Page 206 of Hateful Games

“Maybe you’re being paranoid.”

“So everybody keeps telling me,” I grudgingly retort, finishing off the beer and slamming the empty bottle on the table.

Nathan perceptively observes me before carefully asking, “Have you shared your past with Rosalie?”

My shoulders tense, darkness swimming in as cruel memories infiltrate my head. The yelling, the crying, followed by eerie quietness. All of it comes rushing back like a dark cloud. I answer in an impassive tone, “No. I don’t plan to.”

“Why?”

I raise one eyebrow. “Because she will only end up hating me more. That’s if she even believes me in the first place. Her parents have kept her in the dark and she’s chosen to believe every lie they’ve told her instead of questioning them.”

“Then your marriage will never work.”

“I confess every sordid betrayal and she will have to choose between her family and me. We both know who she’ll choose.” My voice devoid of emotion, I say with finality, “I would rather have her hate me and keep her than tell the truth and lose her.”

Somber silence falls between us and I twist to wave at the bartender for another beer. Except, my eyes land on two tall and imposing figures at the bar that has me doing a double take and has my hackles rising.

“What the hell is Dash doing here?”

Nathan follows my gaze and mumbles, “Have you banished him from here? Last I checked, he was a member too.”

“Unless he’s got a doppelganger with the same close friend, he cannot be at two places at the same time.”

“You’re keeping a tab on his whereabouts?” he asks, confused.

“Where is Iris tonight?”

“At her parents’,” he answers while still wearing a ‘you’ve gone insane’ expression. “I repeat, what does Dash’s or Iris’s whereabouts have to do with anything?”

“It means your girl is lying and so is mine.” Ignoring his perplexed features, I stand and walk toward the oblivious pair at the bar. Nathan not far behind me. As soon as I’m near, I clear my throat and greet, “Gentlemen.”

Dash’s head snaps toward mine and his broody gaze deepens. However, I don’t miss him draw to the same conclusion as me. That our girls have plotted behind our backs and tricked us. Why, though, is still to be solved.

“Aren’t you supposed to be traveling?” His tone is emotionless.

“I should be asking you the same.”

“Care to explain what the fuck you two are talking about?” interrupts another voice belonging to Dash’s friend, Justin Merchant. His deeply amused gaze ping-ponging between his friend and I. “Never been a fan of mysteries.”

“Apparently their women have lied to them and they’ve been fooled,” answers Nathan with mirth.

“Iris has lied to you too,” I taunt. “She isn’t at her parents’.”

Justin laughs at all our expressions, from Nathan’s incredulous one to Dash’s and mine irritated scowls. Throwing his arm around Dash’s shoulder, he cockily says, “Aren’t you glad I brought you here?”

“A certain spitfire has brought you here, you idiot,” insults Dash.

“Being lovey-dovey has made you lose brain cells, man.” Taking a sip of his drink, he continues, “I don’t even remember her face, let alone being interested in chasing her.”

“Is that why you begged me to give the spitfire her apartment back?” quips Dash, lifting one haughty brow.

“I said give everyone their apartments back, not specifically her.”

“You also come crawling back here every month in the name of business meetings. You’ve become a pathetic stalker. One day, I’m going to be bailing your ass out of jail.”

Justin’s jaw tics. “I see why Bianca would want a few days away from you.”

“As much as I love listening to you both banter, I have a more pressing matter,” I interrupt them and flick my gaze to Dash’s calculative one. “What did Bianca exactly tell you?”

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