Page 137 of Perfect Pitch

Paige’s head whips up. “No. Wait. We don’t have time. Jesse’s going to be here soon.”

We all turn as we hear one, two doors slam. Beckett shrugs. “Too late. Kane will verify it’s him and bring him to the door.”

Paige’s legs drop down. “I know we have to talk, But Jesse and I have to get to the hospital first.”

“What?” Austyn and Beckett shout together.

Paige walks straight to Austyn as the front door opens to the man I presume is Jesse Kensington. His face first displays shock, then a resigned acceptance to all of us. Jesse’s pained expression doesn’t ease when he spies Austyn. If anything, it becomes worse. Beckett finally asks, “What is going on?”

I’m grateful he’s demanding answers because judging from how Dr. Paige Kensington’s clutching my woman, I will need to be here to pick up the pieces.

Jesse confirms my suspicions. “My father. He had a heart attack the day after Paige lit into him. He’s in critical care. We’ve been taking shifts going to the hospital.”

Immediately after he says the words, Austyn lets out a sob. Instead of me, her father strides forward to wrap her and her mother in his arms. Beckett murmurs platitudes to both women, but over his arm, it’s me she seeks solace from.

Not Beckett, me.

Even as her father inadvertently cuts me out to provide his newly found daughter with a haven from her pain, I know where Austyn wants to grieve for the tragedy unraveling around us.

And she will be when the time’s right, I vow to her silently.

As if she hears me, her eyes brighten with a sheen of tears.

* * *

CHAPTER SIXTY

Be festive, my ass. I just got dumped right before Christmas. This is such bullshit

#airingofgrievences

—@PRyanPOfficial

Have you READ your blog in the last few weeks? God, Ryan.

—@CuteandRich3

I sit on our lanai and clutch my drawn-up legs to my chest as I try to regulate my breathing the way my choir teacher taught me years ago. Inhale through the nose for four seconds, hold my breath for eight. Then exhale in a controlled manner before holding my exhaled breath for another eight.

I’ve tried drinking water. Lifted my chin up. Avoided blinking.

Nothing seems to stop my tears from falling.

The one thing I need to do, the one thing that isn’t helping, is opening my eyes wide.

Burying my head against my knees, I scrub my face against them. Sniffling, I ask the night, “Why should I feel anything? The man considered me an abomination.”

Mitch’s voice comes out of the darkness. “If you really believe that, your heart would have written him off, Beats.”

My head twists as he makes his way over to where I’m curled up in the lounger. My mother’s gone to her room, my—Beckett’s gone to the guest room.

Now, it’s just us. And Mitch is still on duty, protecting me from my own despair. I ask, “Doesn’t it ever get tiring?”

He rounds the end of the lounger and sits. “What?”

“Protecting people from themselves?”

He picks up my hand. He stares at it a long while before finally admitting, “Sometimes.”

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