I dig into my pocket for my cell and curse when I come up empty. It's most likely with the police, which means I won't be seeing it until they determine I can.

I eye the hospital phone in the room and frown. Buster doesn't pick up unknown numbers.

My body tenses and the walls around me start closing in.

I need to get out of here. Now.

But I can't, not only because my car is still at the school, but they won't discharge me until I speak to someone.

Screw that.

I'm not talking to some shrink in exchange for my freedom. I'm over eighteen. These people can go kick rocks.

The only reason I came here in the first place was to see what happened to Landon.

And her.

I run my tongue along the small cut on my bottom lip, tasting the hint of copper.

Fuck her. If Kit wants to get tangled up in Becca's web of deceit all over again, I'm not going to stand in her way.

Don't even know why I bothered to in the first place.

She was nothing more than an itch to scratch. An escape. A girl I thought about non-stop because I didn't want to settle down with the girl who trapped me.

Bullshit.

I rub the knot forming in my neck and blow out a breath.

Bullshit or not, it doesn't matter. Kit's not only obsessed with Becca, she bats for the other team. No amount of persistence on my part will change that.

Besides, what could I offer her anyway?

Her last statement might have pissed me off, but only because it's the truth.

I know exactly what kind of person I am. Hell, my list of habitual sins is well over a mile long.

Kit was right to walk away from me. Too bad she can't do the same when it comes to Becca.

I pick up the phone so I can call a cab and get out of here, but the sound of footsteps on the other side of the curtain has me pausing.

For a moment I think it's Kit, and my fucked-up heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

It slams to a stop altogether, though when I hear the nurse say, “The waiting room is filling up fast. You're much better off waiting in here for your girlfriend.”

“Thank you,” the angel of manipulation herself responds, and the infuriation that courses through me is enough to make my head ring.

“Sure thing, honey. Now, if you don't mind me asking, how far along are you? You look like you just walked off the cover of a glamour magazine. What's your secret?”

“I'm twenty—”

“Twenty-six weeks and five days.”

I yank open the curtain. “Although I guess it really depends on what day she screwed the guy she cheated on me with, now doesn't it?”

Just like that, the organ in my chest burns with rage for the bitch sitting across the room from me...and longing for the baby that isn't mine.

Becca's jaw nearly hits the floor before she recovers. “Are you lost, Preston?” She makes a show of looking around. “The casino is a few miles back.”

The nurse looks between us. “I'm going to see if I can make a room switch.”

I give Becca a shit-eating grin. I've got her right where I want her and she's not going anywhere.

“That won't be necessary. We're both adults, surely, we can handle being in the same room together. Right, baby face?”

I all but spit the word at her.

Becca smiles at the nurse. “We'll be fine.”

I don't catch what the nurse mutters to herself as she scurries out, because Becca gets out of her chair and walks over to me.

“What are you doing here?” She crinkles her nose. “I knew you had a thing for her, but I didn't think you progressed to full-on stalker.”

She clearly has no clue I was at Woodside today, or that I was trapped in an elevator with Kit.

I think I'll hold onto those cards.

“I'm not stalking her.” I cross my arms. “And I'd ask why you're here, but fortunately for me, I don't have to. I already know what a conniving and nasty piece of work you are.”

She runs a finger up my bicep. “Sounds like someone's butthurt about their fiancée leaving them for a girl.” She looks down. “I'd say it was about the paternity results, but we both know you never gave a damn about the baby.”

Anger pumps through my veins and I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. “Eat shit, you vile cunt.”

She takes a step back. “Whoa, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“My mother? No.” I thread my fingers through her hair, drawing her closer. “However, a sexy, gorgeous blonde.” When her eyes become hooded, I add, “With pink tips and a great ass...”

I smirk, inviting her to fill in the rest of that sentence on her own.

Becca glares daggers at me. “Cute, but I know for a fact Kit wouldn't go near you, let alone kiss you. Not only are you not her type, she's too infatuated with me.”

I lean forward. “Wanna bet?”

I'm level expert at Becca's games. Too bad she isn't when it comes to mine.

Her hand wraps around my nape. “Sure. Because I spent last night in her bed.”

Call.

I remove her hand. “I know.” Check. “She told me.”

She looks so confused, it almost hurts not to laugh.

“When?”

