Page 90 of A Villain’s Lies

“Do you feel bad at all for what you did to her?” I ask.

Grayson’s expression doesn’t change at the mention of her. “No,” he says coldly.

“What if that were me? Would you feel bad if I was killed instead?”

His hands grip the steering wheel harder. “What type of question is that? You weren’t in that situation because I would not allow you to be in that situation, to begin with.”

“But I easily could have been,” I tell him. “With the police… Because of you,” I remind him.

“And I made that situation go away. No one will ever fucking hurt you again while I am here.”

“What happens if I don’t want you here, Grayson?” We come to a stop, and he looks at me.

“You don’t want me around?” he questions, and I know he sees right through me.

I look away as I answer him, “I don’t know right now. I left for a reason. And I assumed it would be better after I did. But it’s the only place I have ever regretted leaving. I enjoyed my job at your club. I even liked my house.”

“It’s all still yours. Everything. The house, the job. I want you to come home with me and take it all back. I’m sure Monica will be happy to see you again.”

I smile at the thought of Monica—it’s been so long since I’ve seen her—and I enjoyed our friendship. It was one of the first real ones I’ve had.

“That’s a big offer. But I have a life here.”

He starts driving again and goes through a drive-thru. After ordering for both of us, the lady stares at his shirtless torso as she passes him the food. He drives off and, without even looking at me, whispers, “No need to give her a death stare.”

“I wasn’t.” I huff, looking away as he places the food on my lap and then drives back to my place. When we get there, he stays in the car.

“Are you coming in?”

“You asked me to leave,” he points out.

“Yeah, well… My head’s a fucking mess. Come and eat with me.”

Grayson gets out, then takes the food from me and carries it inside. We sit on the couch, and he hands me my burger.

“I want to say thank you.”

“For?” he asks.

“For doing what you did. It took a bit, but I feel…” I smile, my eyes stinging with unshed tears I don’t want to fall, “free. I’ve never felt free before. It always felt like no matter what it did, he would find me. Now I know it’ll never happen. Because he doesn’t breathe any longer, and that’s thanks to you.”

He goes to speak, but I hold up my hand.

“Why did you do that?” I tentatively ask as I search his face.

“Because I hate what he did to you.”

“But you have killed people before.”

“And?”

“And what? What does it matter what he did?”

“Because he did it to you, and I love you…” His words make him pause.

My heart stutters as his eyes find mine, and he looks away, reaching for his burger.

Like he didn’t just drop a bomb in front of me.

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