle makes us all wince.
“Enough,” Landon roars. “You guys aren’t even talking, you’re attacking.” His eyes flick to Breslin. “I know you’re trying to defend and protect your friend, Bre. But accusing Preston of manipulating Kit and yelling at Asher isn’t solving any problems. It’s only creating more tension and drama.”
His eyes drift to Asher next. “I know you’re overwhelmed, and you have every right to be—but it’s pretty clear Preston’s not here against his will and Kit didn’t hurt him. I don’t think she’s capable of hurting anyone. Deep down I know you know that.”
