Page 4 of Wicked Debt

She didn’t make eye contact and instead stared out at the view.

One I knew she didn’t give a fuck about either.

But she had made her point.

“Let me know when it’s done,” I said as she stood.

She gave me a faint, almost imperceptible nod of her head.

Then she turned and left without another word.

I leaned back in my chair, felt myself relaxing, even though I hadn’t realized I was tense.

I should have, though.

Even now, when she was gone, Kayla’s presence had much too strong of an impact on me.

I had yet to figure out why and promised I wouldn’t drive myself crazy trying to do so.

Besides, Kayla was doing a good enough job of driving me insane by herself.

I didn’t get it.

All those years ago, when I had made that deal with her, I hadn’t foreseen where I would end up.

I’d called myself doing a good deed, taking pity on her and the piece of shit she called her father, and look what it had gotten me.

No end of problems, all because of her.

I told myself she was just an itch, one I couldn’t scratch so I would instead ignore.

Some part of me whispered that wasn’t true, knew that whatever it was about her that got under my skin couldn’t be so easily shaken.

But I ignored that voice too.

I had shit to do, lots of it, and no end of problems in sight.

I wouldn’t let Kayla—and whatever the fuck she did to me—become another one.

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