Page 109 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

DEAN

I woke up before the alarm. Anytime I set the alarm knowing there was something important I had to wake up for, there was something in me that panicked I would oversleep. That always led to me getting no sleep and checking the time every fifteen minutes.

My head throbbed from the restless night, my mind spinning like a tire stuck in mud. Portia’s face kept flashing in my thoughts. The way she’d looked at me when I told her to leave for San Francisco. Her disappointment and hurt would haunt me for the rest of my days. I shouldn’t be all that surprised that I had screwed this up before it even started.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand over my face. The clock on the nightstand had been staring at me all damn night. It was a quarter to six, far earlier than I had set my alarm for. Court wasn’t until nine, but I knew sleep wasn’t coming back. Might as well get up and face it.

I turned the shower temp way down, wanting the chilly water to wake me up and help snap me out of the funk I found myself in. It didn’t work. Nothing ever did. By the time I stepped out, my head was no clearer. I toweled off and stared at myself in the fogged-up mirror. My eyes were bloodshot, shadows carved deep underneath them.

“Get it together,” I muttered to my reflection.

I dressed quickly—black suit, white shirt, no tie. Simple. Clean. Not that it mattered what I wore today. This wasn’t about presentation. This was about keeping Seth out of jail. Again. I made myself coffee and took it outside to my patio. I could see the rental in the distance. She was in there. I told myself it would be so easy to walk over there and ask her to stay. I had a feeling she might actually agree to do it.

But dammit, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to stay. I just knew it would end up being a disaster. With Seth’s bullshit coming to a head, I didn’t want Portia’s business to be associated with the Jackson family drama. She couldn’t see it, but I could. I could see the way this thing was going to shake out.

I stared at the steam rising from my coffee, the bitterness of it matching the taste in my mouth. My eyes kept drifting back to her place, the blinds still drawn. She was probably packing. Hell, she was probably already gone. Why wouldn’t she be? I’d given her every reason to leave.

I let out a long breath, the weight of it all pressing down on my chest. I didn’t deserve her. Not even close. She was light—bright and full of this relentless energy that made you want to believe in something bigger, something better. And me? I was the anchor dragging everything down. Always had been, always would be.

I thought about the way she’d looked at me when I told her to go. Like I’d just ripped the rug out from under her. And maybe I had. But it was better this way. She didn’t need my mess following her around, tainting everything she worked so hard to build. She didn’t need Seth’s recklessness spilling into her life like gasoline on a fire. I’d spent years trying to clean up after him, and no matter how hard I tried, it always blew up in my face.

I couldn’t do that to her.

How many times had I told myself I wouldn’t get involved with anyone? How many times had I sworn I’d never let someone get close enough to hurt them—or worse, for them to hurt me? And yet, there she was, slipping past every wall I’d built without even trying. She’d walked into my life with that damn smile and those sharp green eyes, and I’d let her. I’d let her in, and now I was paying for it.

The coffee had gone cold by the time I finished it. I took one last look at the rental one last time. If I didn’t leave now, I’d be late for court, and that wasn’t an option. Not today. Seth was counting on me, even if he didn’t deserve it. I was hoping to talk to his attorney before the hearing. I wanted to find out if a deal had been reached. I had delivered a suit for Seth a few days ago. If he was going to face a judge, I wanted him to look like a respectable man and not some damn hoodlum.

I grabbed my keys and headed for my bike. I rolled past the house and glanced over again. She should leave. She should take that job in San Francisco and never look back. She deserved better than this town, better than me.

The courthouse loomed ahead, its brick facade looking more ominous than usual. I parked and walked through security. I knew one of the security guards. He seemed surprised by my attire. I didn’t blame him. I never wore a suit. It felt too small even though it had been tailored to me.

I walked into the courtroom filled with worried family members. I had a feeling a lot of us had done this dance more than once. I found an empty spot behind the defendant’s table and sat down.

The bench was hard beneath me. I kept my arms crossed tight over my chest, my fingers digging into my biceps hard enough to leave marks. The judge’s voice droned on as one case after another was heard. Finally, Seth’s case was called. He was brought in wearing the suit I’d bought him. It was dark navy, tailored, the kind of thing that made him look respectable. Like someone who belonged in a courtroom defending people instead of the guy sitting in a jail cell.

He glanced over his shoulder once. We made eye contact. Thankfully, it didn’t look like anyone else had used his face as a punching bag. He looked away and stayed standing until his attorney gestured for him to sit.

I was nervous. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he was feeling.

The judge adjusted her glasses, flipping through paperwork with deliberate slowness. “Seth Jackson, you have been charged with destruction of private property and reckless endangerment.” Her voice was dry, impersonal. “Given your reckless reputation with countless charges that have been dismissed, no more. The nature of your actions was thoughtless. I am sentencing you to six months in county jail. I hope you’ll use that time to think about your past decisions and get to a place where you’ll make better choices in the future.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Six months.

It could’ve been worse. Should’ve been worse, honestly. But the number still hit me like a punch to the gut. I think I actually expected him to walk out of here today with me. When I walked in here, I was prepared to have the tough conversation with him about getting out of town for a while. I was prepared to buy him a plane ticket to some small town where no one knew him and he didn’t know anyone.

That wasn’t going to happen. He was actually going to do time.

Seth turned, his face pale, eyes wide and darting to me like I could somehow fix this. Like I’d always fixed things before. The look on his face—pure, unguarded fear—sent a wave of nausea rolling through me.

Fuck decorum.

I stood, leaning over the short wall that separated us. The bailiff shot me a warning look, but I didn’t care.

“Listen to me,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Six months is nothing. You’ll be out before winter.”

Seth’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Dean⁠—”