Page 79 of Property of Tacoma
I stand, picking up Panda again, and face Tacoma.
I wait a beat, praying he’ll take it all back and say he was wrong, but he doesn’t.
He just stands there, jaw clenched, eyes cold.
“Goodbye, Tacoma,” I whisper.
I make my way to my RV, each step feeling like I’m walking through quicksand.
Once inside, I set Panda down and lean against the door, finally allowing myself to break down.
Sobs tear through me, painful and raw, as the full weight of what just happened crashes down.
I’ve lost them.
All of them.
The man I was falling in love with, the children who had become so dear to me.
Gone.
I give myself a minute to cry.
To purge the emotions threatening to suffocate me.
Then I wipe my face and straighten my shoulders.
I have a job to do.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Staring at the glass of whiskey in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid catches the light.
The bottle of Jack sitting on my desk is half empty, and I’ve been nursing this same glass for the past hour.
I can’t bring myself to drink it.
I can’t bring myself to do much of anything right now except replay the moment I destroyed everything good in my life.
It’s been two fucking days since I watched Cali walk out of my house with tears streaming down her face, Panda clutched to her chest like a lifeline.
Two days since I stood there like a stone-cold bastard and let her go.
Two days since I broke my kids’ hearts along with my own.
“I fucked up,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face.
The words echo in my office, mocking me.
I close my eyes, but all I see is her face—those beautiful green eyes swimming with tears as I told her this wasn’t her home.
Which is complete fucking bullshit.
This is her damn home. Here, with me, with the kids, with my club. This is where she belongs.
Every word out of my mouth was complete and utter bullshit, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was like I was watching someone else speak through my lips, someone cruel and cold that I didn’t recognize.
Fear.