I start to answer but pause. I've had a sneaky suspicion burrowing in my gut since I walked out of that elevator.

Raise. “Not that it's any of your business, but I left her a voicemail last night and she called me back this morning.”

Her eyes light up and I know without a shadow of a doubt she knows exactly what I'm referring to. “That's not possible.”

It's amusing how she's trying to call my bluff. Little does she know the hand I'm holding is a full house.

And I'm about to drop it on the wicked witch standing in front of me.

I stare her down. “I know it's not. Because you deleted my voicemail from her phone while you were there.”

She blanches and tries to turn away, but I snatch her arm. “Admit it.”

“Fine, but it was only because you left me no choice,” she snaps. “So I hope you enjoy reaping what you sowed, because this is only the beginning.”

Rage billows up my spine and I have to remind myself I'll never hit a woman, because if Becca was a dude, she'd be lying face down with no teeth left in her mouth.

Maybe then she'd stop spewing all her lies and bullshit.

She attempts to wrench out of my grasp, but I compress my hold. “Why do you like to hurt people, huh?”

It's not a rhetorical question, I'm genuinely curious why she's so miserable.

Her face twists and she raises her chin in defiance. “Why do you?” She jabs a finger in my chest. “You want to point fingers at me? Well, look in the fucking mirror, because you and I are cut from the same cloth.”

I stay silent, not only because I refuse to give her statement credence by acknowledging it—but I know if I give Becca enough rope, she'll end up hanging herself.

Preferably when Kit walks in.

“You can deny it all you want, but you know it's true,” Becca continues. “Just like you know deep down, underneath all those corrupt layers of yours—she'll never want you. No matter how many times you chase after her in a parking lot, or show up at her school to give her back her jewelry...none of it makes a difference. You'll never be her knight in shining armor. As far as she's concerned, you're nothing but the villain.” She wedges her leg between both of mine, grazing my balls with her knee. “Not only because the mere thought of your dick repulses her, but because she's still in love with me.”

An unexpected cocktail of wrath and jealousy surge through my blood. It's all I can do to remain still, not put my hands around her windpipe, and squeeze until she finally shuts the fuck up.

Her lips brush my cheek. “That's what really has you so wound up right now, isn't it? Whether I want her or not...I have her. In all the ways you never will.”

Dramatics aside, the validity of her words are like a sucker punch to the throat.

A royal flush to my lousy full house.

She flicks my ear with her tongue, like the slithering snake she is. “Funny thing is, I'm not even into pussy. But Kit? She makes quite an exception. Not only is she loaded, but the girl is so desperate and helplessly in love with me, she's putty in my hands. Someone I can use to satisfy every single need of mine.”

Her fingertips dance along my thigh. “You wouldn't believe how easy it was for her to forgive me. All I had to do was tell her I was sorry and say I missed her, and poof—she was ripping off my clothes and begging to make me come with her mouth.”

My heart rate accelerates and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop the wave of lust and hatred that slams into me.

Becca, cunning little whore she is, takes the opportunity to stroke her finger up the length of my cock. “I'd forgotten how good she was at eating pussy. So eager to please.” She rubs my tip, smirking when it thickens. “Like she can never get enough of it.”

I yank her hand away. “Then what exactly did you need from me?”

When her brows draw together in confusion I add, “You said it yourself—Kit's not only easy for you to manipulate, she has way more money than I do. Not to mention, she'll keep believing your lies and taking you back. It makes me wonder why you chose me over her when she was clearly the better choice for you.”

Everyone has a motive for doing the things they do, good or bad.

But that's not why I'm asking her. I know Becca well enough to know her answer to my question will be whatever fits her agenda best.

It's what I'm counting on.

As much as I wish it wasn't true, Becca's not wrong about Kit.

The fact that she accepted Becca back with open arms combined with the things she said earlier proves it.

And while I don't understand it, because love isn't an emotion I can wrap my head around. I know it's Kit's weakness.

Hell, I could go to her right now and tell her everything Becca just told me, but she won't believe a word of it. She'll either make excuses or convince herself I made it up. And that's before Becca can work her magic.

Kit's a lover. Despite being a little spit-fire, that heart of hers is as big and deep as the Pacific.

She's a good person. A good person who draws in all the bad ones like a moth to a flame.

Becca will keep siphoning whatever she can out of her until there's nothing left of her heart but an empty space. A vacant part that no longer works.

