Page 13 of Treachery

Raising an eyebrow at her friend, Nadia snorted. “What about the third one?”

Vicki smirked wickedly. “He can watch.” She wiggled her eyebrows, making Nadia snicker.

God, it felt good to laugh, even if it was half-hearted. After she’d overheard Locust and he’d torn the heart from her chest at his words…she thought she’d never breathe again, that she’d never see the sun again, that her heart would never beat again. She was mostly right.

It hurt to breathe because she couldn’t shake the words she’d heard that morning; they kept repeating, over and over, slamming into her brain no matter what she was doing, no matter what she did to occupy herself. She’d be standing at the reception counter at work, inputting data for the daily report, and“once she gives me what I need, I’ll dump her”would fill her thoughts, stealing her breath, crushing her spirit. Draining her of all the strength she’d mustered to leave the house that morning. The man had used her, violating her body and her home—her safe space—out of duty to his club. Not once had anything he’d said or done been real.

Getting out of bed every morning…a bed she’d shared with Locust for months, was like pulling against hooks embedded in her skin, trying to drag her back onto the mattress that still smelled of him—motor oil, cedar smoke, and aged whiskey. But she couldn’t stay in bed all day, even if her body and mind wanted to give up, lay down and stay down, because she had a life to live, one she refused to let anyone take from her.

Even if her heart still stumbled every once in a while, especially when she thought she saw him in the distance, around the corner, in the crowd, in the next aisle at the grocery store, or standing outside of her house in the shadows just on the edge of the light from the streetlamp.

But she didn’t believe her eyes, because she knew her heart was aching for him, and her mind was conjuring up what the heart wanted just to survive the day. Her poor, confused heart. It had really believed that what she’d had with Locust was real,that it had finally found its mate, that it had the irrevocable, fabled connection she’d only read about in romantasy novels.

It had all been make believe, that’s for sure, unfortunately it had all been all too real to her, because her real life was affected.

Shake it off, get out from under this…don’t let him break you.

And she wouldn’t. She’d endured the pain of losing both her parents, her home, and the betrayal of friends—the ones who saw her fat check and came in blazing, their hands out for a handout. And she’d survive this betrayal, too.

Nadia forced a smile. “A girl’s night sounds great, though let’s do margs andSupernatural. I’m in the mood for Dean Winchester hotness.”

Vicki grinned, nodding. “Hell, yes. Jensen Ackles is my hall pass.”

Furrowing her brow, Nadia remarked, “But you’re single; you don’t need a hall pass.”

Vicki waved away Nadia’s words. “Single in reality, but you already know Henry Cavill owns my heart.”

For the first time in too long, Nadia threw back her head and laughed.

Her aching heart lightened a little; the knowledge that not all of her joy had been sucked from her body was a relief.

Smiling when the waiter brought out her chicken salad sandwich and side salad, Nadia thanked him and gazed down at her plate, thankful for the extended lunch she’d taken in the guise of a head of department meeting. As head of front desk and concierge, and with Vicki as head of housekeeping, they’d often taken longer lunches to discuss business. Today, however, their extended lunch had nothing to do with work and everything to do with Nadia’s need for her friend.

Her mouth watering, Nadia looked down at her plate—as if pricked with a thousand needles, something like awareness of danger brushed against her senses.

Someone was watching her.

Lifting her head, her gaze immediately landed on someone she never thought she’d see again, someone she’dhopedto never see again.

Liar.

There he was standing there on the sidewalk, barely bothering to hide the fact he was watching her like a fucking creeper. God, why couldn’t he be ugly? Why couldn’t his outsides match his insides—festering and hideous? Butnoooo, he had to be sexy as hell, standing there, thick arms crossed over his broad chest encased in a black t-shirt as tight as a second skin, showcasing every taut inch of his chest and torso. His long, muscular legs were spread, the material of his well-worn blue jeans barely holding together at the seams, because the man was big all over—she fought the urge to drop her gaze to his crotch, where she knew he was exceptionally big. Swallowing, she flicked her gaze to his face, his eyes dark and trained on her, his head covered by his usual black bandana, and that delicious dark scruff on his jaw….

Yes…he was a beautiful man, but he was wrong, all wrong for her. He’d hurt her all the way down to her atoms, rewriting her code, twisting her, reshaping her, until she was a wholly different woman, one who lost the ability to trust…to love. He’d mutated her, like a living, breathing toxic bath, drowning her in it.

And she’d never forgive him for that.

Struggling to contain the rage and sorrow and grief and hatred that hit her one after the other, Nadia forced her gaze back to her plate, her appetite gone.

Locust stumbled and nearly fell, barely catching himself in time before he collided with the Mercedes parked in front of where he’d been hiding for the last fifty minutes.

Watching.

Nadia had smiled, and two things happened simultaneously; his lungs seized up, and all the blood in his body abandoned his brain to flood his cock. He nearly blacked the fuck out, and all she did was fucking laugh.

But that wasn’t all she did…not to him.

That was the first real smile, real laugh he’d seen since he’d started…following her.

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