“Ahh.” I look down the hall in the direction of my room, but I can’t see anything from where I’m standing because it’s around the corner. “Thanks?” I answer, not sure what to say or do.
“No problem. I hope everything's okay. Good luck.” He waves me off and steps into the elevator behind me.
Standing there for a few more seconds, I wonder who could be at my door. I’m not expecting anyone, I don’t think? And Preston has a key.
Maybe they got rooms mixed up or something.
But when I turn the corner, I come to a halt, surprised to see Preston sitting on the floor against my door, head back, eyes closed. His knees are up to his chest, arms draped over them.
My heart starts to race. Swallowing down the nerves, I head towards my door.
We didn’t leave things on the best of terms tonight. He was pissed that I knew something major regarding Sadie and he didn’t.
I felt bad and was sorry that I kept it from him, but also, it wasn’t my place to tell him. Yes, we were friends back when it happened, but I was under the impression he didn’t like Sadie. The last thing I wanted to do was betray Sadie’s privacy to someone who made it known to her more than once that he wasn’t her biggest fan.
Now I know I had it all wrong because Preston cared more about Sadie than probably any of us for all these years.
“Preston?” his name comes out shaky. “Why are you sitting outside?”
Preston lowers his head at the sound of my voice, eyes slowly opening. That’s when I see they’re bloodshot and swollen, like he’s been crying.
“I didn’t know where else to go.” his voice cracks.
It’s not something I’m used to seeing; he always seems so hard and put together. But I know better than that.
My steps quicken, and I drop to my knees when I reach him. “What happened?” I ask, worry thick in my voice as I cup his cheek.
He gives me a soft smile, but I can tell it takes a lot out of him to do even that small movement.
“I’m done.” He laughs, the sound more broken than humorous.
For a second, I think he means with me, and my stomach twists.
“I’m done with him, Declan.”
“Who?” I whisper.
“The devil.” Preston sighs heavily, eyes closing as he leans into my hand.
The devil?
Oh. His father.
“Did he hurt you?” I rush out, checking his face over for bruises or cuts.
“No.” He opens his eyes. “But he wanted to.” He laughs again, and this time it’s hollow. “He wanted to do so much more.”
My eyes flick between his, seeing just how broken my poor man is.
“Come.” I stand and hold out my hand. “Let’s go inside.”
He looks at my hand for a moment, and I think he’s about to ignore it, but he takes it, his larger one engulfing mine.
Pulling him to his feet, I take my key card out and let us both in. “Sit.” I nod towards my bed before heading over to the little kitchenette area.
I hear him moving behind me, the sound of him kicking off his shoes before taking a seat on my bed.
Once I get the kettle on, I turn back to face him.