Page 83 of Master of Lies

“Bummer for me,” I said. “I just have to swallow the pill, and I can’t pretend to enjoy it. So leave me to it and get gone.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Couple of hours, tops. Back before sunrise.”

I laughed, bitterly. “Right. I’ve heard that song before.”

He went still, blocking me against the door. “What do you mean? What song?”

I slapped at him angrily, wishing I hadn’t touched that button. “Never mind,” I mumbled. “Forget I said it.”

“No,” he said. “Tell me.”

Oh, crap. There was no distracting him now. I could tell from his energy that he was going to hang on to this like a pit bull until I gave him what he wanted.

“Just me, carrying on about my trauma again,” I said. “Alas, poor me.”

“Skip the sarcasm. What trauma? About being left? About what happened at your aunt’s house?”

I threw up my hands. “Everyone always says they’ll be right back,” I said. “Shane said that to Holly before the Ready Line massacre. Shane and Ethan said that to me before they were carted off to the reformatory. Mom and Dad said it before the blues festival. They all meant well, and you do, too, but it doesn’t mean shit. No one can predict what’ll happen. So just don’t say it at all. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He jerked me closer, cupping the back of my head with his hand. “I’m in trouble, then, Frey. Because all I want in this world is to make promises to you.”

I inhaled to speak, but my reply was trapped against his hot, sweet kiss.

CHAPTER28

Jed

Every time I kissed her, that raging hunger possessed me. To know her, to understand her, to “get” her. And this time, to comfort her, even though it was the last goddamn thing I knew how to do.

I lifted my head, panting for breath, and the words just burst out of me. “I know how it feels.”

“How what feels?” Her voice quavered.

“Being left,” I said. “I get it. I do.”

In the dimness, he could just barely make out her eyes. Her expression, the little crease of perplexity between her finely shaped dark eyebrows.

She threw up her hands. “Well, yes,” she said, a little impatiently. “You were an orphan, like us, right? That was one of the things you and Shane and Ethan bonded over, back in your Army days.”

“Yeah,” I told her. “Did Shane ever tell you about my parents?”

“You told me about your dad,” she said. “That he died in that accident when you were ten. I don’t know anything about your mom, other than that she died when you were in high school.”

“She left me a long time before that,” I said. “To all intents and purposes.”

“Ah.” Her voice was low and careful. “And how is that?”

“Booze, mostly, but not only. The last few years, I supported us with the money I made working after school and weekends. It took her about seven years to kill herself, after Dad’s accident. It’s like, she couldn’t be outdone by him. When she finally did herself in, I sold the trailer and her old beater car. I used the money to cremate her. Then I went straight to the recruitment center, and enlisted.”

She looked as if she was waiting for more. “And?” she prompted.

I felt needled. “What do you mean, ‘and?’ That’s not enough for you?”

“That’s dry bones, Jed,” she said gently. “Nothing about you.”

Well, fuck me. “Whoa, sorry I’m not juicier,” I snarled. “I don’t give a shit about entertaining anyone. I choose not to think about it. That’s my coping style.”

“I understand,” she said. “I’ve made extensive use of that coping style myself over the years. But what I don’t understand is why you told me at all. Because this information does not help me. I don’t know what to do with it.”

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