Breaking Even (Sterling Shore 5)

“You don’t remember anything?” he asks as I follow him out, ignoring all the damage in my room.

“Nothing after the boxes I shouldn’t have ever opened,” I say while blinking and trying to stop seeing things in a fog.

“Figures. Your Porsche is going to need more work. You beat the hell out of it last night.”

Ah, hell. My poor car.

“And my hand?”

“You cut it on the window after you broke it. Wren’s child’s mom came by to fix your hand. Yeah. That shocked the hell out of me. No one thought to tell me he had a kid?”

He turns to glare at me, and I shrug.

“Not my secret to tell.” He rolls his eyes while leading the way to the kitchen, and I drop to a stool as he starts making coffee.

“Why’d I punch you?” I ask, still trying to put all the blurry images together.

“Because I stopped you from chasing Brin out of the house.”

He turns to face me as all the color drains from my face. “Why the hell was Brin over here? And why was I chasing her?”

He breaks down all the details, and I get sicker with everything he says. She kissed me to keep me still. She came because I was hurt. And she left here in tears because I’m the world’s biggest asshole.

I made her cry. Her ex-husband never made her cry, but I did.

“You shouldn’t have involved her,” I snap.

“We didn’t. She came because she cared. She kissed you because you refused to be still any other way, and she stayed on top of you because you wouldn’t let her go. Pretty sure any other girl would have prayed you bled to death.”

She should have let me bleed and stayed away.

“I need to go apologize to her.”

&nbsp

; He props up as I try to stand straight, but things are still a little warped, and it feels like I’m suffering the after effects of a bad carnival ride.

“For what? For breaking her heart or for being a drunken ass?”

I don’t even want to think about the shit I said to her the other day. It was too harsh, too stupid, and too damn cruel. She didn’t deserve anything that came out of my mouth.

“The list is too long to detail. I’ll be back,” I mumble, stumbling toward the door.

“Tell her I said thanks. We couldn’t have handled you without her help last night.”

That just turns the knife in my heart a little more. I can’t believe she came over here after what I did.

Not bothering to put on a shirt or even shower, I head across the street. I’m barefoot and still wearing my blood-splattered jeans from last night, but she’s waited long enough for an apology. Before I even reach the door, Maggie is swinging it open, and she looks pissed—nuclear warning pissed.

“What?” she barks.

She’s definitely not on my side anymore. I don’t blame her. I’m not on my side either.

“I just want to apologize for... well, everything. Can I please come in and talk to her?”

She blocks the doorway with her small body when I try to come in, so I take a step back.

“She’s not here. She had to go to work.”