Page 153 of Save Me

Another shred of my heart falls away. My hand wobbles, and my grip on the stick loosens. I almost drop it, but catch myself before that happens.

“What … what did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Kennedy,” he insists. “You are the reason you got that job. Nothing else.”

I tighten my hold around the object in my hand. “What. Did. You. Do?”

There’s a reason he had Preston Water’s card in his drawer.

He stares off, his jaw hardening as he clenches his teeth. “I spoke with him and showed him a few of your articles,” he admits through gritted teeth.

My head spins, and the stick falls away from my hand. I shake my head.

“Kennedy, baby,” he calls, his voice growing closer.

“Don’t call me that,” I say, my voice hoarse and barely audible. I feel his warmth as his long arms wrap around me.

“Baby—”

“Don’t call me that!” I yell and slap at him, pushing out of his hug. I want to do more. To thrash and fight him and punch him for the pain racing through my heart, but I’m too weak.

My energy is spent, and it takes everything inside of me to remain on my two feet.

I manage to back away from him. “All of this time—” I break off to swallow the emotion clogging my throat. “I suspected my father was behind me getting this job. I accused him and my brother … but it was you.”

“You earned your position,” he insists. “You’re a hell of a reporter. No one can take that away from you.”

“Shut up!” I don’t want to hear his words. This man who’s been a part of my life for over a decade without me knowing about it. I can’t think straight.

My heart and head start to throb.

All I know is that I can’t be here anymore. I can’t be in his presence.

“Give me my phones,” I say.

“Kennedy—”

“My phones!” I scream. “Now.”

His movements are reluctant. He knows that when he hands me the phones, that’s it. There’s nothing left between us.

Because there isn’t.

He pulls my phones out of his pockets, and it pisses me off all over again to see them in his hand.

I snatch them out of his hold, making sure not to touch him as I do.

I meet his gaze for the last time.

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” I say with a finality that slices through the air.

He moves as if he’s going to come forward again.

“Ever. Never in this lifetime do I want to lay eyes on you.”

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