Page 77 of Wicked Lies

“When you came to the Oasis, you told me you wanted to take off, so here’s your chance.”

“I don’t want to take off. I want to stay with—”

“That’s not possible.” Nick’s matter-of-fact tone chilled her from the inside out.

“Please think about what you’re saying,” she pleaded.

He slammed his hand against the table, and she jumped. “It has to be this way.”

“Right, because the hell with what I want.” Her voice quivered with heartbreak. “Or what I need.”

“My decision has nothing to do with your lying—again.”

“Bullshit,” she spat out.

“I was a fool to think this could work or even dream about having any kind of a normal relationship. My life is too dangerous.”

“I don’t care about that.” She pulled at his arm.

“But I do.”

“I think you’re just taking the easy way out.”

Nick sprang off the couch, then spun around. “Don’t you dare tell me what I think because you have no idea.”

“I think you want me as much as I want you.”

Humiliating silence followed, and when he refused to look at her, refused to react to her words, she lashed out.

“I don’t want or need your money.” She pushed off the couch struggling to scrape up her last ounce of pride. “I’ve taken care of myself in the past, and I’ll do it again.”

“Don’t be stupid, Cheryl.” His voice was rough and unyielding. “Take what I’m giving you.”

Then the truth hit her square between the eyes. Nick didn't give up when he wanted something. He'd told her pretty lies in his bed when it was convenient 'cause it got him off, but when it became too difficult, he bailed.

“You’re right. I am stupid. Stupid to think you were different. Stupid to think we had a future.” She staggered backward, needing distance from him. “I guess all that shit about loving me was the usual thing you say to a woman after screwing her brains out?”

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

It couldn't get any harder. The hope of someone truly loving her disintegrated and broke apart. The misery of having a glimpse of happiness only to have it snatched away was much worse than never having it at all.

* * *

Nick would be hauntedby the pain in Cheryl’s eyes for a long time. She disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared a few minutes later with her duffel bag packed and over her shoulder.

Her eyes flickered over him briefly; then, she headed for the door. He caged her in five large steps with his palm slapped against the door just inches from her head. “Where the fuck you goin’?”

“Away from you,” she said to the door.

He gripped her shoulder and spun her around. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, acting like you care.”

He barked out a rough laugh. “Be a helluva lot easier if I didn’t.”

Her chest rose and fell beneath the thin white tank top, her smooth skin velvet to the touch and sun kissed from their time on the beach. Fuck, if his mouth didn’t water at the mere sight of her.

She bit her lower lip, and he swore to fuck his dick shot against his zipper. Then she squared her shoulders in defiance, and his cock grew to the point of pain.

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