Page 141 of Dirty Damage

“... Syd?”

“I’m here.” She lowers her voice to a meek whisper. “Listen, I hope Drew didn’t make this sound like a big deal or anything, okay? It’s not. We just hit a rough patch. Paul will cool down and we’ll get past it.”

A rage I can’t leash down bubbles up in me. “‘A rough patch’? Syd, he hit you and then you disappeared for weeks! He basicallykidnapped you and then shipped you off with Drew when he was finished.”

“It wasn’t like—” She takes a deep breath, trying to control herself. Not for my sake, but for Paul’s. Because she’s going to defend him, I already know it. “I just didn’t want to talk.”

“To me specifically? Because I’m the only person who tells you the truth?”

Forget toeing the line; I’m dancing on it. I’ll be lucky if Sydney doesn’t hang up on me forever, but I can’t keep any of this inside anymore.

“You’re with a man who makes you miserable!” I add. “Who hits you and makes you feel like shit, and I’m the only one who will tell you to dump his worthless ass!”

“You don’t understand, Sut. You’ve never been in love.”

I laugh. It’s a sharp, bitter sound that makes me feel even worse. “Sydney, you can’t really think you love Paul.”

“We’ve been together for three years. He’s my person.”

“No,I’myour person!” Tears well in my eyes, and I swipe them away angrily. “I’msupposed to be your person, Syd. It’s always been you and me against the world.”

“Oh yeah? My engagement announcement must’ve gotten lost in the mail. You get engaged to a billionaire and I have to find out in the tabloids.”

I recoil from the phone like she hit me herself. “Okay, that’s not— It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I heard that from someone else, too.” She snorts. “Drew told me none of this is real.”

“Drew doesn’t know a fucking thing,” I hiss. “You can’t trust him.”

“At least he’s here.” She sniffles, and I know she’s crying, too. How the hell did we get here? We’re literally, emotionally, on opposite ends of the globe from each other, and I don’t know how to fix it.

“You don’t get to lecture me while you’re engaged to Oleg. At least Paul and I love each other.”

Classic Sydney. Cornered animals always bite the hand trying to feed them.

But fuck if she hasn’t drawn blood this time.

“You may love him, but does he love you?”

“Of course he does.” The response is automatic, robotic. “He’s just… passionate. He gets upset and he?—”

“He’s a brute, Sydney!”

“Better a brute than a scarred beast, Sutton!” After a beat of silence, she continues. “Drew told me all about your fiancé and his nickname. Are you really going to tell me our situations are so different?”

I glance at the door, paranoid Oleg might walk in even though I know he’s still downstairs. My hands are trembling so hard I can barely hold the phone.

“They are different,” I say, but even I hear the uncertainty in my voice.

Why can’t I find the words to explain how this thing with Oleg is nothing like her and Paul?

Because it is. It’s so much different. Oleg isn’t a monster. Oleg doesn’t hurt me.

But…

“You’ve made your feelings about my relationship clear. I know you think Paul is using me and he’ll dump me once he’s finished, but what makes you think your billionaire is any different?” she asks. “Unless you want to tell me you think Oleg Pavlov is actually in love with you?”

I want to argue, but I can’t.

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