26
Peyton
We’re silent as we sit across the table from one another; each trying to weigh out the other, as if we’re both looking for a weak point.
Sasha’s dark red lips turn up slightly in the corners, an almost imperceptible smirk on her face as she arches an eyebrow. Her eyes never leave mine, both of us locked in this ridiculous staring contest as she reaches for the silver case on the table and draws out a cigarette. She only looks away to light it, the curling tendrils of smoke in stark contrast to her jet-black hair drifting lazily up under the dim glow of the overhead light.
I’m still trying to convince myself that coming here with her, or trusting her for that matter, wasn’t a massive mistake. But, here I am, and as for the second part, what choice do I have?
Because I’m fresh out of options.
Sasha finally rolls her eyes as she blows a trail of smoke from her lips; “OK, this is getting absurd. Let’s just lay it out on the table, shall we?”
I glare at her; “Where were you?”
“My cover was blown, I told you that.”
“And I’m supposed to just believe you?”
A look flashes across her eyes, her usually obnoxiously smirking face suddenly dark and unsmiling; “I’m going to need you to trust me if we’re going to do this, you know. And right now, I can tell that you very much do not.”
Oh, was I that obvious? I grumble inside, saying nothing out loud as I purse my lips tightly together.
“And I think I know why, you know,” She says, that smirk finding its way back to her lips; “It’s Bryce, isn’t it?”
Keep it up, bitch. I narrow my eyes even more at her, feeling my jaw tighten as I burn holes in her face with my pupils.
Sasha rolls her eyes dramatically; “I never slept with your little boyfriend there, you know.”
I want to play it neutral, as if nothing she says can affect me either way, but I can’t hide the sudden look of surprise in my eyes. I know she spots it as she grins; “Yeah, I figured that was it.” She shakes her head, leaning back in her chair and tapping her cigarette ash onto the floor; “Look, not for lack of trying, mind you, but it never happened. We were junkies, we both cared much more about the H than we did about that. I mean, I-” She looks away then, that shadow darting back across her face; “We felt differently about many things,” She says quietly.
Part of me wants to feel bad for her, even if it’s a very, very small part. This woman obviously had feelings for him as well, and even if the thought of her with him makes my blood boil, I’m hardly in a place to judge someone for liking someone they shouldn’t.
“It’s in the past, you need to know that,” She says evenly, her eyes locked on mine; “That went away with my addictions.”
I nod, still silent, and still skeptical, even if she is baring it all here to me.
“Being one of - what, two women I believe there were - in a mercenary unit is challenging, to say the least. Rude jokes turned to ruder gestures and then even ruder attempts. But Bryce was always the one to step in; always the one to step between the weak or outnumbered and the bullies and the predators. Even when he was in his lowest point, mind you; even when it was doubtful that anything else in the world but the smack mattered to him.”
She looks at me sharply; “Finding someone in this world who cares, someone who actually gives a shit about more than just keeping their own head above the water is a rarity, Peyton. But, I’m betting someone like yourself already knows that.”
I look away, stubbornly not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing how right I know she is.
Sasha laughs; “Look, would it help if I mentioned that I haven’t dated men in four years?”
I jerk my gaze to hers, arching an eyebrow, and she laughs; “You can relax, darling. I’d have more of an interest in sleeping with you then your boyfriend these days, if you weren’t such a cold fucking bitch all the time.”
She grins at me, and I can’t stop my own lips from curling up at the corners; “Sorry.”
“Don’t be, I’d do the same in your position. Bryce is a…a complex man, but he’s one of the good ones, and you obviously care very much for him.”
“It’s-” I shake my head; “It’s complicated I guess.”
“Oh it always is, darling; it always is. Welcome to the world.”
I snort a laugh and blush as I look away. I don’t “open up” like this even with people I know, let alone relative strangers like Sasha. But it feels good; it feels good to let the guard down.
“So does this mean you’re willing to hear me out and maybe throw a little trust my way?”