“I don’t need any help,” Shawn said, shaking his head. “All I need is for Loren to love me back. That’s all.”
I couldn’t handle this. “I can’t just do that, Shawn,” I told him. “You have to understand that you can’t just ask someone to love you and expect it just to happen. Being in a relationship with me—which isn’t going to happen—isn’t going to suddenly solve all of your problems. You need to take responsibility for yourself.”
“And you need to go to class again,” Patrick added. “I’ve never known you to neglect your studies—or your art for that matter.”
“I’ve had it with both of you,” Shawn announced.
“What do you mean, had it?” Patrick demanded. “You can’t just walk away from this, Shawn. I want to discuss your plans with you so we can determine how to move forward.”
“I’m not planning on moving anywhere,” Shawn said, then almost casually, he removed a gun from the pocket of his sweatshirt. It was small—so small that neither of us had seen it—but I knew just how deadly it was. I recoiled away from it as if it were a tiny poisonous snake.
“And just what the fuck are you going to do with that?” Patrick asked, his calm voice taking on an edge for the first time this afternoon.
“I’ve got the solution to all of your problems,” Shawn said almost dreamily. What had he taken? How much of it was in his system right now? Did he even know what he was doing?
As if he were encased in gelatin, Shawn slowly brought the gun up to his own temple, his finger on the trigger. Then he looked at me with bottomless eyes.
“Don’t!” I shrieked at the same time that Patrick burst forward, yanking the arm that held the gun toward him.
A loud crack sounded, and both of them fell to the floor.
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Crushing On The Billionaire (Part 2) Page 7