Twisted(92)

“I’m not anyone’s child, problem or otherwise.” Nick strode out of the room and slammed the door, causing Lila’s lips to twitch.

The instant he was gone, however, her polite mask fell away. “How deep are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t fucking play games with me, Duffy. Jazz called and told me what Snake was insinuating. Poor girl’s still naïve enough to believe he’s just trying to start trouble for Oblivion, but we know better, don’t we?”

At Gray’s silence, she stood and loomed over the bed like a vicious angel of mercy. “I don’t like nasty surprises, and you’ve already given me too many of them. She’ll be back in a few minutes from the store. Either you tell me now or you tell me in front of your little sweetheart, but rest assured, your secrets will be mine.”

He coughed and directed his attention at the window. Dawn was breaking in the distance, casting a milky grayish pall over the room. He must’ve slept the night away.

And this question wasn’t going to get any easier if he put it off.

Swallowing hard, he darted a glance at the closed door. “It’s not a big deal,” he began.

“My husband has been addicted to OxyContin for seven years. He’s what you call a functional drug user. That’s what he calls it. I don’t believe such a thing exists.”

“You have a husband?” He’d never really thought much about her personal life, but she wasn’t much older than they were. Not that they weren’t old enough to be married. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“When did you get married?”

“Seven years ago.” She tapped her flawless French manicure on her iPad. “Now if we can—”

“Wait, you married your husband even though he was a druggie?”

“It happens. Jazz would marry you, and you qualify.”

He flushed and hated himself for it. “She doesn’t see me that way.”

“No, her rose-coloreds are pretty much welded to her face. There’s also a part of her that gets off on saving the bad boy. She’s not nearly as innocent as you’ve convinced yourself. Otherwise she wouldn’t have snuck over here to seduce you the same day I told her to steer clear.”

“Water?” Gray croaked.

Sighing, she plucked a cup off the nightstand. He drained the mug and handed it back then threw his arm over his face, earning a stitch in his bruised ribs for his trouble. That fucker Snake had hands like ham hocks.

“I owe some people some money,” he said finally, once it became obvious that Lila would wait until the end of time for him to come clean.

He’d emptied his savings and given the cash to Cricket as a down payment on the half he’d promised to get them in short order. She’d seemed pleased, and he hadn’t gotten any threatening phone calls since.

He’d also kept Jazz at his side every moment that he could.

“How much money?”

He named a ballpark estimate of his remaining debt and Lila hissed out a breath. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want to get hurt?”

“I’ve got it under control.”

“You’re not seriously going to sit—I’m sorry, lay—there and tell me you’re handling this. If Snake knows the kind of company you keep, so do other people. That’s not even mentioning your dealer. How long before she contacts a tabloid and sells the story to make up for all the cash you’re not giving her? And that’s if they don’t extract their payment from your flesh first.” She shoved his leg. “Or worse, your hands. They might not heal correctly. And what about Jazz? Are you ready for her to have to watch her back every time she walks out the door? Like right now. She’s parked at some corner drugstore, blithely picking up some Tylenol, and someone could be waiting outside, about to pounce—”

“Stop it.” Gray shot upright in bed and fisted his hands in his hair. “Don’t fucking do this to me.”

He’d already been having nightmares about that very possibility. The only thing that made them go away was turning to Jazz in the night and draining all of his fear into making love to her, over and over. Reassuring himself that his beautiful girl was whole and strong and his, and no one would ever hurt her again.

Least of all him.

“I didn’t do it. You did it.” Lila dropped down on the bed and flicked her finger across her iPad screen before turning the tablet toward him. Jazz beamed out of the photo, her eyes brighter than the sky on a summer day. Smile blinding. “Look at her and tell me you could live with yourself if she paid the price for your sins.”