Page 62 of Power Play

“When did you change your locks?”

“Motherfucker,” Trey hisses. “How the fuck did you get a key?”

Shawn simply smiles his Joker-like smile. “I have my sources.” His attention shifts from Trey back to me. “Tell me, Trailer, is there something going on between you and the wash-up behind me?”

“Not that it matters, but no.” Keeping my eyes on Shawn instead of flicking to Trey takes every last drop of resistance I have in my body. “Nothing is going on between us.”

“I don't believe you.”

Fuck. Not that I would care if people knew Trey and I are fooling around, but not Shawn. He'll find some way to use it against me, use it against Trey. I lose the internal fight and give Trey a pleading look. He doesn't notice, his attention solely on a patch of wall slightly above my head.

I swallow past the rising panic.

“It would be a shame, wouldn't it?” Shawn says, cutting through the uncomfortable silence. “For Benson to lose the job he so loves for a chance at a cunt that's already been passed around most of DC under Kyle's bidding.” His eyes flash in victory. He doesn’t know Trey knows the truth, everything. Even still, unease rolls my gut. What if Trey believes him? “Not to mention the media circus that would ensue at yet another disastrous relationship for him.” He clicks his tongue. “His family name dragged through the media mud once again.”

What?

When confusion furrows my dark brows, power lights in those evil eyes. “Ah, I see he hasn't told you everything. Well, it's a good thing I can fill you in—”

“Out,” Trey bellows, stalking toward Shawn. Panic replaces the earlier victory in the asshole’s wide eyes. “Get out now.”

Not waiting for a reply, Trey wraps a hand around the back of Shawn's neck, hauling him off the couch.

“Get your hands off me,” Shawn yells. “You'll regret this, Benson. I'll ruin you, ruin your family.”

Trey's pounding feet don't falter as he flings the door open, slamming it against the wall. The crack of plaster sounds through the condo. With a final shove from Trey, Shawn stumbles out into the hallway. His face is beet red, nostrils flaring when he turns furious eyes on Trey.

“This isn't over.” I blanch, shifting back in the chair when his focus turns on me. “You will pay for this, both of you.”

The entire condo shakes at the slam of the door. I flinch at the sound.

Trey's shoulders rise and fall in quick succession, his palms sealed to the closed door, head hanging.

What the hell just happened?

I snap my attention back to Trey from where it'd fallen to the floor. Phone at his ear, he mumbles something, pauses with a silent nod, and then slides the phone from his face. He still hasn't turned.

Confusion morphs into hurt tinged with anger.

“What the hell was all that about?” My voice shakes with the swirl of emotions I can't get a handle on. “I know you said you two had a history, but what he said about another disastrous relationship? Media circus? What the hell, Trey?”

Time stands still. He releases a loud, resigned sigh.

“Look at me,” I demand. I swallow back the unshed tears clogging my throat.

“Grem will be here shortly. Don't leave.”

“Trey?” I can't keep the pain from seeping into my tone.

Why does my heart ache? He owes me nothing. I shouldn't care. But I do. Fuck, I do. Each heavy thud of my heart sends another aching pang through my chest.

“Good luck tonight,” he mumbles in goodbye.

Anger at myself and rejection from his avoidance mix, needing an outlet. I furiously scan the room. Snatching the iPad from the other chair, I hurl it across the room with a banshee scream. The screen splinters against the wall before the device falls to the carpet with a deafening thump.

Chest heaving, I focus on the destroyed electronic.

At least now I'm not the only broken thing in this fucking room.

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