This was for Isabel, he reminded himself with no small amount of irritation at himself for wallowing in useless self-reproach. And possibly, his unborn child. Who knew if Isabel had been carrying his child or his brothers? But just knowing the possibility existed made it imperative that his brothers pay for their sins.
Your hands are not clean, either. You’re far from innocent.
His brother’s voice cut at Dillon and he winced as a different memory bloomed in his mind.
“Fuck them. I’m not going to play their stupid games. No one is going to tell me how to live my life,” Dillon had shouted, still hot as hell at his father for trying to push him into a life he didn’t want. Isabel, her fair hair falling like silk across her shoulders, tucked the tresses behind her ear, distress marring her fair features but Dillon was too pissed to care how anyone else felt at the moment. All he knew was that his dick of a father was trying to force him to be something he wasn’t. “I don’t need their fucking money. I’ll live on the streets before I take another dime.”
“Dillon, you’re angry. Calm down before you make a decision that will affect the rest of your life. You’ve never been poor; you don’t know the first thing about being on your own. Maybe it’s not a bad thing your dad is asking — you need a career of some sort, right?”
Dillon looked at Isabel, freshly irritated that she wasn’t immediately taking his side. Where’s the fucking unconditional love? “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours,” she said quickly. “But…what will you do for money if you’re cast out of the family?”
He cast her a dark look. “I’m not totally helpless. I don’t need their money. I’d rather sleep in my car than accept another dime from my father.”
“Didn’t your father buy your car?” Isabel asked tentatively. When Dillon shot her a dark scowl, she continued in a rush. “Baby, listen to me. You’re being rash. You’ve grown up accustomed to living in the lap of luxury; you don’t know how to be on your own. Everything you own belongs to your family. Please don’t make a decision you can’t take back. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone.” She tried to reach out to Dillon but he cut her down with a cold stare. “Please Dillon…I’m on your side. I love you.”
“You have a funny way of showing it by telling me to suck up to my father for the scraps from his table. I never realized how useless you think I am,” he said caustically.
“I don’t think that at all! But you don’t know what you’re doing. The world isn’t going to fall at your feet just because you’re a Buchanan unless you have the Buchanan cash to persuade them and your dad is just giving you a chance to make your mark. Why is that so bad?”
“That just goes to show how much you don’t know about the Buchanans. My father isn’t interested in helping shape my future; he just wants to control me. If I give in to his demands, it will never end!”
Tears glistened in Isabel’s eyes and he knew she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. All she could see was the gravy train coming to a grinding halt if he got tossed on his ear. Suddenly, instead of seeing the woman he was in love with standing before him, all he saw was a gold-digger and his rage crested the wall of control. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. Isabel’s crestfallen expression pushed his anger sidewise and he lashed out at her, saying, “Go on, get the fuck out of here if you’re so inclined to agree with my family. Chase after the money, Isabel.”
“Dillon, wait!” She tried to stop him but he flung her hand from his arm with a snarl, too angry to care that he was being reckless and cruel to the one person he loved. He had to get away from the hypocrisy, the lies and most of all from his disillusionment that Isabel hadn’t cared about his money. She was just as petty and shallow as the rest. Fuck her. She cried, “Dillon!”
But he hadn’t stopped. No, in fact, he’d made the biggest mistake of his life — one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Dillon squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to push the memory farther from his consciousness but Isabel’s stricken expression haunted him. Had she known she was pregnant already when he’d kicked her to the curb along with everyone else in his life? Had she felt scared and alone with no one to turn to? He’d been a bastard but his brothers had taken it to the next level; they’d swooped in on a vulnerable girl during a desperate moment and taken full advantage.
He drained the scotch. Hating himself for a myriad of reasons — for being a cold, heartless bastard, for not knowing when to quit, for destroying every single good thing in his life — but mostly, God bless it, because his brain kept replaying Penny’s shattered expression at his betrayal. Why did he care so much? Why did it feel as if hot needles had just been shoved into his heart? Forget it…he didn’t want to know the answer.
#
The oppressive silence in the cab of the Towncar made Penny want to jump from the moving vehicle if only to escape the judgment in Vince and Nolan’s hurt and angry gaze.
“Why?” Vince was the first to break the silence with a terse demand. “Why did you do it?” Penny didn’t have time to answer. Vince’s anger had begun to boil over in a torrent of words that made her flinch and cause tears to spring to her eyes. How could she explain something she didn’t understand herself? She was mortified and humiliated by her own gullibility — and yet, there was a piece of her that desperately refused to believe that everything she and Dillon had shared had been a farce. “He’s a liar and a soulless dick,” Vince shouted, pushing his hand through his hair, agitated. Penny winced and wiped at her eyes, ashamed that she still wanted to talk to Dillon, to see for herself if he’d truly done this despicable thing to simply hurt his brothers. “We warned you. Why didn’t you fucking listen? What is it about Dillon that makes women lose their minds?”
Penny wisely remained silent and simply cried in the darkness. If either could tell she was crying, neither was inclined to comfort her, not that she expected them to. She’d screwed up. “I’m…” she didn’t know what to say. Her throat closed as she struggled to find the words that would convey how she’d felt — how he’d made her feel. God, for a blinding — and glorious — moment she’d thought she was falling madly, deeply and inexorably in love with the bad boy. Now, she just felt sick to her stomach for being so naïve as to think that she would be the one to tame the wildest Buchanan. Chubby Penny. The one who never got asked to school dances or admired for anything other than her brains. Sure. That made total sense. She wiped at her dripping nose and for lack of a tissue, had to wipe her hand on her pants. What a colossal mess she was in. Oh, Papa, I never should’ve taken the deal. What am I going to do with myself now?