Page 39 of Treachery

Then it hit her.

Oh God! He’d heard her babbling to herself. Planting her face in her hands, she muttered a muffled, “Just forget I exist so I can disappear.”

He chuckled. “No can do, baby. Come on, get out of the car. I can’t promise not to jump your bones the moment you walk through the door, but I won’t promisenotto, either.”

Shaking her head, she huffed and dropped her hands, turning to glare at Locust as he opened her car door.

Much like he’d done that day at the bar, Locust held his hand out to her, expecting her to take it. This time around, however, she didn’t sneer at it like a rabid dog; she took it, letting him help her out of the car. She was thankful she’d work an ankle-length skirt, so getting out the car without flashing Locust was easy enough, then again, her shirt was a peasant blouse that tied in the front, and the ties were loose, so Locust had a free looksee down her cleavage. His deep blue eyes flashed with heat before they cooled, and Nadia was impressed by the amount of control he exuded.

Control or loss of interest? Maybe he saw your saggy tits and decided that boning you was no longer on the agenda.

But was him boning her ever on the agenda for the night? Apparently so, because there was no missing the taint of disappointment in her chest.

Stop with the negative thoughts, woman!

This was a turning point for them, she knew that, and she refused to be a bitch about it. Yeah, she’d been petty, and it had felt amazing at the time. Now, though, she wondered what the hell happened to make her that way.

Joe. Dana. James. Three people who’d used her for their own means. Whereas Joe and James thought fucking her would win them what they wanted, Dana thought that sliding into her life as the “understanding” work friend would get her a few free designer bags and red soled shoes out of the deal. It didn’t take long to figure out Dana’s angle—she hadn’t been all that “friendly” until word spread about Nadia winning the jackpot—but it had taken longer to figure out Joe’s true intentions. And she’d only figured out James’s because she’d overheard him. How much longer would he have kept up the ruse before he dropped her?

Mentally shaking her head, she remembered where she was, and that she could ask him. Right now.

But she didn’t want to, not yet, not until she had a chance to get a few things off her chest.

She hoped that sitting down and talking with Locust would help get her mind right, so she could go back to being good ol’ Old Nadia, the woman she’d been before Locust’s betrayal.

On her feet, she moved out of the way so Locust could close her car door. It slammed shut, then he turned and headed toward the duplex on the left, her hand still gripped in his. Tightly.

She sucked in a breath, wondering if she was really ready to step inside of Locust’s domain, the one place he’d never wanted to take her inthe before.

But she didn’t have time to think about it because she was stepping across the threshold before she could blink.

Locust didn’t drop her hand, leading her into the living area, turning to shut the door, then leading her into a small kitchen-dining combo area. He turned, flashed her a grin, and squeezed the hand he still held in his grip.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have Diet Coke, Diet Dr. Pepper, Angry Orchard, and that nasty Mike’s Hard shit.”

She grinned, knowing it must have hurt to even carry the hard lemonade to the cash register.

“I’ll have a Diet Coke, please,” she replied, deciding that she needed a clear head for the conversation they were about to have.

He went to the fridge grabbed her a soda, and snagged himself a bottle of water.

He must have the same idea about clear heads.

Popping open the can, she took a swig, suddenly dying of thirst.

“Come on,” Locust said, softly, his eyes warm. “Let’s go sit in the living room.”

She nodded, and followed him to the comfortable looking overstuffed couch.

Settling into the cushion closest to the door, Locust waited for her to choose where she could sit; right next to him, or as far from him as possible on the other side of the couch.

She took the seat furthest from him, and she didn’t miss the look of understanding yet disappointment on his face.

Facing him, she remained silent, gathering her thoughts. He seemed to do the same, his gaze on her face, studying her, as though he were trying to see where her mind was.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Nadia…I know I hurt you?—”

She held up her hand to stop him right there; she needed to speak first, or she’d never get it out. And she needed to get it out.

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