Page 19 of Treason's Temptation
“I sure will. I know he’ll be upset he missed you.”
“I’m sure I’ll hear about it.”
“Thank you again for your donation, Navie.”
“You’re welcome.”
There was no thanks needed. Her imagination offered me an escape—a place to be a child and refine my acting skills. Initially, Sloane refused to drag me to the east side to hang out at the rec center playing make-believe. Her lesson to never take no for an answer backfired when I refused to play nice with husband number two until she said yes.
Miss Jackie hugged me again, thankingThe Green Ribbon Project,before I left to blow off some steam. The tennis racket felt weighted in my palm while throwing up a serve. It had been awhile since I felt the need to hit the court. The sun was relentless and hot, but I welcomed the burn.
Wiping my forehead with the back of my hand, I tossed the ball again—a welcome distraction from whatever gameTreasonwanted to play. I didn’t owe him anything. Not my time, or an explanation. Yet it still ate me alive trying to find the thread I left hanging. It followed me from the court to the post office. It was damn near making me obsessive.
No way, Treason is that good.
After grabbing what I needed, I tossed the rest into the trash when my phone buzzed with a text from Donovan.
I'm at the library. Don’t forget to bring the notes.
When I arrived, Donovan was in a discreet corner blending in with the hustle. Sitting across from him, I handed over the portable hard drive.
“It’s all there. Credit card numbers, expiration dates, and CVVs.”
Donovan hooked it up to his laptop and quickly scanned the files.
His fingers moved over the screen with practiced ease, eyes narrowed in focus. “Goddamn. You killed ‘em on this haul. That dress must’ve put a hurtin’ on ‘em.”
My ego couldn’t register Donovan’s compliment. It was still bruised from how the night ended, but he was too busy working his magic to notice.
“It’s all set. Transfers are lined up, and the bitcoin is secure.”
I reached for his laptop, giving it a second look before hitting the magic button. Each column housed a transfer small enough to be mistaken for a weekly shopping trip, but large enough to cover my expenses and put away money for medical school.
“Take this one off.”
“Treason Westbrook?” He looked over, waiting for an explanation.
“I don’t want to end up in jail. Do you?” I snapped, returning the laptop to him.
Donovan’s face grew serious. “It’s done.”
We’d done this dance too often for Donovan to question me now. He was a contractor, hired to do a job, but I ran the show.
“I have my cut and split yours between two accounts. Pleasure doing business, as always.”
Usually, the rush was undeniable, but stepping onto the busy street, I felt nothing. So I went home and got dolled up because I always felt better when I looked better. My usually sleek hair was styled in curls and pinned up to accentuate my face. None of it fixed that nagging feeling in my stomach. The drinks and expensive meal helped, but Sloane always said the best way to get over one man was to get a new one. Scanning the restaurant for distractions, Rayven’s name appeared on my screen.
“Hey! Are you okay?” I rushed to answer.
“Yeah,” Rayven giggled. “I’m fine. Relax.”
“You scared me.”
“By calling?”
“Yes, because you should be studying. Not calling me.”
“I took a break to say thank you.” Rayven’s words lingered the way they always did when she held back.
