You Own My Heart (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 4)

“Is your legal name Honey Harrison?” Nash practically spat the words at her. Her time was up. There was nothing left but the truth, or at least the part of it she was willing to share.

No. She mouthed the word.

“I didn’t hear you.” His reply was harsh.

“No,” she said clearly.

“What is it?”

She looked at the check in her hands. A check for fifty thousand dollars made out to Arlene Davenport. Huh. Hudson had done his homework but hadn’t dug deep enough. Arlene was an alias she and her mother used the first time they’d run a scam on a man who’d abused his wife and kids so badly, she’d taken off in the night with her children in tow. Honey’s mother said he was a bad man and deserved to be swindled. She didn’t feel guilty about taking his cash and neither should Honey. They’d taken him for all his savings and moved on to the next mark. The next trailer park.

A single solitary tear slid down her cheek as a memory from a long-ago hot Louisiana afternoon flooded her mind. Of a handsome young man who’d come to their trailer, a pink bear in his hands and a friendly smile on his face. Her mother was high or drunk, or both, but even then, she’d been calculating. She ordered Honey into the back bedroom. Winked and told her to be quiet. Honey had been curious, so she’d peeked through a hole in the wall and tried her best to listen in.

The man was tall, well-dressed, his eyes a piercing blue, not unlike her own. He’d asked her mother some questions—things Honey didn’t understand—but he got angry when her mom refused to answer any of them unless he gave her money. When her mom said something about an Angel and a car accident, the man left. He’d tossed the pink bear onto the ratty brown-and-gold-plaid sofa bed, called her mom a lying gold-digger, and Honey never saw him again.

Afterward, her mother told her the man was her brother, that he was mean, and that her father didn’t want her. She’d hugged Honey close, kissed her tears away, and promised her she was all Honey needed.

Honey didn’t believe her about the man—not at first. His eyes had been too kind. She’d claimed the bear as her own and slept with it every night. She told anyone who would listen that her father had given it to her. An outright lie, but by then, she was good at stretching the truth, as her mother called it.

She still was. She cleared her throat and held her head high. “My name is Arlene Davenport.”

Hudson spoke then. “Stay away from my family, or I will have you thrown in jail, and you’ll rot there before I let you out.”

She was going to break down in front of all these people. Dammit. She tried to push aside the pain, afraid it was laid bare as her eyes moved to the man she loved.

Nash’s face was as cold and unforgiving as that of a man who’d been wronged could be. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to get your stuff out of my building. If you’re smart, you’ll leave town. I don’t think too many folks will be as charitable as I’m being. Most would throw you out on your ass right now.”

“But, Nash…” Her voice broke, and for once, she didn’t care that her vulnerability was exposed. She had to make him see. Understand. “Please let me explain.”

He looked at her for a few moments. Long enough to see she’d broken whatever it was they’d shared. When he spoke, his words were clear for all to hear. They sliced through what was left of her heart. It wasn’t a dramatic cut that anyone could see, but it went deep, and it took everything Honey had not to crumple into a heap of silk and tears.

“You are the worst kind of human being there is. You prey on the weak. You lie. You cheat. You steal. You take and give nothing back.” He shook his head. “Nothing about you is real, not even your name. It makes me sick to think I brought you into our lives.”

Every word was like a slash deep into her skin. When he was done talking, she was in shreds. Her heart was destroyed. Her hopes and dreams, all of them gone, and she had nothing to blame but herself. If only she’d been honest with Nash. If only her mother wasn’t right.

There were no fairy tales. At least not for someone like Honey.

Nash turned and disappeared in the crowd, and Hudson followed suit. Neither one looked back. And why should they?

She was nothing to them.

22

“You want a drink?” Hudson stood to the side, watching Nash too closely. He was like a mother hen fluttering around her chicks and it took everything in Nash to keep his cool. No, he didn’t want a fucking drink. He wanted to smash his fists into the wall and break things. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs, and then he wanted to go after Honey or Arlene or whoever the hell she was and shake the truth out of her.

Had it all been a lie?

“Nash?”

Nash didn’t bother to reply. He was pissed. Hell, that was an understatement. He was so far beyond pissed, he’d crossed into new territory. Throw betrayal in there and his mood was as black as the night sky.

He fisted his hands into the front pockets of his dress pants—it was that or he would punch the wall—and turned to face the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the Blackwell home. Out there in the darkness that blanketed the lake, a guy could lose himself. Forget about the shit evening he’d just had. The shit evening they’d all just had. He saw Hudson’s reflection in the window, John and Darlene, and his brother Cam. Wyatt and Travis Blackwell had gone home early with their wives, and for that, Nash was grateful. It was bad enough that Hudson, his father John, and Cam were here. If he’d had his way, he would have hightailed it back to his home, but Hudson had insisted.

He thought of Honey again. Of that sweet mouth and all the lies they’d spouted, and he clenched his teeth so tight, pain radiated along his jaw.

“The way I see it, I can do one of two things.” Nash turned around. “I can get black-out drunk and forget about it, or I can deal with the fallout and then maybe get black-out drunk.” He looked at John. “I’m sorry I brought her into your house.”

Her. He couldn’t even bring himself to say her name.