Page 15 of Liars and Liaisons

“It won’t make my brother any less angry when he finds out about us.”

My head jerks back reflexively, and he drops my hair, shifting away.

“You can’t tell him,” I rush out, panic swirling like a thunderstorm in my chest. “The whole point of me being there last night was to get him back, and now—”

“You think he’ll be disgusted with you.” There’s no emotion in his words.

I don’t say anything. Not sure there’s anything tosay.

“What will you do to keep me quiet?”

“Huh?”

Grayson shrugs. “You don’t want me to tell Nathaniel so you can, presumably, get back together and live the perfect little fairy-tale life with him. Requests like that come with a price.”

“It wasn’t a request,” I reply slowly. “Haven’t you ever done something just for the sake of a good deed?”

He seems to consider this. Then, “No. You don’t get anywhere in life by doing things for free.”

“It’s notfree. It’s agood deed.”

“That I get nothing out of.”

Irritation rises in my gut, replacing my anxiety with its leaden weight.Was my body not payment enough?“You get the knowledge that you did something for someone. Something helpful.”

For a moment, he stays silent, scanning my face. I can’t help wondering what he sees.

“Unfortunately, that doesn’t interest me.”

My facial expression falls, and he must find it amusing because he laughs again.

“Jesus, where did Nathaniel find you? Do you always expect people to want to do theright thing? A bit naive, don’t you think?”

Ignoring that, I point at him. “What do you want from me?”

His gaze dips to my bare shoulders, and I attempt to cover myself with the dress.

“I’ve already seen it all, but go ahead and try to maintain some modesty for the future. You’re going to need it.”

I start to ask what that means and why he can’t speak in anything but cryptic riddles when he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a tiny white business card.

Grayson James, Professor of Composition, New England Art Academy.

When I turn it over, there’s an address scribbled on the back. Some town I’ve never heard of. I look up at him, brows scrunching together, and he flicks the card.

“Show up here, and I’ll tell you what I want.”

“Are you going to murder me?”

A cloud of some unrecognizable emotion passes over his face, shadowing the stark angles. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead before you could wake up and identify me.”

I stare down at the card, blinking rapidly as I try to compute everything that’s happened. The throbbing in my head renews itself, and I curl my fingers around the cardstock, wondering if I have a choice in the matter.

He watches me silently for several long beats. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but that isn’t even what bothers me most—it’s that my memories from last night are wiped completely.

I can’t remember what it feels like to be beneath him or to have him beneath me.Insideme. I gave him something I’d kept for so long, and this is my only reward. My only proof.

It’s unnerving. Disappointing even.

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