Page 72 of Devil's Riches

It wasn’t love. Simply couldn’t be. I was probably just mixing up my emotions because of the trauma and upheaval I’d experienced over the last several weeks. Not just from my captivity and torture, but from my search for answers regarding my father and the Golden Circle. Nate was helping me with that search, because it was just as important to him now that he knew his own father had fallen prey to their evil machinations, and obviously, our work together was sending all sorts of mixed signals to the primal parts of my brain.

My subconscious used to register him as an enemy; someone to be deeply afraid of. But now it registered him as a friend. A trusted companion. Sometimes a lover.

Given that, it wasn’t any surprise that I felt such a strong rush of endorphins whenever I saw him.

Also, I knew that sleeping with a man was supposed to release bonding chemicals in a woman’s brain. Oxytocin. That was exactly what was happening to me—every time I rushed to jump into Nate’s arms, my body betrayed me by releasing a cocktail of hormones that made me feel closer to him.

That’s it, then,I told myself, steeling my jaw. To rid myself of my unwanted feelings for Nate, I had to stop sleeping with him.

Something told me it wouldn’t be that easy, though.

He came out of the bathroom and picked up his clothes. “We should probably leave,” he said as he buttoned the top of his pants.

My forehead wrinkled. “You don’t want to sleep here?”

He shook his head. “We need to get home and take something to Mom and Greg,” he said. “All we left for them the other day was a granola bar, so that’s all they’ve had over the last three days, apart from water.”

“Oh. Right.” I nodded slowly. “Can’t have them starving to death.”

I stood up, put my panties back on, and smoothed my hair. Nate picked up my purse for me, and we headed out of the suite and toward the nearest elevator.

We rode down to the lobby in silence, and our drive back to the Lockwood estate was equally quiet. I was too lost in my muddled thoughts to have a conversation with Nate, and I was also afraid I’d open my mouth and accidentally admit everything I felt earlier, making myself look like a pathetic schoolgirl with a ridiculous, pointless crush.

When we got back to the estate, we parked at the front of the house. I lifted my right hand to open the passenger door, but Nate pressed a button, making the lock slide down.

I turned to look at him. “What are you doing?” I asked, heart suddenly thudding with anxiety.

“I need to talk to you about something before we go inside,” he said. He wasn’t looking at me. He was focusing on the darkness beyond the windscreen.

My forehead creased. “Oh. What is it?”

His lips twitched as if he were trying to find words that kept eluding him. Then he finally spoke up again. “I should’ve said this three days ago. I don’t know why I didn’t,” he began. He paused to rub the bridge of his nose. “I was wrong.”

“About what?”

“You. You were right about everything.” Another short pause. “Those two girls… you told me you didn’t kill them, over and over. I didn’t believe you then, but I believe you now. It was obviously the Golden Circle.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, shoulders sinking low. “I made a mistake when I took you, Lexie. A huge fucking mistake. I know I can’t ever take it back, but I wish I could.”

I thought I’d feel a rush of relief and vindication when he said that, but instead I felt hollow, as if some part of me genuinely didn’t believe in my own innocence anymore.

“We still don’t know what I did that night when your camera caught me sneaking out and coming home covered in blood,” I murmured. “Who knows? Maybe I did have something to do with it. Maybe I’m just as unhinged as you always thought, and I’m some sort of sleeper agent for the organization.”

“Don’t say that. Not even as a joke.” Nate lay a heavy hand on my left thigh. “You were right the whole time. All that shit I thought I had on you was just a coincidence. A huge fucking coincidence.”

I looked over at him. “I’m not joking,” I said. “Seriously, what the hell happened that night? What was I doing out there at two in the morning?”

“You were sleepwalking. That’s why you don’t remember. And all the blood was from your period, just like you told me weeks ago.”

“And the scratch on my face?”

“A branch scraped you when you walked past. Or maybe you scratched your own face. Your nails are pretty long.”

“What about the anti-psychotic medication bottle you found in my trashcan? The one with my name on it?”

Nate scraped a hand through his hair and sighed. “I guess it’s like you said. The pharmacist must’ve accidentally mislabeled your sleeping pills.”

My brows dipped in a frown. “It’s almost like someone was setting me up,” I murmured. “There was so much stuff against me.”

“I know. But you didn’t actually do anything. I should’ve listened to you.” Nate’s shoulders sagged again, and he slowly shook his head. “I should’ve fucking listened.”

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