I don't want that to happen.

I don't want her to keep giving all she has to offer to someone who doesn't appreciate or deserve it.

And as much as I wish it was me who could be that someone, I know it won't ever be. It can't.

Not only because she's a lesbian, but because me and Becca are more alike than I care to admit.

Which means I need to do this now before it's too late.

If I don't, she'll not only continue being Becca's pawn, but she'll also earn herself a spot on my hit list of people I use when it's convenient for me to do so.

Unfortunately, there's only one way to permanently take those blinders off her for good.

My own fucked up theory of utilitarianism.

I have to smash her heart into a million pieces in order to protect her and hope that when she puts it back together, she'll remember the lesson without being too jaded to ever fall for someone again.

Someone better than the bitch in front of me.

I cup Becca's cheek. “You gonna answer me?”

She's so surprised by my touch, she startles. “Isn't it obvious?”

I shake my head and something flashes in her eyes.

For a moment, I fear she's not going to give me the answer I'm anticipating. The one I'll need in order to do this.

I soften my gaze and run my thumb over her bottom lip. Lure her into my entrapment.

She closes her eyes in pain briefly and if I didn't know any better, I'd almost believe the next words out of her mouth.

“I really loved you, Preston.”

A tear falls down her cheek. It's impressive how good of an actress she is. Maybe that's where she should set her sights next.

“You were always so distant and cold, and I knew you didn't feel the same about me, but I didn't care. I still loved you.” She looks down. “I slept with a guy I shouldn't have right before we started dating. Looking back, I should have told you, but I didn't think it mattered. Not until I saw two lines on a pregnancy test.”

This isn't a conversation I want to be having. Not because I have any lingering feelings for her, but because of the ones I still have for the child she's carrying.

I don't know what to do with these leftover feelings for a baby that's not mine. Where exactly are they supposed to go?

Agitation locks my jaw and I have to remind myself not to fall into the obvious trap she's setting out for me.

“I should have told you then, but I wanted the baby to be yours. For a while, I honestly thought he was. And the more time that passed, the more I convinced myself of it.”

Her lips pull tight. “Then you brought up having a paternity test again and I got scared because I knew I fucked up by not telling you in the beginning.” She rubs her belly. “I know we can't change the past and I don't expect you to believe me, but I'll always be sorry for what I did to you. There are so many things I wish I could take back.”

The pain in my chest is so sharp I damn near keel over.

Not because I believe her. I don't. If she was sorry, she would have come clean about the possibility that he wasn't mine. She wouldn't have tried to blackmail me into marrying her.

If she was truly sorry, she would have called me right after she received the paternity results. Not run off to Kit to ensure she not only hurt me but also had a backup plan.

No, the girl standing before me with crocodile tears in her eyes isn't sorry, and she most certainly doesn't love me. I'm pretty sure she'll never comprehend the concept of something so unselfish.

Not that I'm much better, but she crossed lines I never would in her quest to get what she wanted.

Until now.

I bring my other hand to her face and bridge the distance, kissing her gently. Showing her far more kindness than I ever have in the past. Far more than what she did to me warrants.

She's too taken back by my gesture to return the kiss at first, but then she does...and my stomach recoils.

If she tastes another woman on my lips, she doesn't say it when she pulls away. “What was that for?”

“I'm going to ask you this once and once only, got it?” The acrimony in my voice has returned.

She nods, looking wary. “Okay.”

“Me or her? And I suggest you choose wisely because I won't be giving you another opportunity.”

She looks at me in awe. “You.” She scrunches her face. “I thought you hated me.”

I do.

“You thought wrong. Hearing how much you love me and how sorry you are—”

“I do love you. And I am sorry,” she interjects, placing her hand on my chest.

I flash her some dimple. “Is that so?”

She nods earnestly, and I look down, gesturing to my erection that's now at half-mast.

“Then why don't you take care of this for me. Get on your knees and prove how sorry you really are.”

Her eyes go dark with lust and she kneels on the floor. “You didn't want this the other night.”

I tug down my zipper. “Things change. Now take it out and suck it. If you do a good job, I'll let you come back home. I may even fuck that dirty little cunt of yours in my bed.”

If she's offended at being so debased, she doesn't show it. Quite the opposite.

