Page 29 of Craving Oblivion

“I know you don’t trust me, and I understand why, but please, let me do this for you. Alistair’s recovered from the shock and your father…” Lindsay grimaced. “He’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. And that’s saying something, because I grew up with a terrible asshole.”

My lips twitched. Lindsay opened the door, and after another second’s hesitation, I slid into the luxurious interior. I looked up, shock reverberating through my body as Lindsay gripped my burned, torn fingers.

“Thank you. I know you didn’t tell Alistair no for me, and I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but still…thank you.”

“You love him,” I said, shaking my head. I hadn’t thought Lindsay capable of real feeling.

She laughed as she blinked back tears. “Since I was seven. Isn’t that ridiculous? And yes, I know that makes me an even bigger dick for crushing on Nash and being willing to take him to bed all those years ago. You need to know we never slept together—I never touched Nash again after Hugh’s party, because he didn’t want me to.”

I remained quiet, processing. I’d ended up in a vehicle with Lindsay Herrington-Smythe, my teenage nemesis.

As if she could read my thoughts, she said, “High school was a destructive time for me. My parents’ divorce had upended my life. Alistair and I had always been close, and suddenly, I wasn’t able to see him. I was furious and devastated. I had sex with boys I didn’t care about and who didn’t care about me. I lashed out at you. At everyone, really.” She dropped her gaze. “It’s not an excuse. I know I was wrong. And so mean. When I learned Alistair was interested in you, I assumed it was my penance, but seeing you two together…”

Her lower lip wobbled as she raised her gaze. “I love him, and losing him devastated me. But even saying that doesn’t encompass what you and Nash had. If I hadn’t been so selfish, so willing to make others hurt just because I did, I would have realized that.”

I extricated my aching fingers and gave my hand a shake.

Lindsay zeroed in on the bracelet. She narrowed her eyes, but then gave a tiny nod. “Did you know Nash went straight from Vegas to a three-month rehabilitation program?” she asked.

My stomach clenched. “I heard. From Cam Grace’s wife. She was at The Children’s Ball.”

“Mmm. I was there—in Vegas.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Do I want to know?”

Her smile turned rueful. “Nash hates me more than you ever could.” She hesitated but then clamped her lips shut and shook her head.

“Tell me the rest,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow at my tone. “Steve asked me to visit. I hoped Nash would come after you, sweep you off your feet—”

“And you’d collect Alistair,” I finished.

She shrugged. “That would have been ideal.”

I clutched my purse in my lap. “Where are we going?”

“Do you have your passport?”

“I do,” I said. I never left my flat without it—another way to ensure independence from my father.

Lindsay leaned in, her blue eyes wide with a fire that used to mean she planned to rip some poor girl’s self-esteem to tatters. But this seemed more tempered. Maybe I was searching for humanity where there was none. Or maybe Lindsay meant what she’d said.

I couldn’t be sure.

“What’s left for you here, Aya?” she asked. There was a softness to her voice I’d never heard before. “Do you even like England?”

No, I don’t. This place had never felt like home. The last home I’d had was Austin—not just because of my relationship with Nash, but its small-town charm and big-city amenities. The place was flush with STEM jobs and ideas. The lakes and bike trails begged to be used, and the summers were hot and sunny—perfect for outdoor activities, unlike the constant gray drizzle I’d survived here.

But that wasn’t the point. I missed Austin, but my life was here.

Wasn’t it? Did I even have a life?

Lindsay was tempting me. I narrowed my eyes. “Ah. With me gone, you plan to have Alistair marry you—for your inheritance. I guess that means he’s the clichéd impoverished nobleman seeking an heiress.”

Lindsay tossed her head, the proud, obnoxious girl I’d known back in full force. “That is my plan, yes. One my father wants with more desperation than I do—the one thing we have in common. For the record, I didn’t care about Alistair’s financials until he passed me over. But yes, I’ll still marry him. Once I get him to ask me. I do think he cared for you, so his wounds are going to smart.”

I raised an eyebrow. “His pride, you mean.”

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