“You couldn’t give up the power?”
“No, I couldn’t, and I won’t.” He slides his eyes to me. “But I do want to protect you both as much as I can. It’s why I have people following you at all times.”
“Who…?”
“You don’t need to know, and you wouldn’t notice them. They’re professionals whose job is to keep you and your mother safe.”
So that’s how he knows about me and Preston.
“I couldn’t care less about your protection,” I say emotionlessly. “Get me those names and locations.”
He’s about to say something else, but I’m not listening as I walk away without looking back.
There was a time when I craved his attention, but now, I couldn’t care less about what he has to say. Mom is the only one who’s ever mattered, not him.
The rain soaks me in seconds, the water forming rivulets down my face and slipping into my mouth.
I halt near my bike at the view of a short, lean man carrying an umbrella and a leather-bound envelope. Upon seeing me, he rushes forward.
“Hello, Mr. Osborn. My name is Hayes, and I work for the Armstrongs.”
I swallow thickly. So this is the Hayes that Preston wouldn’t shut up about.My minion Hayes this and my minion Hayes that. Where does Hayes get those cookies? Pretty sure Hayes added it to my calendar. Need to ask Hayes about how to do this. He’s resourceful like that.
Turns out that Hayes is a slim man with large eyes and short brown hair that stops at the collar of his crisp suit.
He passes me the envelope, a sheen of sadness covering his features. “Mr. Preston Armstrong asked me to give you this the morning of the day he got shot. I should’ve brought it to you sooner, but I couldn’t find time. I hope you forgive me.”
My hand instantly leaves wet fingerprints on the envelope.
Hayes starts to turn around, then stops, a small, sad smile curving his lips. “For what it’s worth, he was the happiest I’ve seen him in years since he started talking about you.”
He nods and heads to the sleek black car that’s waiting for him.
My fingers tighten around the envelope.
Preston sent me something?
What could he have sent when he’d already made his choice?
I bite my lower lip until I taste blood.
Yes, Preston got shot, but it wasn’t only because he wanted to protect Violet.
I saw his dead eyes the moment he decided to take that shot.
And he looked relieved.
And done.
Now, I can finally face the reality of what actually happened and the reason I’ll never forgive him.
Preston wasn’t killed. He committedsuicide.
34
PRESTON
To Marcus,
