Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

He’d been a total asshole. And why? Because he’d tasted rejection, blaming everyone but himself.

Brock, who sat beside him, signaled for another round. “Go ahead. Drink up. Learn what your life will be like if you continue on this path.”

Jude, who sat on his other side, watching with unreadable eyes, finally piped up. “Who called?”

“Holly. She’s going to bury me.” He told his friends about Thea’s trip.

“That...can’t be right,” Jude replied, and scratched his chest. “She wouldn’t leave you.”

“Well, she is, and I deserve it. My dad was right. My head has been up my ass.”

Brock patted his shoulder. “It’s still there, buddy, or you’d already be at the inn.”

Frowning, Jude stood. “If you’ll excuse me...” He walked away. Women smiled coquettishly at him, and men stepped away from him. He ignored them both and pressed his phone to his ear, making a call.

Daniel drained his next whiskey. “Thea liked me. Might have even loved me.”

“So she doesn’t have very good taste. So what?”

Daniel glared at him. “She has perfect everything.”

His friend held up his hands, palms out, all innocence.

The bar was crowded tonight, filled to the brim with out-of-towners. In the morning, they’d visit the festival, which would be raging the entire weekend. They would have fun, and they wouldn’t know or care that he had lost the love of his life.

“Well, I declare. Daniel Porter.” Nails traced up his back. “Is that really you?”

He turned to frown at a pretty blonde and flipped through his mental files. She looked familiar, yes, but still he couldn’t place her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t...”

Laughing, she waved a hand through the air. “I’m Madison. Madison Clark.”

The cheerleader from high school? The one Thea had seen him making out with inside the band room? “Madison Clark. Of course.” Her skin was sun-kissed, but she was thin, too thin. Like the women he used to date. Skin and bones without the softness he’d come to crave.

“I’m in town for the festival.” Her hand fluttered to her shoulder, the hand that would have borne a ring if she’d been married. “I come every year, but this is the first time I’ve seen you. And to think, I was actually going to skip this one. I didn’t want to risk any more bad weather, but now I’m so glad I continued the tradition.”

Had she been kind to Thea or had she been one of her tormentors?

Tormentors, he thought, remembering the day Harlow had threatened Thea with whipped cream. Madison had laughed as Thea had blushed.

He stared at her, never uttering a word.

“Come over here and meet me,” Brock said to her. “He’s a mean drunk, but I’m a very, very nice one. I’m also eternally single, so you’ll never have to worry about one of my exes. A word of warning, though. I have no respect for women or men or anyone, not even myself. But damn if we won’t have fun together.”

She looked between them before arching a brow in Brock’s direction. “You’re one of those bad boys my momma warned me about, aren’t you?”

“Oh, honey. I’m the baddest.”

“Well, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“How about a dance, then?” Before leading her off, Brock leaned over to whisper to Daniel, “You owe me.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like Brock was really suffering. Daniel drained another glass of whiskey.

Jude returned as a wave of dizziness rolled through him.

“I’m spinning,” Daniel told him.

“You’re also going to spend the rest of your life without Dorothea. Tomorrow she’s going on vacation with her friends, and she’s going to find herself a new man. A palate cleanser, I guess you could say. And when she returns, she’s going to start over with a clean slate. You’ll be nothing but a distant memory.”

“I’m no one’s memory,” he snapped, hating the thought of Thea with anyone else.

“You’re no one’s prize, either,” Jude said.

Bastard. “I’m strong. A natural-born protector.”

“So are others.”

He scowled at his friend. No, his former friend. “I’m handsome.” Thea had said so. Had said he was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

“Physical beauty fades.”

“I’m...” What? Honorable? Kind? Loyal? Brave? Not even close. And those were the things that mattered. They were the things he wanted in his woman. The things Thea already was.

Damn it. He needed to get out of here. He jumped to his feet, the chair falling behind him. Despite the music playing in the background, he heard a loud thud. The people around him leaped out of the way.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” a familiar voice growled. The ex-husband. “First you break Dorothea’s heart, then you hit me with a chair.”

“What are you doing here?” Daniel demanded.

“Holly called me. Said—”

“Move along.” Jude stepped in front of the guy, his body vibrating with oncoming rage. If he gave in to that rage...bad things would happen.

Weatherman must not have sensed the danger. He stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere. I came here to tell you how badly you’ve messed up.”

Daniel remained in place, his hands fisting. “How badly I messed up?”

Weatherman added, “You’re just like me, you know.”

“I never cheated on her, and I never will. I would rather die.”

“What you did was worse. You had her heart, something I never did, and you stomped on it.”

With a roar, Daniel leaped over the table. His fist connected with Weatherman’s nose, and blood spurted. But Weatherman didn’t yelp or run away. He threw a punch of his own, and Daniel’s brain banged into his skull, a loud ring erupting in his ears.

As the ring quieted, he heard Jude say “—next one will cost you.”

“No,” Daniel said. Both he and Weatherman deserved a beating for the way they’d treated Thea. “I’ve got this.”

“You don’t have anything but a bleak future,” Weatherman snapped. “Trust me. I know.”

“Shut up if you want to live through this,” Brock snapped. He must have abandoned Madison and raced over.

“Too late. He’s got to die.” Once again, Daniel threw himself at Jazz. They punched and kicked at each other, falling over tables and chairs. Glass shattered. They rolled across the floor, and sharp pains cut across his back.

Cheers reverberated. He continued to punch and kick, but he was having trouble seeing. His coordination was off, he realized, punching nothing but air. He had warm fluid in his eyes—blood?—and wiped his face with a throbbing hand.

Weatherman was...being held down by Jude.

“Let him go.” Daniel stomped over, or tried to. Brock wrapped strong arms around him and forced him to the floor.

He reclined there, the rage burning out of him until he was nothing but a panting, bleeding husk with a racing mind.

Thea was the best thing to ever happen to him, and she was right. He hadn’t fought for her.