Page 68 of Dissension

He’s saying that Dieter tacked the judge’s horse that day. That he purposely set the girth to be dangerously loose. Good lord. And maybe,just maybe, that makes sense.

Why would Nick be unsettled about Dieter otherwise, if Dieter hadn’t been involved in some way? Still, she can’t see himmurderingsomeone. “What if you simply remember it incorrectly?”

Nick scoffs in disbelief. “I don’t remember it incorrectly. You forget; I have known Dieter nearly my entire life. Sometimes, weird accidents add up when they seem to be near the same person. Let’s just say it wasn’t his first rodeo, even then.”

Kara gnaws on her lower lip, stunned, trying to make sense of this ugly mess. She doesn’t want it to be real. She knows Dieter, even if Nick says she doesn’t. He’s not a killer. He’s just selfish and self-serving. “But if it’s true, why were there no consequences? If it’s just speculation, then, well-”

Leaning forward in his seat, Nick replies, “Why do you think? You know the legal system and you know it favors those with money. The Bittinger’s can make ‘problems’ vanish. You want to know the worst of it? My mother never forgave me for what he did,” Nick says coldly, hatefully. “In her mind, I’d ratted her meal ticket out. Hans Bittinger’s wicked little sociopath figured out what had been done to me and because it amused him, hefoundan accident for her. Not because he wanted to help me or anything, but because he wasboredand he didn’t like that my afternoons were being taken up by her.”

The horror of the statement hits Kara like a sledgehammer. Of all the things Nick has said thus far, this is what sounds like Dieter. The boredom, the selfishness. Orchestrating a woman’s death because her existence annoyed him. It boggles the mind, and yet, the shoe fits.

Lord, Kara wishes it didn’t. She doesn’t want to believe it. Not Dieter, not that compelling smile, those beautiful dazzling eyes, that seductively submissive tone…

“He should have never interfered,” Nick continues with acid in his voice. “I didn’t mourn that wretched woman, but my mother was furious. It was as if everything I had suffered was for nothing. A waste. Nothing I did was ever good enough.”

Anger and sadness fuse into something that Kara can’t keep off her face. “Don’t you realize your mother had no right to be madat you? You were a child and she sold you off to beabused.” She shakes her head, horrified. “How can you evenspeakto her still, knowing how she used you like a political tool in such a sick manner?”

He closes his eyes and won’t look at her. His throat works visibly, his emotions held under tight check.

Voice dipping into a soft utterance, Kara asks him, “And Claire has no idea? No inkling?”

He shakes his head, jaw clenched.

Kara comes over to the table and sits down across from him. Carefully, she reaches out a shaky hand and takes his. “I won’t say anything; words can’t even begin to atone for what happened. But I want you to know that I’m angryfor you.”

He yanks his hand away, huffing, red on his cheekbones. Shame, humiliation. “I don’t want your emotional bullshit on the matter,” he snaps. “I don’t need help. I’m not weak.”

Sorrow fills Kara like lead; she never wanted him to feel humiliated by her having this knowledge. She’d never use it against him. “You’re not weak. You’re just…”

“Messed up? Ruined? Disgusting?” Self-loathing brews in his blue eyes. Something Kara is well familiar with herself. “I don’t know why you’d want to have anything to do with me, knowingany of this. The thingsI’ve done.” His voice cracks. “The things doneto me. I was violated until I almost became numb to it, until someone begging me to stop was the only release I could find. I’vepissedin someone’s mouth because it got them off. I wasthirteen.”

The room fills with an aura of deep misery. The aroma of self-hate and violence.

Kara blinks rapidly, wanting the tears to vanish, but one slips down her cheek. “Because the crime that happened to you,happened to you. It isn’tyou.” Kara wishes she could make him understand. “You’re still the same asshole I’ve known all this time. Still smart. Sharp-tongued.Witty. Classy, when you feel like it. This doesn’t change any ofthat.”

Nick’s shoulders are still tense and he’s having difficulty meeting her gaze. He’s withdrawing. “We always were bettertogether when our lips were busy with other things,” he says tonelessly. “Less talking and more doing. None of this emotionalrefuse.”

It would be in bad taste for Kara to admit that more than once, she thought she liked him better with his mouth shut, too. That was a long time ago though. It’s exhausting, knowing that his defense mechanism is starting to surface; to be brash, crude. To push her away. She knows, because her own nature is to become aggressive when feeling defensive. They are alike, this way. Never wanting anyone to gettooclose.

Kara stands up from the table, unable to stay seated. “We don’t need to turn this into a fight, Nick. You don’t have to treat me like I’m the enemy.”

He stands as well, his greater height giving him an authoritative edge over her. “I’m not treating you any different than I always have.” Within moments, he’s standing closer to her, the dark scent of his cologne washing over her senses in a midnight wave. “I’m just done with this conversation.”

Oh no.He’s channeling the emotional unrest in the room. Fueling an aggressive undercurrent.

One of his large hands finds its way to her hip, dragging her flush with his body. He looks down at her, eyes half-lidded, gaze dark and unreadable. His other hand buries itself in her mane of hair, keeping her in place. His breath touches her lips and Kara knows what he wants. “Do you regret bringing me here yet?”

This is not what she planned.Shit.She can’t let this get out of control. “Please, don’t do this. Respect my boundaries-”

He presses against her, all strength and barely contained power. “The way you respected mine? Snooping into my life, as if it’s yours to know.”

Her lip trembles and pain strikes low. “I only wanted to help you. So, we can talk about what hurt us both and move forward-”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he tells her, using his body to completely overpower her. “I want you to make me forget.”

“Don’t.Nick.” She pleads with him, but she knows it falls on ears only too eager to listen to her refusal. It doesn’t matter if she means it or not; he gets off on her sayingno. “Please, don’t.”

“We both know this is really what you want,” he tells Kara as he manhandles her over to the couch, his hands like iron manacles at her wrists. “Youlikewhen I’m the villain. It gets you wet, same as it gets me hard.”

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