“Go away!” I twirled around, facing Brody, and hating that my traitorous heart didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to hate him, I wanted to hurt him, but I couldn’t deny how he made me feel.
“Please, just let me explain,” Brody said, holding his hands up.
“Explain?” I asked, flattening my lips into a straight line. “Explain how you’re a DEA agent undercover?”
“What, how did—”
“Your son filled me in while he was waiting for you.” I couldn't believe those words had just come out of my mouth.
“I—”
“I have nothing to say to you, Brody.” I shook my head, my gaze flicking over to the car that was pulled to the side of the road. It was so different from the one he used back home. It was shiny and looked like some kind of sports car.
“You don’t have to talk, just listen,” his deep voice told me as he stepped forward.
“No.” I held up my hand, trying to stop his momentum. He looked different here. He wasn’t dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt, but dress pants and a shirt with a badge and gun on his belt. A badge. “Were you using me this whole time?” I hated how small my voice sounded.
“What?” He shook his head. “No, Lola, you need to let me explain.”
“What is there to explain?” I moved back, putting more distance between us. “You’re a liar, Brody. And there’s nothing I hate more than liars.” I stared into his eyes. “Go home to your wife, Brody.”
I didn’t give him the chance to answer me. Instead, I spun around and sprinted down the street, my legs pumping all the way to the station entrance.
I took one look back when I was about to turn, and he was still standing in the same position, staring at the space I’d been standing in. I wouldn’t let myself wonder what that meant because he wasn’t real.
Not to me, anyway.
* * *
LOLA
My head was fuzzy, my body aching, and my stomach rolling.
I’d only managed to get a couple of hours’ sleep last night, and it wasn’t because of the raging party happening on the floor below mine, but thanks to my warring emotions.
I imagined time and time again that I listened to Brody after my shift and let him explain. Each time I envisioned it, he had a different excuse. I’m not really married. I’m divorced. I’m separated. But every one ended with his arms wrapped around me and my head against his chest.
I hated my imagination sometimes. It was torturing me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was just that, though—my imagination. None of that had happened because there was nothing he could explain. He’d been undercover. He had a wife and son. What was there left to explain? How he used me to most likely bring Hut down? How he had probably thought getting closer to me would be the answer. He’d been delusional because it had backfired big-time.
Birds chirped outside my window, singing their songs, and the morning sun streamed throughout my room. I hadn’t even closed my blinds last night when I got home. All I had wanted was to curl up in a ball on my bed and sleep.
Fat chance of that happening.
My stomach churned as his face flashed in my mind again, but it was Moira and Cade standing next to him that had me heaving. I leaped out of my bed and ran to the bathroom, bringing back up the water I’d drunk when I got home. My stomach was empty, and it burned its way through me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Why? Why had he done this? Was I some game to him?
The burned side of me wanted to march downstairs and tell Hut exactly what had happened. Tell him everything I knew, and everything I’d found out. But something stopped me. Something told me not to risk it. I still had a plan—nine days, and I’d be out of here. Would it be so bad if Hut wasn’t around anymore?
Groaning, I stood to brush my teeth. Determined to start a new, fresh day, I then jumped into the shower. I could put it all behind me, pretend I’d never met Brody and stick to my plan. I wouldn’t allow someone to derail everything, not when I was this close to being out of here.
By the time I stepped out of the shower, I had a renewed energy and determination. And then I went back into my room and remembered what we’d done in here just over a week ago. How he’d touched me. How he’d spoken to me. He’d shown me what I’d meant to him—at least, I thought he had.
Just another lie.
I had too many thoughts roaming around in my head, and nothing I did seemed to sort through them. I was up and down, feeling like I was riding a roller coaster. I couldn’t get ahold of them or make sense. One moment I was determined, the next defeated.
The lock on my door clicked into place, shutting myself away from the rest of the world. One day. I’d give myself one day to sort through this mess in my brain and then I’d get back on track, about to start my new life. It was no longer before and after Hut, but before and after Brody—was that even his real name? It couldn’t have been, not if he was undercover.