Page 80 of Heated
Anger surges out of the depths of my pain, swirling and hot. Yes, I betrayed her trust. But I am not less of a person or beneath her. And I’m through allowing her to treat or speak to me that way simply because of the zip code where she lays her head every night.
“My place is wherever I decide it to be. And you, or anyone else, don’t get a say in that. And you can come for me all you want; I deserve it because, woman to woman, I owe you an apology, and I’m sorry. But, Ms.Valerie Summers, the day you decide to come for my business, which belongs to my family, all bets are off. And I’ll come right back for you.”
Her lips curl in a sneer. “Didn’t take long for that Five Points to come out of you, did it?”
“Hold on, Zora,” Cyrus says from just behind me.
I stiffen.
“Val, you can go too. You don’t have any business here.”
She straightens, blue eyes glittering. “I was invited here.”
“You allowed yourself to be used by an insecure, manipulative, malicious bitch. That’s not my fault. And I would feel sorry for you if you didn’t have your own agenda for being here. You cheated on me with another man behind my back, and when that fell through, you thought I was stupid enough to take you back. Sorry to break it to you. I’m not. I don’t want you. That’s why I haven’t been answering your phone calls and texts. If you are too self-absorbed to get that, then traveling all the way here is your fault, not mine.”
She gasps, whipping around on me again. “You told him. That was told to you in strict confidence.”
Cyrus laughs, and Val turns back to him at the dark sound. “Oh no, Val. She didn’t tell me anything. You did. But I guarantee you this. You go after Zora’s business, I’ll make sure everyone knows. And then after you were dumped, how you chased me up here? Do you think your pristine reputation can suffer that hit? Me? I really don’t give a fuck. But you? With your committees and foundations ...”
“You wouldn’t,” Val snarls. “Overher.”
“Do you want to test me? Go home,” he repeats. Then his gaze flicks to me. “Both of you.”
Val sputters in outrage, but I don’t wait to hear her tirade.
I go as he requested while I can under my own power.
While I can with my head held high.
While I can before I collapse and give in to the pain threatening to tear me apart.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ZORA
The door to my office flies open, and it bangs against the wall, making me jump in my desk chair.
Shit.
Miriam poses in the doorway like a Black Charlie’s Angel, a grocery bag dangling above her head and a hand clasping the edge of the doorframe.
Despite the emptiness that has dogged me for a week, I snicker. The woman coined the termextra.
“Oh for ...” Levi lifts her arm and steps over her stretched-out leg, entering the office and tugging on the hem of his vest.
It’s after seven thirty in the evening, and my brother is still impeccably dressed in a three-piece blue-and-gray pinstripe suit, as if it’s seven thirty in the morning. I don’t know how he does it. It’s a little unsettling, and if we hadn’t shared a womb, I’d check his back for a battery panel.
“You have no flair for the dramatic, Leviticus. Your soul is going to shrivel and perish without watering it with the arts.”
“I’ll survive,” he drawls. “And you took one semester of theater in high school where you played Dancer Number fucking Three onThe Corny Collins ShowinHairspray. That does not make you a thespian.”
Miriam jabs a finger at the back of his head as he sprawls into the chair in front of my desk. I think he rendered her speechless. Levi has that effect on people. That and stirring homicidal urges.
“You’re the first person going when they enact the purge, guy,” she mutters, stalking to my desk and plopping her grocery bag on the top. “Here. I made a promise, and I’m here to fulfill it.”
With that announcement she takes the chair next to Levi.
“Should I even ask what you two are doing here?” I ask, reaching for the bag.
