Page 25 of Wasted

I didn't know you were so heartless.

I'm. Marrying. Your. Brother.

The four words that destroyed him. I'd looked him in the eyes when I said it, and he was right—that was heartless, but at the time, I didn't feel like I had any other options.

Wyatt leaned in close, shouting to be heard over the music. "You should head back to the hotel. Have Davison take you back and then come back and wait for us."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded as an overwhelming numbness spread through me. "Taylor," my gaze lifted to meet his, "he's angry. Don't let him get to you."

Forcing a smile, I nodded again, but that was easier said than done. "I'm fine," I reassured him.

Wyatt gave me a gentle push. "Go, get packed. We have an early flight."

Part of me didn't want to leave. I didn't want to let him get under my skin, but he did, and since tonight was my last night on duty, I didn't have to endure any more torment from him. Even though I hadn't gotten Cole to read his brother's letter or been able to tell him the truth, I felt like I'd accomplished what I'd come to do. Cole was out of the bar and slowly restoring his reputation, and soon, he would be heading home to repair his relationship with Kylie and his daughter.

Taking one last glance at the stage and Cole, I clocked out mentally for the last time. "Goodbye, Cole."

Chapter Fourteen

Cole

It was over.

The final show was done, and tomorrow, I would fly back to Bridgewater for the first time in two years with Taylor. And when I left, I hoped I never had to go back again.

I was ready to get back to some sense of normalcy that didn't include Taylor.

"Where's Taylor?" I asked Wyatt, my voice tinged with exhaustion as we stepped into the hotel elevator, finally escaping the paparazzi's prying lenses. I hadn't seen Taylor since before my last song. "Did you finally send her home?"

"You know," Wyatt said, his voice low and disapproving, "I really hoped you two would work your shit out."

I frowned. "Our shit?" I huffed out a bitter laugh. "She fucked my brother behind my back and then married him. There's nothing to work out. I want to take her back to Bridgewater, get my family back, and leave her there."

"Your family?" His eyebrows shot up. "You're not talking to Taylor right now."

"As in Kylie and River," I clarified, my tone clipped and defensive.

Wyatt let out a humorless laugh, his eyes hardening. "We both know that's bullshit, but you know what?" He frowned. "I said I would stay out of it, but what you're doing now is going to end up hurting Kylie. She's not a pawn in this game you're playing with Taylor. A game you're playing alone because Taylor isn't playing it with you."

"Stay out of what?" I demanded, confusion creeping into my voice. "And what game? I'm not?—"

"You are," Wyatt interrupted. "You want to make her suffer the way she made you suffer. You're not fooling anyone, Cole." Shoving his hand through his hair, he blew out a heavy sigh as his eyes softened. "None of it was real, man." My face twisted with confusion. "Their marriage was a business deal."

My breath lodged in my throat as I repeated his words in my head, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around what he was saying. "What are you talking about?" The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open.

"Taylor's in her room," he said, stepping off the elevator. I followed. "You should learn to listen more and talk less. She's been trying to tell you the truth. You just won't shut up."

"The truth?" A mixture of anger and confusion surged through me. What truth? And why did he know it? "You know the truth?" I cocked my head. "Kylie knows? Why..."

"You needed to be angry," he cut me off. "You needed to hate her. You wouldn't have listened to any of us." He nodded down the hall towards Taylor's room. "So maybe you'll listen to her."

My mind raced as I watched him disappear down the hall and into his room. "The letter," I muttered. Spinning on my heels, I bolted to my room. I scanned my card and shoved open the door. Stopping as I let the door slam close behind me, my eyes darted around the room, spotting my suitcase on the floor, opened withclothes spilling out. I couldn't remember exactly where I'd put the letter, but it had to be here. My gaze froze on a crumpled-up envelope underneath a black shirt.

Sinking onto the floor, I reached for it before ripping it open and unfolding the white sheet of paper. My back relaxed against the wall as I read.

Cole,

If you're reading this, it means I'm already gone, and I probably didn't get to tell you goodbye.

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