Page 8 of Papers Don't Lie

Pleased with my small outburst and sudden decision to ask for more than I already got, I turn my back to him and tuck the pillow between my head and my arm, loving how the soft pajamas Kendrick brought me feel on my skin.

I close my eyes, knowing I need some rest, but all I get in return is a major headache and lightning-speed thoughts.

The fact that I ran from my own wedding that had been planned for ages still hasn’t settled as reality to me. It’s like I’ve imagined it, and the next time I wake up, I’ll be next tohim. My heart pounds in my chest, and I squint my eyes open to make sure I’m still in a hotel room with Kendrick and sigh in relief when I recognize the sheets.

Try to get some sleep.

Typical for the way my brain works. As soon as I close my eyes, my mind wanders away once again to a time that now seems so long ago.

When I was little, I was the one who always had something to say when Mom or Dad made us do something, while my sisters never uttered a word. I had a smart mouth, and if I tried to ease that down, it only got worse. Every time that happened, I was punished, and it took my parents a while to understand that the punishments would only stop me from talking back for a few days. So instead of doing something to me, they threatened that they’d punish my sisters.

I can’t lie, it was efficient, because after that happened, I did nothing else but protect my sisters. I was still punished, but they weren’t.

Maybe that’s why I’m so surprised that I dared to step out of their world, and for the first time in my life make a decision that didn’t belong to them. I didn’t think about my parents; I didn’t think about my sisters or Carter. The only person I thought about was myself.

I was selfish, and I don’t know how to feel about that just yet.

FOUR

ESMERAY

When the housekeeper came this morning, I couldn’t not help her. I’m a stress cleaner, and for some reason, Mr. Graves’s arrival really stresses me.

I know he’ll come, no matter how groundless my threat is. While he ran me over with his car, he also paid for the hospitalization, and more than he needed to, so in reality, I don’t have any real reason to sue him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t.

Being sued, no matter if the reason is baseless, won’t do any good to his reputation. Even the threat should make him come and convince me not to do it.

A knock on the door wipes my thoughts out, and I catch my breath in my chest, gliding a hand from the top of my head to the ends of my hair to make sure I look presentable before I rush to open it.

I stop next to the door, counting to ten before I let him in so it doesn’t seem as if I’m excited to meet him. Because I’m not. I put on a serious face, push the doorknob down, and bite my tongue when my eyes land on the man standing in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone more bitter than I intended.

“Mr. Graves couldn’t make it, but he asked me to give you this.” Kendrick stretches his hand toward me, handing me a white envelope.

Reluctance floods my veins as I take the white paper in my palm, glancing from it back to Kendrick, who’s keeping himself still as a statue. I squint my eyes at him, but he’s still unmoving.

“Is this Mr. Graves?” I raise a brow, pushing the envelope towards him slightly and inspecting it.

Kendrick frowns, his eyes bulging out of his head. If he thinks I’m crazy, he’s not hiding it. “No.”

I nod and turn around, walking back to the living room and leaving the door open so Kendrick can follow me inside. He does, his footsteps echoing in the large room.

“Then I’m not interested. He should be here, not a stack of money I didn’t ask for.” I flick the envelope between my fingers, guessing what’s inside by the thickness of it.

For a few seconds, Kendrick is silent, not uttering any word, and when I whirl on my toes to look at him, his mouth is slightly agape. His lips close and open a few times until he finally reinvigorates himself and manages to form an answer.

He’s shocked.

I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun.

While I’m laughing on the inside at his reaction, I try to hold on to a stern expression instead, hoping he can’t see the quiver in my lips from how hard I’m struggling to not let a laugh out.

“Mr. Graves is sending his regrets for not being able to make it and also his appreciation for your decision of not suing him,” he says, his steps following close behind.

I scoff, opening the envelope, and I’m not at all surprised to find it’s filled with money. “What do you mean by appreciation for not suing him? I haven’t decided that yet, and this”—I gesture at the paper in my hands—"is only making me sure heneeds to learn a damn lesson. If I could be bought, I would be married already!”

Finding a reason for my reaction is like looking for a needle in a haystack. I have so many reasons to lose my temper, and since I can’t really act on those, Kai Graves is the only one I can throw my bitchy attitude at. Not that what he did is a trivial thing; quite the contrary. That’s exactly why I’m challenging everything that happened in the last few years and dropping it right on top of him. He’s just a collateral victim, and oh, how he deserves it.

---