Chapter 17 (Asher)
Landon shifts his car into drive and we peel out of the parking lot. “Where should we start?”
“I don't know,” I tell him, my anxiety coming to a peak. “There are some big games happening tonight, but none this early. He has to be at a casino of some kind.” I look out the window. “Problem is—I'm not really familiar with this area so I don't know any.”
Landon types something into his GPS. “There's a 24-hour one a few towns over.”
“Let's start there,” I say and Landon reaches over the console for my hand.
I entangle our fingers together and fight thoughts of Breslin—because this was always our thing.
But she doesn't want me anymore. She won't even give me a chance to try and fix my mistakes.
My heart burns and I grab Landon's hand harder...because for the first time in a long time, I'm thinking that I might be worthy of happiness again, despite my monumental fuck-ups. He makes me believe that I am.
Landon's brown eyes find mine and he raises my hand to his lips. “We'll find him.”
I muster a smile and the weight in my chest loosens. Because Landon Parker has a way of making everything better. Connecting with him has proven to be more than what I could have ever bargained for.
And more than what I deserve.
He's my second chance at something I never thought I would find again...if only the guilt surrounding my heart would let me take it.
Because she deserves him more than I ever will.
But there's not enough of him to go around...because good things like him are few and far between.
Which means there's only one solution at my disposal.
Bile rises in my throat because I don't want to give him up. I want to be selfish and keep him—just as much as I want my Breslin back.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Dragoni today?” Landon questions, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I say. “Turns out he doesn't really care about his niece getting into a fight. He's more concerned about the upcoming game.”
Landon's other hand grips the steering wheel. “I guess that's a good thing.”
“Sort of.” I rub the knot forming in my neck. “But me bringing up Breslin made her a target, so there's that.”
“Fuck,” Landon mutters. “I hate this.”
“Me too.”
Rage simmers in my gut. I've never hated my brother and I still don't, but I'm so fucking mad at him I want to break something, preferably his face.
We pull up to the casino and I say a silent prayer that he's here, because as far as casinos go—this one is lacking. Which means there's a chance that Preston didn't go overboard and they'll be more likely to cooperate.
Preston's tried to explain his gambling issue in the past, but it's never really made any sense to me. The only thing I can compare it to is the high I get from winning a game.
That's the way Preston feels when he rolls the dice and wins. He said it's contagious. Like he's on top of the world and can do no wrong and every problem he has falls by the wayside when he's winning.
But when I find him slumped over a blackjack table with a large pile of chips in front of him, a stale beer in his hand, and a disgruntled dealer, I can't help but wonder how he doesn't see what a huge problem this is, because this isn't winning. Not even close.
I guess that's why they call it an addiction, though. Not all of them result in a needle sticking out of your arm in the back of an alley.
Sometimes it's the functioning and socially acceptable addictions like the one he has that are more dangerous. And sooner or later...it's all going to come to a head.
When I walk over to him with Landon in tow, he ignores me. Which only makes me angrier.
I haul his sorry ass up off the stool and slam him against the table. “I've been calling you since last night, asshole.”
Security guards rush over to us but I pay them no mind.
“She's pregnant,” Preston says, looking more frightened than I've ever seen him. “And it's mine.”
My stomach drops to the floor, because that right there is what I've been secretly fearing ever since Kit dropped the bomb.
“Okay, one problem at a time.” I look around. “First, how much of Dad's money did you blow in the last 24-hours?”
He snickers. “Come on now, brother. You already know the answer to that.” He taps his temple. “You know I don't lose.”
Just as I suspected. He counted cards and took them to the cleaners. I breathe a sigh of relief because that makes this problem an easy one to handle.
“Did you swipe Dad's card here, though?”
“Yeah, I didn't have any money on me so I had to.”
I look at Landon. “Don't let him out of your sight.” When Landon gives me a questioning look I say, “I'm going to go talk to the owner.”
I sweep the large pile of chips into a bag and look at the security guards. “I'm sure they'll have no problem getting their money back considering they let him in illegally in the first place.”
One of the security guards shakes his head and leads me to an employee’s only room.
Twenty minutes later, the charges on my father's card are reversed and I say another prayer that he doesn't look at his bank statements this month and rip into him.
