Obsessed(78)

He looked away. “Even if I was around, I doubt I’d have been much help, El.”

I frowned. “You don’t get it, do you, Aston? You think I hold resentment toward you for no reason. You abandoned me when I needed you. I looked after Mom all by myself. How would I have helped any better than you?”

“You’re her real kid. I thought that made a difference.”

“That’s a cop-out answer and you know it. She took you in, and loves you like a son, and you love her like a mother. You shouldn’t have left like that.”

His hand dropped from my shoulders. “I would have been gone two days later anyway, Elise.”

I sat up and looked down at him, my bare breasts distracting him for a moment. I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Look at me, Aston.”

He smirked. “But you have stunning tits, El.”

“Don’t try and distract me.”

“I’m telling you the truth. They’re gorgeous.”

“Aston,” my voice came out as a warning.

“What?”

“I want to know why you left like that.”

That smirk instantly fell. “Then you’re not going to like what I say.”

“Tell me.”

He gritted his teeth. “I’m responsible for killing him. That’s why I ran.”

Was he for real? “No, you aren’t. I already know how it happened. It was all over the news. Adrian told me everything. Dad was stopping a couple out front –”

“No,” he cut in sharply. “That’s not what happened. I’m the one that intervened, not Dad.”

I made a face. “What are you talking about?”

“He told me to stay put because he was off-duty and didn’t have his protective gear on. He called for back-up because the man had a gun in his hand and he was screaming at his wife, threatening to shoot her and their son if she didn’t get out of his way. He was trying to get to the boy. It all went down because the boy had stolen a packet of ketchup from the restaurant and had opened it in the backseat and spilled it.”

I just stared at him, dumbfounded, waiting for more.

“It was fucked up,” he continued. “I felt a trigger go off inside me. The fuck reminded me of my real father just before he attacked my mother and us with a knife. It was this… red-hot rage unravelling itself inside of me. I never felt so determined to stop anything in my life. I couldn’t…I couldn’t let him hurt them. I really thought he was going to. It was a stupid move. I jumped him from behind and the gun went off. And then there was Dad, pulling me off the man and shoving me to the side, protecting me. He…He had no choice but to try and disarm the man and…and the man was so pissed, so out of control, he was pushing at him to get to me. They fought. Dad tried to dislodge the gun from the man’s hands and in the fucking mess the man pulled the trigger. Just like that, Dad was shot in the chest.”

Aston slid to the end of the bed and sat up, burying his head in his hands. I stared at him, stunned into speechlessness. These were my father’s last conscious moments. I almost couldn’t breathe.

“He was dying in front of me,” he whispered, anguished. “I knew there was no saving him. His eyes were glazed and distant. I kept telling him to hang on, and then when I knew he was drifting, I apologized to him because…we’d had a fight in the restaurant. Over you. He…he wanted me to leave you. He said you were too young and I was too mature, that I had to give you a chance to know what you wanted for sure or else the pain of a breakup might destroy the family. And we were all so close, you know? It would have killed them if we had a nasty end and couldn’t be in the same room.

“He said I was too involved in my own head to give you the time you needed, and he was right. I’m really busy, El. You’d drift away from me eventually, and I can’t handle actually losing you that way. But at the same time, I know you have to live your own life. If I’d just agreed at that table, we wouldn’t have left on such bad terms. If I’d have been in control of my anger, I wouldn’t have approached that man. I’d have waited for the cops to come and sort him out. I fucked up so badly and it cost me…everything.”

Silence followed. I took a few deep breaths, trying to regain my composure after that revelation. It was hard to hear, hard to imagine my father dying like that, but also hard to listen to the pain in Aston’s voice. I choked up, and then I had to spend a few minutes swallowing the massive lump in my throat because, fucking hell, I couldn’t stand Aston hurting.

“You tried to do the right thing,” I managed out. “I don’t blame you, Aston.”