Hardening her heart against him, protecting herself against the pain he could so carelessly inflict, Kit said, “You did this. Whatever the pain inside you, tonight you made the decision to drink and to do that to me.” But alcohol or not, he wasn’t drunk, had known full well what he was doing.
“I’m not leaving you with that creep out there.”
Kit gave him a humorless smile. “I’ll survive. I damn well did while you were busy fucking every groupie from here to God knows where.” Her words made him flinch, and a small, vengeful part of her felt good that she’d hurt him too.
And that made her hate him a little, that he’d turned her into this vindictive bitch. Not wanting to say anything else, words that would make her hate herself too, she walked into the house and grabbed her phone. She felt Noah come in, go into his room. He was outside with his duffel when the car drew up, Casey at the wheel. The bodyguard and driver was meant to be on a break, but she’d asked him to do this as a favor, not trusting any other driver not to use it as a payday.
Locking the door the instant Noah was out, she determinedly refused to cry. Instead, she called Fox. “I threw Noah out,” she told the lead singer. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” However much she hated him at this instant, she couldn’t forget the night that had begun this journey, how she’d found Noah in the motel room.
“I’ll take care of it,” Fox said in his distinctive grit-laced voice. “You okay?”
“No.” Everything hurt.
“You want Molly to come over? Sarah’ll be fine on her own—she’s steadied since we got back.”
“Thanks, but I think I need to be alone right now.” Get her head screwed on straight. “Look after him.” With that, she hung up and went back out into the garden.
Seeing the beer bottles Noah had left out there made her angry all over again. Picking them up, she took them inside to the sink, poured out the beer that remained in the third bottle, then ran the water so the smell wouldn’t linger and took the bottles out to the recycle bin. After which, she returned to the garden.
Except she couldn’t find peace here, not today. All she kept seeing was Noah. All she kept feeling was him, his lips pressed against hers and his eyes so bitterly cold. “No more, Kit,” she whispered. “You can’t help a man who doesn’t want to be helped.” She loved him, would probably always love him, but it was time she accepted that being with him would slowly destroy her.
She was done.
Noah ripped up the stupid little cherry blossom tree he’d planted in an effort to recreate Kit’s garden inside his home and slammed it against the opposing wall. He missed, hit the wall of glass. The dirt slid down in smudged streaks, but he didn’t stop to watch; he was already ripping up the other plants. He’d put down smooth stones like she had in certain places in her garden, and now he picked those up and threw them at the glass. It smashed.
The sound was right, was an echo of what was happening inside him.
He picked up another stone. Then another. And another.
By the time he ran out of stones, he’d broken every single pane of glass that had previously provided a view from the house into the garden. Shards glittered under the small lights that had come on automatically when he stepped outside. He’d put in those lights because he knew Kit often sat in her garden at night. He’d liked to imagine her here, a cup of green tea in hand as she relaxed after dinner.
“You done?”
Jerking around, he saw Fox leaning in the doorway that led into the garden from near the living area, his arms folded and his expression unreadable.
“How the fuck did you get in?”
“You gave me a key,” Fox reminded him. “I wouldn’t have come inside on my own except you weren’t answering the door.”
Chest heaving and hair falling over his eyes, Noah stared at his friend. “It’s eleven at night. You didn’t just decide to leave Molly and Sarah alone and drive over here.”
“Sarah’s asleep and Molly’s talking to her best friend on the phone.” Fox’s eyes watched him without blinking. “I’m going to make you some coffee.”
Noah didn’t go inside. He destroyed what little remained of the garden. When he was done, no one would’ve guessed that there’d once been a pathetic little garden here. No one could see his fucking heart, all stunted and hopeful and overgrown with weeds.
“Here.” Walking out, Fox thrust a mug of coffee into his hand.
Holding his own cup, the lead singer looked around. “Feel better?”