Page 49 of Seven Nights

“Don’t tell me you’re selling it.”

I’m not telling him anything.

Montgomery gives his nose a little pinch then runs his hands along the sides of his dress slacks.

“You did an amazing thing for your mother, Kate.”

I respond with a tight shake of my head, unclenching my jaw just long enough to rebut the compliment. “Obviously you never compared the medal times for the summer games against my trial times.”

“Don't make your sacrifice less than it was, Katelyn,” he says, taking a seat on my rickety side chair.

Thinking Montgomery is positioning himself to make some kind of move on me, I shoot him a hard stare in warning.

Looking at the bastard straight in the eyes hurts like hell.

While his face remains difficult to read, something dances in the blue gaze. Problem is, I have no idea what that “something” means. Bigger problem, there’s a very stupid part of me that feels it’s not too late to invite him back in. If he’s getting personal—talking about my mother—maybe he’s ready to open up about his own past.

No, I think, shaking my head again as I turn my attention to feeding the last of my paper into the shredder. Montgomery intends to soften me up, weaken me with compliments and thoughts of my mother. He wants to remind me that I am willing to give up everything for the right person.

I desperately need to keep in mind how Montgomery isn’t that person.

“Kate, tell me you’re not selling it,” he repeats.

I sprinkle in the last of the shredder paper and try not to think of me at two, on my mother’s lap, listening to her readingThe Little Mermaidand other fairy tales, the lamp on the table beside us. I try even harder not to remember all the dark hours spent in the closet when she was off her meds or how this was the light she finally allowed me to bring in with us.

“You’re not selling it,” Montgomery says as he takes the packing tape off the table. “You’re returning to the estate with me and finishing the week. I’ll double the payout.”

There he goes again, throwing orders around. It doesn’t matter how soft the command. The words tell me everything. He could have said he wanted me to come back. Better yet, he could admit to needing me to come back. That might have slowed my refusal, even reversed it.

Instead, he continues to treat me like a whore he can boss around.

I look at him, tears drying on my cheeks.

“You've never met a person you can't buy, have you?” I shake my head. “I'm done with you, Montgomery.”

He looks stunned—for all of a second. Then he recovers. He jabs a finger toward the box.

“Katelyn, I'm offering something that could be life changing…”

A soft, almost forgiving smile, ghosts my lips. “You've already changed my life, and it didn't cost you a dime. Goodbye, Griffin.”

The stunned look returns. His bottom lip bobs. His tongue moves behind the gate of perfect white teeth. I cannot tell what word he finds impossible to shape.

It doesn’t matter.

“You know I won't call the cops to make you leave.” Hooking his gaze, I realize I don’t have any tears left. Not for this man, at least not at this moment. It gives me hope that I can get over him. It will take time, but I can feel the strength to do so building inside me.

“Please stop doing this to me,” I whisper.

His mouth closes. Looking down, he grips the sidearm of the chair and nods then pushes onto his feet.

Heading for the front door, he passes out of view—and out of my life.

Griffin

Finger bouncing in irritation,I click the re-submit button on my screen. The display refreshes, showing me the last thirty days of transactions on my personal expense account. I scan the numbers in search of one line with a very specific amount.

Fifty thousand dollars.

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