TWENTY-EIGHT

“YOU mind telling me what the hell this is about?” Dash bellowed.

Jensen looked up tiredly as Dash waved a piece of paper in front of his nose. Jensen was in no mood for guessing games. He hadn’t slept since Friday night. He had a hangover from hell, after doing something he never did. He’d gotten rip-roaring drunk, and he’d stayed that way the entire weekend.

Just more evidence that he was more like his father than he thought. Apparently the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.

“Christ, you look like shit,” Dash said in disgust.

“Fuck off,” Jensen growled.

“She quit,” Dash bit out as he put his hands on Jensen’s desk and leaned forward.

He shoved the letter of resignation where Jensen couldn’t help but see it.

Despair blanketed Jensen, suffocating him. Blackness swirled, drowning him in sorrow.

“Don’t let her,” Jensen said bleakly. “I’ll go. I’d never do anything to make her go. I can work out of another office and leave the two of you here.”

“Joss went by her house today, worried sick when I told her Kylie had resigned. Kylie wasn’t home. No one knows where the fuck she is. And she’s put her goddamn house up for sale,” Dash roared. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

Jensen closed his eyes. Tears burned his eyelids like acid.

“I hurt her,” he whispered. “I swore I never would.”

Dash sent him a puzzled look. “Hurt as in how?”

Jensen shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you not let her do this. Tell her I’m cleared out. Do whatever you have to. I’ll clean out my desk today. She can have my office or remain in hers.”

“Jesus Christ, am I even going to have a business after all this?” Dash demanded.

“I don’t give a fuck about the goddamn business,” Jensen growled. “All I care about is Kylie.”

Dash shook his head. “For someone who says he hurt her, I’d say you still care an awful lot about what she does.”

“Of course I care,” Jensen raged. “I love her. I’ll never goddamn love anyone else.”

“Then why the fuck are you here and not over there at her feet begging for forgiveness?” Dash roared back.

Jensen surged to his feet, planting his palms down on the desk. He leaned forward so he was eye to eye with Dash.

“Because some things are unforgivable,” Jensen choked out. “Some things can’t be taken back, can’t be redone. No matter if she forgives me—she likely would. I can’t forgive myself. Do you understand that?”

Dash sighed. “Yeah, man. I get that. But Jensen? Here’s a clue for you. You said you hurt her. What the hell do you think you’re doing now?”

Jensen sank back into his chair and ran a hand through his hair. God, he was so tired. He wanted one night where he wasn’t swallowed by the demons of his past. When he wasn’t seeing his hands around Kylie’s throat or hearing her calling his name.

He just wanted . . . peace. Was it too much to ask for?

But then how could he ever truly be at peace when the woman he loved was gone from his arms?

“Don’t let her quit, Dash,” Jensen said, his weariness evident in his every word. “Whatever you have to do in order to convince her. Do it. I’ll be out by the end of the day.”

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