Page 43 of Sweet Conviction

"I know," he whispers, hanging his head. "I know. I fucked up."

"You think?" I growl, anger flaring hot and bright. "I'm so mad at you I can't even think straight!"

"I know that too." He swallows hard, and for a minute, I see a flicker of the little boy who taught me how to ride a bike. The little boy who used to sneak ice cream into my room long after my parents went to bed just because he knew I couldn't resist it. The little boy who defended me every damn day of my life.

But he's not that little boy anymore. And he's not the man I thought I knew, either.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?"

Can I? Should I? Tears well in my eyes as I stare at him, my heart and head warring with each other. "I don't know," I finally whisper. "Maybe one day, but that day isn't today, Triton."

He jerks his chin in a nod, his gaze flickering over my shoulder toward the doors again. "Figured you'd say that. For what it'sworth, I'm not sure I'd forgive me for what I did or what I'm about to do either."

I frown. "What you're about to—?"

I break off as he pulls his hand from his pocket, and I see the unmistakable flash of steel gripped in his palm.

He has a gun.

No. God no.

My blood freezes in my veins, my breath catching in my throat. "Triton, please," I plead, my voice trembling with fear.

But he doesn't point the gun at me. He aims it to the right…toward the doors of the building.

I turn my head in that direction, not understanding, and my soul nearly leaves my body.

Dalton is standing right there. Right freaking there, two security guards flanking him.

And Triton's aiming the gun directly at his chest.

"No, Triton," I beg quietly, my heart hammering against my ribs. "No, please."

His gaze flickers toward me.

"Eyes on me, Triton," Dalton says, his deep voice calm as he tries to draw Triton's attention back to him. "I'm the one you want to shoot. Not her."

A sob breaks free from my throat, my heart threatening to tear itself to pieces. "Please, no," I whimper to my cousin. "You can't do this."

"It's his fault, baby cousin," Triton says, the gun trembling in his grasp. "If it weren't for him…" He takes a shuddering breath, his finger hovering over the trigger.

Desperation claws at my insides. "You can have the company," I sob, my vision blurring with tears. "You can have whatever you want; just don't take him."

"It's too late for that," Triton replies bitterly. "Your father won't ever leave it to me now. He fucking made sure of that."

The gun shakes in his hand as he glances at me again, the barrel shifting in my direction.

"Eyes on me, Triton," Dalton growls again, taking a step toward my cousin.

Triton immediately snaps his arm out straight, centering his aim on Dalton once more. "Don't fucking come at me," he snarls. "Don't move."

"Then you keep that gun pointed at me, and you let her go," Dalton murmurs, his gaze never wavering from Triton's face. "Your problem is with me."

Oh God.He's going to sacrifice himself to save me.

No, I can't let that happen. I can't let any of this happen. Dalton isn't dying, and Triton isn't a killer.

I step toward Dalton, my legs shaking beneath me.

---