Page 25 of Craving Oblivion

I glared at him. “Like your parents ignoring you after your brother died? Or how about your mom skipping town rather than being around you ever? Your dad calling you stupid and worthless? Or worse, he’s not your dad, and the hired help shows up and says, ‘Hey, I could be your dad—don’t know, don’t care, because I didn’t want you in the first place’? That must be what you mean when you say shitty. Because if you mean your dad hit you, I’d take that over the neglect and psychological bullshit I’ve been forced to live with since you showed up.”

Steve cleared his throat. His eyes were misty, full of old memories and something that looked like…fear. As if he believed I would reject him. “He did hit me. Often. He beat my mother into such a pulp, she died.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply. “Yeah, that’s shitty,” I managed to choke out. “And now I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”

He edged closer, and his hand found my shoulder. “I know I failed you. Hell, everyone in your life who was supposed to protect you failed you. Except Cam and his family.”

“And Aya,” I said. I blinked my eyes open, shock causing my mouth to gape. I hadn’t meant to say that, to even think it. But her name spilled out.

Steve nodded. “She was the best thing that happened to you.”

I raised my eyebrow. “I thought you’d say that was Cam introducing me to Asher Smith.”

Steve shook his head, face serious. “If I could go back and kick my own ass, I would. I was star-struck and excited for you to take that deal. Hell, I told your mom you wanted it, glossed over all the stuff Asher and Cam said about maybe you should wait. They were right, you know. Taking that contract then? It wasn’t the best choice for you.”

The weight of this conversation made my chest ache. I lowered myself onto the bench-press bench. “It wasn’t the best choice for Aya and me. She knew it, too. She knew it even though she supported me.”

Steve knelt in front of me, his palm on my cheek, his fingers on my neck. His eyes were murky. “As I said, not the best thing for you.”

I bit my lower lip. His touch stirred emotions in me, ones I hadn’t felt in a long time. Good ones—safety and love. I wanted to shrug him off, but even more I wanted him to draw me into his arms and rock me like my mother used to.

A sob bubbled up my throat. I shoved it back down. “Are you my biological father?” I asked.

He dropped his hand to his knee, and his lips compressed into a thin line. He looked into my eyes. “Yes.”

I exhaled, but it wasn’t a harsh breath of recrimination. It felt cleansing. “Okay.”

12

Aya

“I really don’t need this,” I muttered as I hung up the phone, annoyance spiking through me. Alistair had demanded that I meet him in an hour at a posh London restaurant.

My hands shook, and I bumped the small package Camden Grace’s wife had handed me off the counter. I hadn’t had the courage to open it, nor had I found the will to chuck it, so it had sat there, on my kitchen counter, for weeks. Taunting me.

On a held breath, I studied the now partially opened cardboard gift box. A note peeked out the side. Definitely Nash’s handwriting. I scooped it all up and set it on the counter next to my purse. I moved to the other side of the kitchen, turning on the kettle to make a cup of tea. The package tugged me back toward it.

But I had no time to open it now. I brushed my hands over the silk of my dress, eliminating any tiny wrinkles. We were good together, Alistair and I. “A perfect match,” my father had said.

Much as I liked Alistair, I couldn’t escape the fact that I’d gone out with him that first time to get even with Lindsay. That sat poorly with me. I hated realizing I’d become the very type of woman I’d always despised: a woman like Lindsay.

Tension built in my neck at the mere thought of my father. He’d manipulated me for years. That realization hurt as well, but I had to face it if I was going to have a chance to overcome it.

He’d manipulated me into paying for his lifestyle—using the very money my mother and grandfather never wanted him to have.

I shivered.

But at the same time, even if my father wanted me with Alistair for all the wrong reasons, I did like him. He was the first man to make me laugh, to listen to me and show interest in my pursuits since…

My gaze went back to the package as I lifted the kettle. I winced as a few drops of boiling water splashed onto my fingers. I set the kettle down and rushed my hand under cold tap water, gritting my teeth against the burgeoning sting.

That’s what Nash did—he caused pain. First emotional and now physical. I shut off the water and dried my hands. I picked up the package and marched to the trash bin.

The writing on the side caught my attention again, just as it had each time I’d planned to bin it. Please don’t throw this away. Please, Ay.

And, much smaller, so small that I had to basically press my nose to the paper to read the tiny, messy cursive: Not like I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me. (That’s you.) And please believe me when I tell you I was yelling at Lindsay, not you. I swear this on Lev’s grave.

I gulped. Nothing was more important to Nash than his brother. Maybe me, for a time, but Lev had been his best friend as well as the big brother he’d looked up to. I dropped the box back on the counter, my eyes burning and fingers throbbing.

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