Page 64 of The Next Lie

I want to hate him but I don’t know how.

That makes me angrier.

Did you know about him? Did you know I had someone? Did they tell you I was safe? Did that make it better or worse?

I hate how many questions I have for you.

I hate that you might actually have answers when I’m still so confused.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

REVA

Eventually I go back inside. Nash is awake when I step into the bedroom.

He is sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, elbows braced on his knees, watching me with eyes that miss nothing. Not the phone in my hand. Not the rubber band marks on my wrist. Not the piece of me I must have left out on that patio.

He does not ask who I called. Maybe he already knows. Maybe he guesses. Maybe the man simply has the decency not to pry before sunrise.

A miracle.

“Training starts in an hour,” he says, glancing at the watch on his wrist.

My mouth twists. “Good morning to you, too.”

His gaze drops to the rubber bands on my wrist, and I tuck my hand behind my back. He lets me have the lie without comment.

“Eat something first,” he says.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat anyway.”

There’s the tyrant. Apparently he survived the night.

I look at him, and for a second, last night moves between us. His hands. His mouth. The sharp sting of his hand against my ass and the way he held me afterward like he could keep the dark out by force of will alone.

Heat climbs my throat. Nash sees that too. His expression shifts, barely.

“Reva.”

“Nope.” I point toward the door. “Food. Violence. Caffeine first; I forgot my coffee.”

One corner of his mouth moves.

“Shiloh should be in the kitchen,” he says. “Ever’s already outside.”

Ever.

The man who took me to the Hart house. The man who promised he would make sure I didn’t dream about closets. The man who walked out last night because Nash’s fury took up too much space and the reason I ended up in Nash’s room instead.

Not instead. That’s not really fair. Nothing about any of this is a line with only one path. Still, guilt moves through me, warm and uncomfortable.

I grab the hoodie tighter around myself. “Great. Breakfast with unresolved tension. My favorite.”

Nash stands, shrugging powerful shoulders. “You chose complicated, little wolf.”

I slant a side eye in his direction. “I chose revenge. Complicated brought its sleeping bag and moved in.”