Page 105 of Embracing the Beat
“Abbott, I’ve known you a long-ass time. Spit it the fuck out, or I’ll help you do it,” he growls.
“Pregnant.”
“You knocked up my baby sister?” His fingers clench into fists so tight the knuckles lighten until, taking a deep breath, he releases it along with the fists. “She’s mad at you because she’s pregnant?”
“Mad?”
“I heard her tell you to get the fuck out,” he reminds me, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.
A smile that fades when I don’t join in.
“There’s more,” he says.
I nod.
“What else?”
When I don’t answer, his hand slams down on the bar top, drawing attention from several of our neighbors.
“Fucking tell me.”
“I told her…” I don’t want to repeat it, the words carving up my insides as I remember the hurt and betrayal on her face when I uttered them the first time.
Whose is it?
“You told her what?”
Fuck.
“You told her what, Abbott?” Steel edges his voice. I’ve heard it before, but never directed at me.
“Hit me,” I tell him and finally look at him. Unlike his sister’s blue eyes, Sawyer’s are brown, the color so dark they’re almost black. And cold as they study me.
“Why?” he asks while his fingers once more clench into a fist.
“I-I told her…I denied the baby was mine.”
But there’s zero question about that anymore. I never should have doubted her.
Sawyer stands abruptly, and I open myself up for the expected punch, the one I deserve. It doesn’t stop me from closing my eyes, but I want him to kick the shit out of me. When nothing happens, I open one eye and see him striding toward the door, a twenty-dollar bill sitting on the bar next to my car keys.
“Sawyer. Shit.” I toss another twenty, well above the cost of three beers, and chase after him as he walks across the parking lot. “Sawyer!”
He turns, and I freeze at the pure hatred on his face.
“What?” he growls.
“Why didn’t you hit me? You said—”
“You want me to hit you. To make you think you paid a price for what the fuck you said to my sister. To make you feel better. But I’m not going to do that.” He closes the distance, stepping toe to toe with me. He may be shorter, but I have no doubt about his ability to kick my ass without breaking a sweat. “You don’t deserve to feel better.”
He starts to walk away again, but stops, turning back one more time.
“We’re done. Through. You hear me?”
Twenty years. We’ve been friends for over twenty years, but I swallow and nod. I ruined our friendship, not him.
“Grab your shit and get the fuck out of my parents’ house. As far as I’m concerned, as far as my family is concerned, you’re dead.”
