Penn stiffens, his mouth opening—ready to fight—but Dylan keeps pressing, the knife twisting deeper. “Let me guess, Jaylynn’s been pushing you, hasn’t she? Telling you to be more, do more? She deserves better than a thug for a husband. Even you know that.”
Penn falters, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. His gaze flicks to mine, and I know—God, I know—Dylan has used my words against him. Words I never meant to hurt Penn with.
“Penn.” My voice cracks. My heart is pounding so loud I can hardly hear. We can’t do this here, in front of everyone. Our private lives spilled out under the glow of Christmas lights. “Penn, don’t?—”
I reach for him, my hand trembling, but he doesn’t move.
Dylan tilts his head, the predator who smells blood. “You think she can live up to her potential with you?” He sweeps his hand toward the float, the stage, the staring crowd. “Look around, Penn. This is the best you can give her? This is her life with you?”
Penn’s voice is tight, each word ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re the one who’s messing this up for her.”
“No.” Dylan leans closer, his voice dropping to a vicious hiss. “You’re the one who’s going to mess it all up, and prove to her exactly who you are.”
Penn’s brows knit. “What are you talking about?”
Dylan pivots to me. “Let’s not kid ourselves, Jay. Without me, you’re nothing. I saved this parade. I’m the one who can give you the career you dream of. With Penn?” He sweeps his hand toward the children at the edges of the crowd. “This is all you’ll ever have.” He looks back at Penn, his eyes glittering with malice. “That kiss we shared under the mistletoe was just the beginning.”
Fire burns in Penn’s eyes. “Penn, it’s not what you think. I didn’t?—”
“I know,” he responds through clenched teeth, his gaze never leaving Dylan’s. “Don’t you go near her again.”
Ignoring him, Dylan adds, “Oh, and you were right about her tires. I did that. I needed alone time with her after our kiss. She just doesn’t see it yet, but she will. She’ll see we’re meant to be together.”
The words land like a bomb.
Penn’s entire body goes rigid. His fists curl tight, his breath tearing through his chest. When he finally speaks, his voice is a growl that makes the hair rise on the back of my neck. “You put her in danger.”
He stalks forward, each step deliberate, deadly. My heart leaps into my throat. This is going bad, fast.
“Penn, wait.” I lunge for him, reaching for his arm.
But I’m too late.
His fist arcs through the air, a loud crack. Dylan stumbles back, crashing into a display of light-up peppermint sticks, strings of red-and-white bulbs tangling around him as he crumples. Gasps ripple through the crowd, children cry, and a stunned silence swallows the square.
“Penn!” My scream rips from my throat.
He spins toward me, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. And then—just for a heartbeat—I see every emotion flicker across his face. Fury, shock, regret, sorrow… and then the one that guts me most.
Shame.
His shoulders sag, his fists unclench, and he looks at me like he’s already lost. “I’m so sorry, Jaylynn,” he whispers, voice raw. “I ruined this for you. The one thing I swore I’d never do.” He swallows and looks at the tree. “Christmas, the tree lighting…I wanted to give you new memories. To wipe away the painful ones.”
His gaze sweeps the square—the crying children, the horrified faces, the chaos he’s unleashed. His chest rises and falls in quick, ragged bursts.
And then he turns.
Before I can reach him, before I can call him back, he’s gone.
Gone from the stage. Gone from the crowd.
Gone from me.
Dylan pushes to his feet, rubbing his jaw with a grimace, the tangled lights glowing around his legs. He smirks. “What did I tell you, Jay? He just proved exactly who he is.”
24
Penn