“Got any whiskey?” The words came out in a growl.
My little brother paused for a moment to scan my expression. “I got a bottle of Jack in the back of the truck.”
I turned and headed for his rented Silverado. He was right with me. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Reaching in the bed, I pushed aside a blanket thrown over a cooler. Unzipping it, I pulled out a bottle of caramel liquid. It was about three-quarters full. It would do. Heading for the house, Patrick called after me.
“Sure, you can have my Jack. You don’t even have to ask.”
“Thanks.” I snarled over my shoulder. I’d deal with him later.
“Derek called. He’s taking the red-eye. Should be here in the morning.”
A houseguest I didn’t mind visiting. The thought only glanced off the wall of anger building in my mind. Nikki’s words clicked together like pieces to a puzzle, and I had my answer.
* * *
Three hours later it was dark and I was wasted. I’d holed up in my bedroom with the bottle of Jack and proceeded to drown my anger in booze. Yes. It was anger I was drowning. Nothing else. So why the fuck did I still feel like a knife was stuck in my chest?
She saw me that day at the gym when I was at my worst and decided I was an easy mark, a well-dressed drug-addict who only needed a little coaxing to fall into her clutches—or between her thighs. Nikki was right. She’d conned the pants off me, and like a first-class sucker, I fell for it hook line and pussy.
I could still see her innocent act, all dewy eyes and trembling hands. A virgin, my ass. No virgin gave a blowjob like that. She’d rubbed those expert hands all over my body, seduced me, and now she was waiting for me to cave. She’d never have to worry about being alone or her future again. I couldn’t believe how close I’d come to pissing away all my plans for her.
Glancing at the clock, I saw it was after eleven. My uncle had gone to his room an hour ago followed shortly by my mother. I knew they were all probably asleep. Except maybe my brother and Elaine. Those two were fucking rabbits.
Staggering to my feet, I threw the bottle across the room and headed for the door. I was getting to the bottom of this bullshit, and I was doing it now.
Mariska’s room was dark. Her door wasn’t even locked when I turned the knob and walked in. Standing, I waited a moment, listening to her breathe. That fucking familiar sound twisted the knife a little harder in my chest. She stirred and made a noise, and the knife ripped from my chest to my stomach. The emotions pissed me off. I’d seriously fallen for her.
“Stuart?” She switched on the lamp beside the bed and sat up.
Her brown ha
ir fell in a gentle wave across her face, and she wore only a thin white cami. I could see her nipples through the fabric, and my dick stirred. Dammit.
“What are you doing?” She looked at her clock. “It’s almost midnight.”
“I need to talk to you.” My voice was like sandpaper.
Her expression changed. Her brow relaxed, and her eyes warmed. I was pretty sure she wasn’t expecting what I had to say.
She stood and her fucking beautiful legs were exposed all the way to the white lace panties she wore. “You weren’t at dinner. Do you feel bad? Is it your back?”
“I’m feeling like I’m ready for the truth.”
Her thin brows clutched together. “The truth about what?”
“Why you came here.”
Silence filled the room. Her hazel eyes went round, and I saw it then. She knew that I knew. That fucking knife twisted again. Nikki had told me the truth.
“Elaine invited me—”
“Cut the bullshit.” My voice was louder. “You didn’t even know Elaine before you met her at the airport.”
Her bottom lip pulled under her teeth, and she blinked fast like she might cry. It wasn’t going to work.