You are one to me. “Waiting for that one reason.”
“Well, fine, then. Let’s start with one.” A bit of a dramatic pause. “Because you hired Joshua.”
Hell. Her research had been thorough.
“I’m sure that Debra came to you, didn’t she?” Musing. “And asked you to help her nephew. After the car crash that killed his girlfriend, he was devastated. On a suicide watch. The guy took it extra hard because he was driving. He blamed himself.”
Yes, Joshua had blamed himself. The kid’s guilt had been eating him alive. Sometimes, guilt could destroy you from the inside, out.
“Her side of the vehicle took the impact,” Sloane continued, and there was sympathy underscoring her words. “He dragged her out, not knowing that her back was broken. Not knowing that she was literally dying in his arms.”
What if those bullets had hit you today? What if you’d died in my arms? Preston took a step toward her.
“It broke him when he lost her. Joshua flunked out of college. Couldn’t hold down a job. He was spiraling, and Debra knew it. So she came to you. You gave him a fresh start.”
“I gave the kid a job. Don’t make it out like I did some big, good deed.” He hadn’t. It had just been a job. “I owed Debra. She did a lot for me and my parents over the years. Hell, she still does a lot.” She pretty much gave him an all-access pass to the sheriff’s department and the town whenever he wanted it. “Getting her nephew a job was no big deal.” He found himself closing more of the distance between them. “Joshua is smart. He’s dedicated.”
“Dedicated to you.” A careful emphasis. “I know hero worship when I see it.”
A bark of laughter came from him. “I’m no one’s hero.”
Her stare studied him carefully. “That’s still up for debate.”
No, it wasn’t. It hadn’t been debatable since he’d been a teen. Time to change the subject. “You heard what Joshua said about you.”
“Yes, I was eavesdropping on the staircase.”
He almost smiled at her. A real smile. But he caught himself just in time. He liked the way she flat-out admitted to eavesdropping. Now, if she’d just keep being that honest with him?—
“I never told Cody to kill for me. We should be clear on that.” She stared him straight in the eyes. “I never asked my former boyfriend to kill my parents. I never wanted anyone to kill my mother and stepdad. I loved them.”
Preston stood right in front of her. His hand rose, and he brushed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. A thick, soft lock of hair. Slightly damp still.
“I want to be honest with you.”
“Great. Fabulous. I want you to be honest.” Lies didn’t appeal to him. She appeals to me, though. Everything about her.
Her dark gaze searched his. A slow, steadying breath eased from her. “There is something else you need to know about your biological father.”
His back teeth clenched. He stepped back, letting his hand fall from her. She’d already told him a few truths. Maybe it was time for him to repay the favor. Maybe neither one of us should lie. “I knew the Last Breath Killer was my father. Before your big confession.”
Her eyes widened.
“He told me.” There. Done. Said. “I was in the coffin. I was awake. He hadn’t started to put dirt over me. He called out, told me…”
I can still hear the bastard’s voice. Always, in his nightmares, that voice would come to screw with his head.
Preston cleared his throat. “He told me that I would be like him. He said he’d searched for me. Looked so hard. That my mother had tried to hide me, but it wouldn’t work. Guy said, just flat out said, ‘Your father has found you.’”
Those stupid, life-changing words.
Your father has found you.
“Preston…”
She stared at him with sympathy in her eyes. When she should be looking at him like he was a monster.
He marched for the den. For all those big windows that stared out at the mountains. “‘Take a deep breath,’” Preston said, remembering. “‘Pray it’s not your last.’”
