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THERE. HE’D DONE IT. Ripped the bandage off.
Penta regarded him with a puzzled expression, teeth worrying her bottom lip. “I don’t understand.”
Cash had expected her to start today’s conversation with it’s not you, it’s me. When she hadn’t, when her first words had been concern about his appearance, his heart had kicked with a jolt of joy. He’d had to remind himself that breaking up was best for her and hadn’t allowed himself to weaken. When she’d revealed how Cyril had been compelled to bring Elle to the party, how he’d risked his own life to protect her—all because of Cash—it had only strengthened his resolve.
“Middle of July, I went back to the bar. The one where I almost killed a man.” Might as well be blunt. It would make it easier for Penta to accept reality. “Don’t know why I did. Hadn’t been back since I got out. Tyrone was there. We used to be friends. Grew up together. A while later, he comes to the shop, offers to bring me biker gang business. I refused, told him I didn’t need or want it. Must have pissed him off more than I realized. Elle and Cyril came in while he was there. Tyrone recognized Cyril as one of TJ’s buddies. That probably gave him the idea. How to punish me.” Thank god Penta hadn’t been there. Tyrone might have felt some restraint even as he used kids to get his revenge. If he’d known about Penta, knew that Cash loved her, who knew what nightmare he might have come up with.
As he waited stoically for Penta to come to the obvious conclusion, he had time to consider that revelation.
He loved Penta. The thought of losing her made him feel hollow, empty, numb. But dragging her deeper into the fiasco that was his life was not an option. He had to let her go.
“Let me get this straight.” Penta reached behind her, found the back of the sofa, and leaned against it. “TJ threatened to wreck your shop to force Cyril and Elle to come to the party. And he did that because his father wanted to punish you for refusing to work for criminals?”
He worked his way through that and nodded.
“What a fucking asshole!” She exploded off the couch, fists flying, curls bouncing. “He took your friendship and turned it against you, then put our kids in danger. I’m going to kill him!”
Cash gaped. He’d never heard Penta curse before. And realizing her fury wasn’t directed at himself made him dizzy.
He loved her so much. Too bad it didn’t matter.
“We have to stop seeing each other, Penta.” He tasted iron in his mouth, as if the words made his gums bleed. “It’s over. It’s all over.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Penta’s furious gesticulations froze. “What? Why?”
He didn’t want to spell it out, but knew it was the only way to get her to agree. She wasn’t the type to give up, not Penta. Not even when giving up was what she should do.
“Linda was right, all these years. Right to keep me from Elle. I’ve barely been in her life two months and she was almost raped.”
Penta flinched. He loved that she wore rose-coloured glasses, but it was time she took them off.
He spoke harshly, determined to make her see. “It doesn’t matter how hard I try to escape it. My past will always be there, ready to ruin the lives of people I love.”
“But that’s not—”
“Don’t.” He held his palm toward her like a traffic cop. “Don’t say it’s not fair or that it doesn’t matter. It’s the truth. Why do you think Cyril brought Elle to the party?”
Her brow furrowed. “I told you. To save your shop from being vandalized again.”
“No. He did it because he’s scared of me. If he felt safe, trusted me, he would have told us. Instead, he thought he had to handle it on his own because he was frightened of what I might do. Maybe not to him, but to his friends.”
“They’re not his friends.” Her tone was flat, determined, as if saying it would make it so. And maybe on the surface she was right. But underneath, where it counted, she was wrong.
Cyril was bound to those degenerates for the rest of his life, just like Cash was bound to Tyrone. The only chance he had to break free would be if Cash was out of his life. Which meant out of Penta’s.
Her lips puffed belligerently. “You’re wrong about Cyril being scared of you. He respects you, maybe even more than he does me. You’ve been a good influence on him, not a bad one.”
He closed his eyes briefly, lanced to the core by her misplaced compliments. She was making it so much harder. If she wouldn’t admit that breaking off their relationship was the best for everyone, he would have to accomplish his goal using another tactic. One he’d hoped desperately to avoid.
He would have to send her away. And he knew just the buttons to press.
Speaking as bitterly, as coldly, as he knew how, he said, “Are you going to discipline him for going to the party?”
She stiffened, rearing back, her chin lifting. “I think his hangover was punishment enough. Besides, he had the best of intentions. Everything he did, he did to protect others. Why would I punish him for that?”
“The best way to protect Elle would have been to leave her alone. And I can take care of myself and my shop.” He felt sick using this weapon, but he had to make Penta abandon him, needed her so furious she would never want to see him again.
