Page 34 of Dirty Gambit

One eyebrow lifted. “Some buddy.”

Jaxon snorted. “Right? Turns out, he was sleeping with my now ex-girlfriend, so I guess maybe it was some kind of sign.”

Both eyebrows jumped up.

The revelation surprised even him. He hadn’t meant to tell her any of those things. He wasn’t even sure why he had, yet, it sat in the semidarkness of that moldy little loft, collecting silence like a bug catcher catching flies.

“How did you find out?” she asked quietly.

He cleared his throat and forced himself into an upright position to match hers. “She told me over dinner on our first anniversary. Turns out they’d been seeing each other for nearly six months.”

Lena hissed through her teeth. “Ouch.”

Jaxon nodded. “Yup, wasn’t too happy about that, but they’re married now and happy. They have a couple of kids, two girls, I think, so…”

“How long ago was it?”

He did the math, not really having thought about Chrissy and Lionel in years.

“Five years?” he guessed at last.

“You don’t remember?” There was a laugh in her voice that made him wince. “The girl cheats on you with your best friend, you’d think you’d remember something like that.”

“I never said he was my best friend,” he amended. “But I guess she didn’t really mean as much to me as I’d originally thought. It had hurt my ego more than anything and eventually, I just kind of…”

“Got over it,” she finished for him. “I can understand that. It sucks, but what can you do?”

“Blow up his car,” he blurted without thinking. “That had been my first thought.”

Lena laughed, that bubbling cascade of delight he honestly didn’t think she did enough.

“I knew a guy who found out his girl was cheating and set her bed on fire while she was sleeping.”

“Jesus!” he cried, horrified.

“She got out,” she added quickly. “He got sent to prison for ten years or something for attempted murder and arson.”

“What kind of people do you know?” he exclaimed.

It was her turn to grimace. “Not many good ones,” she admitted. “Foster care tends to bring out the worst in people.”

“You were a foster kid?”

She shrugged even as her head bobbed slowly. “For thirteen long years.”

“Where are your parents?”

Again, one shoulder lifted. “Couldn’t tell you. Probably lost in some drug-induced hue.” She broke off a long moment, eyes fixed on a spot between them. When she did look up, her gaze was focused, but shrouded in something dark and unforgiving. “I’m so sorry about before with the water. I want to say I wish I hadn’t done it, but…” she sighed and lowered her chin again. “I don’t condone drugs. I hate the stuff. It ruined so many lives. Giving it to you without telling you … you will never hate me more than I hate myself for it.” She bit her bottom lip and peered up at him. “It wasn’t right.”

“It wasn’t.” He agreed, but kept a leash on the rest of his lecture, knowing he had a very small window to keep her talking and only a limited number of questions before she shut down. “Where did you grow up?”

“Here. There. Everywhere,” she mumbled. “We never stayed anywhere too long. Someone was always looking for our parents so we had to keep moving.”

“Do you have siblings?”

She started to nod but stopped and he knew his time had come to an end. Her expression closed up and she narrowed her eyes at him as if he’d somehow tricked her into talking.

“Go to sleep,” she snapped at him. “I don’t want you complaining tomorrow that you’re tired and sore.”

---