She goes in for the kill, eagerly taking me into her mouth.

I grab the back of her head and make her choke on it before I come to my senses. The last thing I need is to leave any room for doubt when Kit walks in.

I remove my hands and fold them behind my head. “Tell me how much you want me. How much you love me and my cock.”

Nausea twists my insides because I don't want this Venus flytrap anywhere near me. Not even for the privilege of sucking me off.

Becca must tell my interest in her isn't what it once was because she starts going at my shaft full force, gagging herself to the point of tears.

“I fucking love your big cock, Preston,” she says between long slurps that end with spit dribbling down her chin.

I close my eyes and pretend like it's not her mouth around me but someone else's.

A certain angry girl with a gorgeous scowl. The girl I've never been able to stop thinking about since the moment we met.

Which utterly baffles me because it's not like we were lovers or friends.

We were nothing more than two ships passing in the night.

And yet...I know without a doubt she's the one person I'd do anything for. Whether or not it makes sense to me or anyone else.

Kit Bishop is in my veins.

But unfortunately for me, she's the drug I'll never be able to indulge in and the high I can't chase.

She's nothing more than an illusion. It's all she'll ever be.

I grunt and thrust my hips, fighting like hell to keep my hands behind my head as a sick fantasy of Kit pleasuring me starts to play out in my mind.

It's impeccable timing too, because a moment later; two things happen.

One—Becca repeats her last statement.

And two—I open my eyes and meet a pair of devastated hazel ones.

Kit doesn't yell or start crying like I expect her to. Like I want her to—not even when Becca tilts her head to look at her briefly before going back to my dick.

Instead, she clutches the spot over her heart, almost like the organ itself is physically breaking—all while staring at me like I'm the culprit. The one who should be held accountable for the impact.

The person responsible for this crash.

Because I am.

The muscles in my chest draw tight with regret—but I ignore it, part my lips, and utter a low moan.

Kit's still staring at me, so I harden my gaze. “Fuck, you're gonna make me come soon.”

Becca's response is to speed up her movements and I give Kit a sly smirk of satisfaction.

I want her away from Becca for good. I need her to finally see Becca for what she is.

She starts to turn away, but pauses, sparing me one last glance. This time, there are tears in her eyes. “Preston.”

My name comes out in a choked whisper, like a small wounded animal on their last breath.

It makes me hate myself for tarnishing something so goddamn precious.

Every cell in my body wants to shove Becca away and tell Kit why I did this, but I can't because she runs out of the room.

Leaving me with nothing but the mess I made.

Exactly like I wanted her to.

I look down in disgust at the Antichrist who still has her lips wrapped around me. Seething, I grab the back of her head and fuck her lying, cheating, whore mouth furiously.

The small hint of satisfaction I get from watching her choke so hard on my climax that it comes out of her eight-thousand-dollar nose does little to dull the contempt I have for her.

When she makes to stand, I snap my fingers and point to my scrotum. “Clean off my balls.”

She does as told and I'm torn between wanting to laugh at her pathetic ass, and wanting to ask if the jizz she's lapping off my nutsack tastes as acrid as my feelings for her now are—but I don't want to spend another second breathing the same air she is.

Fortunately for me, I no longer have to.

I tuck myself back in my pants and stride past her.

“Where are you going?” she calls out when I reach the doorway.

I bite back a smile. “Well, this is awkward.”

I look over my shoulder at her. “That was your parting gift. I thought our relationship should end the same way it began...with you on your knees.”

The smug look on her face throws me. “Guess we both got what we wanted then.” When I stay silent, she adds, “You wanted Kit to hate me. But unfortunately for you, you ended up playing right into my hand instead.” She stands up and wipes the corner of her mouth before licking her thumb. “I believe gamblers call it bluffing, right?”

My jaw works and I shake my head. I won't waste my energy going round and round with her anymore. For the first time in my life, I'm folding. I'm done with her and there's not a damn thing she can ever do or say to change that.

“Have a nice life, Becca.”

I'm one foot out the door when it happens.

“Preston,” she screeches, her voice shaky and sharp.

I'm about to tell Becca to dial down the dramatics and save them for someone who gives a fuck, but then she screams, “Help.”

When I make the mistake of turning around...the thing beating in my chest freezes before it drops to the floor.

Where the blood running down her legs is starting to pool at her feet.