I give Preston's arm a squeeze and we head out of the casino.
When Preston starts walking past the car, I grab his shirt. “Where do you think you're going?”
He shoves me. “You're not my keeper, Asher.”
“No, but I am your brother. A brother who just saved your sorry ass...again.”
“Yeah, well, I didn't fucking ask you to this time, now did I?” His voice cracks with emotion and he grips his hair. “Besides you can't save me from this mess.” His eyes become glassy and he kicks a rock across the parking lot. “I'm not ready to have a fucking kid. I'm not even 20 yet.”
I look at Landon and he tips his chin at me before he gets inside his car, giving us a few minutes alone to talk.
“I know.” I take a step forward and wrap him up in a hug. He's scared out of his mind and I can't say that I blame him. Hell, I'm scared for him.
“We just moved in together and she hits me with this,” he whispers. “Dad's gonna fucking kill me.”
“You know I won't let that happen.”
He shakes his head. “I told you, you can't save me from this.” He all but chokes back a sob. “Becca's already talking about me going to the next doctor's appointment with her and getting married in the next few months.”
Of course, she is. “Look, I'm not trying to lay into you right now, but why the hell didn't you use a rubber?”
His eyebrows pinch together. “I did. Every fucking time. I guess I fell into the two-percent.” He laughs sardonically. “The one time the odds weren't in my favor.”
“She could be lying.” I stop and look him in the eyes. “Hell, she probably is lying, Preston. You've already caught her cheating on you.”
“I know,” he says. “But when I brought up doing a DNA test in the next few weeks, she legit flipped the hell out. She said she wasn't in her second trimester yet and that I was a horrible father for even suggesting such a thing because the test is dangerous to the baby.” His eyes become glassy again. “I'm already royally fucking this whole fatherhood thing up.”
Anger coils my insides and I find myself wishing Becca was a dude so I could beat the living snot out of her. I seriously regret stopping Breslin from kicking her ass now.
“Nah, man,” I say. “Don't let her fuck up your head and guilt you. You have every right to a paternity test. Especially if she's demanding you marry her before the baby is born.” I grip his collar, forcing him to look at me. “And if the baby is yours? You will make a good father, I know you will. And I'll be there for you every step of the way.”
He throws his arms around me. “Thank you.”
“You don't need to thank me. I'm your brother, asshole.”
He pulls away and looks up at the sky. “I don't know how I'm gonna tell Dad about this. He was fine when I told him that we moved in together...but marriage and a baby? You know how he is. He'll probably make me leave Yale and work for him as a punishment for fucking my life up.”
I grimace, because I wouldn't put it past him. “I'll go with you, if you want.” Irritation surges in my chest. “A word of advice, though? Wait a few months and get the paternity test done first. No use marrying the girl and riling Dad up if it's not even yours in the first place.”
“What about Becca? She's relentless.”
I want to tell him to leave the bitch and refuse to see or speak to her until the test results are in his hand, but if by some horrible chance the baby does turn out to be his? Becca seems like the type of person to use that against him. She'd tell their future kid all about how Daddy never wanted it, just to hurt Preston and cause his child to grow up hating him.
Therefore, the only thing I can do is give him the best brotherly advice I can think of.
“Go with her to her doctor’s appointments,” I tell him. “Make sure she eats and takes her vitamins. That's really all you can do until you know for sure. This way, you know you did everything that you could. Not for her...but for your child, and have no regrets.”
“She's gonna want to start planning a wedding.”
I shrug. “So, let her. No one says you have to be part of it.”
He looks down at the ground. “How's that girl doing by the way?”
“Kit?”
His face turns serious. “Yeah, she looked pretty devastated.”
“She is,” I say, gesturing to the car. “But I think in time she'll be okay. It's just going to hurt for a long while. Just like you, she was hit with not one, but two bombs hours apart from each other.”
“I had no idea Becca was seeing someone else, let alone a chick.”
“Sometimes people do shitty things and keep things from people that they shouldn't, brother.”
I slide into the passenger seat and reach for Landon's hand again.
“Speaking of which,” Preston says. “I'm glad you two found each other, given Breslin goes to Woodside there's no doubt she's bound to hurt you again if you let her.”
My hand tightens around Landon's and we ride in silence the rest of the way home.