Page 155 of Kiss To Salvage


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“So freaking generous of you. I mean it, Jade, you know how things get…”

“I know, Nix. I freaking know. It’s my life! But I can’t be here, and you have to stay here. We’ll figure it out, find a schedule, just… Stay.”

Nixon lets out a shaky breath, running his hand over his face. The bags under his eyes are deep, and some days, it feels like he has aged ten years in the last few months. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”

Nixon starts to pull my suitcase toward the door, but I grab his hand and stop him.

“Nixon.”

He looks over his shoulder, and he must see something on my face because he’s already shaking his head. “Don’t ask that of me.”

“You’re angry, and you have every right to be…”

“Damn right, I do! All Prescott’s done this year is lie to me. Makes me wonder if anything he ever said was the truth.”

“He’s your friend.”

“Friends don’t lie to friends, Smalls.”

“Neither does family, and yet I lied to you. I need you to do this for me. I need you to take care of him.”

“Jade…” Nixon lets out a frustrated groan, but I can see him wavering.

“I love him, Nixon. I’m inlovewith him, and the thought of losing him…” I press my lips together to stop them from trembling. “I can’t be here, but I can’t leave him to fight his demons on his own, either. Help him.”

My brother is quiet for what seems like forever. For a moment, I think he’ll refuse me. I’m sure of it, really. We’ve both hurt Nixon so much in this past year.

“Fine. I’ll do it. For you. I’ll do anything for you, Smalls.”

“Just…”

Nixon points his finger at me. “I will not promisenotto punch him. That’s where I draw the line. Take it or leave it.”

“Fine.”

I could take him broken and bruised, but I needed him to be alive.

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

PRESCOTT

A loudbangstartles me out of sleep. At first, I thought it was all in my head, a part of my dreams, my nightmares. Or maybe it’s just the consequence of drinking after Jade left. Hell if I know. But then the curtains are pulled apart, and the bright light blinds me.

“What the—”

“Get your ass off the couch,” Nixon growls.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You either get your ass up, or I’ll make you get it up. The choice is yours.”

“You can sure as hell try.” I start to turn around, but fingers dig into my shoulders, and I’m tugged back. The force of the pull has me falling over the edge of the couch and on the floor, pain shooting through my leg.

“Fuck,” I hiss, my hands going to my leg instantly.

“I warned you.”

“Are you trying to fuck up my leg?”

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