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He still couldn’t believe the last thing she said to him. There was a small part of him that hoped her words had been merely a tool to push him away. But the pain was still there.Do you honestly think that it would be easy for me to look at you and not see what happened to my brother?
Her words still haunted him.
The rest of the day followed with more of the same. Dax kept to himself and did every chore that was required of him. He fully planned on skipping dinner, but someone mentioned Sarah and he slowed his steps as he passed the kitchen.
“I can’t believe it. Do you think Dax knew?”
“I doubt it. I think we would have all heard about it if even one person knew. I just can’t figure out why she was here. Do you think it was some undercover thing?”
“No way. A girl like Sarah Newton lowering herself to our lev—” The young man speaking met Dax’s gaze, then dropped his focus to his plate and took a large bite of his food. The others glanced in his direction and did the same.
Dax entered the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded. “What about Sarah?”
They all shifted uncomfortably.
“Come on, guys. She’s been gone a month. Do you really think I care if you’re talking about her?”
The three young men exchanged glances with one another. The first one who’d spoken swallowed hard and pushed a newspaper toward the edge of the table. Dax pulled away from the doorway and picked up the paper. On the front page was a picture of a small family. A mother, father, and adult daughter. All were smiling, but not in a genuine way. It definitely looked like the kind of relationship she had with her family.
The title of the article read, “Billionaire Business Owners Welcome Daughter.”
Billionaire.
He scanned the article, picking out bits and pieces that lined up with the things Sarah had told him. She’d finished her schooling, and she’d gotten hired by her family to run the financial firm. Part of the arrangement was a large sum of money.
His stomach roiled, churning with disgust.
Money. That’s all people cared about these days. No one placed value on the hard-working man who broke his back to make ends meet. Was that why she broke it off with him? Her family wouldn’t approve of their relationship?
Dax glowered, throwing the newspaper down on the table. She was just like the rich people he’d encountered before. She didn’t care about people or feelings. She’d had a plan, and she’d stuck to it. He was probably just one of her playthings—a passing fancy.
Dax spun on his heel and charged out of the kitchen toward the bedroom of the one guy he knew would have some liquor. Blindly, he dug through the mess in the man’s drawers until he found the small glass bottle. His fingers wrapped around the familiar shape and feel of the cool glass, and he stormed from the room.
He could already taste the hot burning sensation, his memories filling the void that had been left in his heart. The whiskey would slide down his throat and leave a trail of fire in its wake. There was only one thing he knew for certain.
He’d been more in love with Sarah than he’d realized. And she’d turned out to be just as bad as he had. She was probably with her ex-boyfriend right now, laughing at all the poor people she’d met while she was at Slate Rock Ranch. She’d managed to hide everything from him, and he’d eaten up her lies as she’d served them up to him on a silver platter.
Dax burst through the door and headed blindly as far from the house as he could get. He didn’t need the others to witness his destruction. That much was clear. All he wanted was to feel numb again. He didn’t want to experience the pain brewing in his heart. Maybe he could have handled a breakup on its own. But to know that she’d broken up with him not only because she thought less of him but also because of his own stupid mistakes, that was the final straw.
He pulled himself up short as he arrived at a large oak tree. His eyes dipped to the bottle in his hand, the weight of it almost grounding him. The amber liquid sloshed around in the small square casing, calling to him, begging him to return to a time when he was happy.
No, it wasn’t happiness.
It was oblivion. And that was exactly where he needed to be.
With his left hand, he spun the lid from the bottle and lifted it, stopping when the glass rim was only a few inches from his lips. The familiar smell of the whisky burned his nostrils. It would be so easy to take a sip. To forget for just a few hours about the pain and the betrayal. He could do it without anyone knowing.
His hand lowered and his eyes glazed over as he continued staring at the whiskey.
He’d know. And a small part of him knew that Eve would too.
His face crumpled into an expression of pure agony, and he launched the bottle at a tree. The glass shattered, spraying the immediate surroundings with small, sharp particles and drops of alcohol.
Dax dug both hands into his hair. He’d come so close to losing everything—all the progress he’d worked so hard for—and for what? A woman? If it was any other woman, he’d have brushed it off already. Why couldn’t he shake her?
He headed for the barn, whether out of habit or for the sanctuary it offered and settled down on a straw bale. A few minutes later, a shadow crossed the doorway and he glanced up to find Brielle headed toward her horse’s stall. She didn’t seem to notice him. Good. He wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone.
She would inevitably bring up Sarah and that was the last thing he wanted to discuss. He remained hunched over, staring at the straw beneath his boots.
