Page 63 of Saving His Heart

Emory

With newfound confidence, I lead the she pack into the lion’s den. Following sounds of muted laughter, we find them crowded together in the family room. The babies are playing happily in the center of their circle.

This is not your standard suite. There are rooms—so many rooms within the suite. I swear it’s bigger than my father’s entire house. Someone has transformed the dining room across the hall from where they sit into a magical oasis. It looks as though someone recreated an entire scene from a fairytale, and I lose my momentum for a minute. Leave it to Julia to fuel the fire.

“Remember, you’re on a mission.”

Turning, I see all the women, my new friends, all standing behind me with their arms crossed, scowling at the offender.

“Jesus, I thought the Westbrook boys traveling in a pack was scary. You guys have nothing on the she-wolves over there,” Trevor tells the room.

My eyes don’t leave Preston as he scans the room and does a double-take when he lands on me.

“Oh shit,” he whispers.

“Dude, what did you do? Even Mom looks pissed,” Colton says from behind him.

“Ah—”

“Well, don’t keep them waiting, Preston. I don’t want the she-wolves to turn on the rest of us,” Dexter says, giving Preston a little nudge.

“Ladies?” Preston says, taking tentative steps toward me. His smile falters only momentarily. “Everything alright?”

“No. Everything is not ‘alright’.”

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?”

“You already know what I’m pissed about, don’t you?”

“Well, I may have an idea,” he says while grabbing the back of his neck.

“You’re pinching your neck! That’s your tell. You know what you did was wrong.”

“She’s got you there, Preston,” East chimes in.

“Listen, how about we go into the bedroom and talk in private?” he asks, but he is already guiding me down the hall, so I shrug out of his hold.

God, this jerk. I want to kick him right in the shins. As soon as we hit the bedroom, I spin on him.

“How could you do this, Preston? I’m already a sinking ship trying to figure out how to pay you back for my father. How the hell am I ever going to come up with Tilly and Eli’s tuition to UNC-Chapel fucking Hill? You can’t just go around playing in people’s lives. I’m barely holding it together as it is. This is my family you’re screwing with, and I won’t let you. How dare you just take over without speaking to anyone? Do you have any idea how much this is going to crush them when I have to tell them we can’t accept?”

“Are you done?”

His condescending tone makes me violent in ways I’ve never even imagined before.

“Done?” I say, stepping into his personal space as he sits on the edge of the bed. “No, Preston. I am not ‘done’ by a long shot. Just because you have more money than you know what to do with does not mean you get to buy me. I’m not for sale. My sisters are not for sale. What is it exactly that you expect to gain by doing this? I’ve already slept with you, what else do you want from me?”

Slowly, he stands. I thought he looked pissed off in my father’s home, but that Preston has nothing on the one standing before me now.

“What do I want from you, Emory? I don’t want anything,” he says in a tone so cold my body wants to curl in on itself. “All I’ve ever wanted, Emory, is you. You are mine, are you not? That means your family is mine. Now and forever. So when your family is struggling, I am, too. Letting you struggle through life is not how my family works. If we can fix something, we do. Get used to that. As far as you being for sale? Don’t you dare, ever, speak about yourself that way again. I swear to God, Emory. The rage I’m feeling right now at those comments is not even human, so don’t ever say that shit to me again.”

“Preston, you can’t just throw money at people. Life doesn’t work that way,” I scream.

“I’m not throwing money at you. I’m throwing money at a fucking miserable situation to make it better. That’s what I do, and you’re not the only one so you can get off your warped sense of integrity and accept the help I’m offering.”

I feel sick to my stomach. “Oh, oh my God. Are you sleeping with other people? Fixing them, too? Is that what you mean? You find broken girls and try to fix them because you can’t fix yourself?”

“Sit. Down. Emory.”