Pure Sin (Privilege 5)

You shouldn’t have bailed on her, she thought, clenching her jaw. If you were going to feel so guilty about it, you shouldn’t have deserted her, locked in your car.

Stealing herself, Ariana walked through the lobby and over to his table. She had to keep reminding herself that Conrad was not a villain in all of this. He didn’t know how to handle the new Lexa any better than anyone else. All he needed was a little help.

A little guidance. Maybe, in fact, a bit of guilt. And Ariana was going to be the one to help him feel it.

“Hey,” she said, pausing behind the wire-backed chair across from his. “How’s it going?”

Conrad’s eyes flicked over her face. “It’s going.” He returned his attention to the page.

“Mind if I sit?” Ariana asked. She didn’t wait for a reply. “So much for being a stand-up guy,” she said.

Conrad sighed and closed his book, dog-earring his page as he laid it flat on the table.

“I guess you talked to Lexa,” he said derisively. “Oh wait, you couldn’t have, because she’s frickin’ out of her skull.”

“Conrad,” Ariana said, gripping the marble tabletop with both hands as she glanced around at the other occupied tables. “Please.”

“Why keep my voice down? Everyone knows it, Ana,” Conrad said, lowering his voice nonetheless as he leaned forward. “The girl is in need of some serious drugs.”

Which she’s already getting, Ariana thought.

“No, she’s not. She’s just going through a tough time,” Ariana said.

Conrad sighed. He leaned back heavily in his chair and shook his head, as if Ariana was saying exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Ariana’s blood started to boil with impatience. Maybe he was the villain.

“What, exactly, happened last night?” she asked.

“We went out to this restaurant that I knew would serve us wine. You know, because of all that stuff the other night about her becoming a red wine girl and all that?” he said. Ariana nodded and he leaned forward again, resting his forearms against the edge of the table like a well-mannered gentleman. “So I picked out a great bottle, and we ordered our food, and everything was fine. But ten minutes into the meal I knocked over her wine glass by mistake, and she went completely off the reservation.”

Ariana swallowed hard. Spilled wine. Like spilled blood. That’s what had done it. It wasn’t much of a leap to make when one knew the whole story.

“She starts wringing her hands together and talking about how it’s never gonna come out,” Conrad said, speaking more rapidly as the story tumbled forth. “So I’m telling her it’s just a tablecloth and who cares and they’ll get us a new one, but that just seems to rile her up until she’s screaming. ‘I can’t get it out! I can’t get it out!’ It was a total scene. We got thrown out of the damn place.”

“God, Conrad. I’m so sorry. That must have been awful,” Ariana said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. He had no idea how much worse it could have been. No idea the level of crap she had endured for the past two years—the sort of awful, humiliating episodes she’d had to live through thanks to Reed and Thomas and Kaitlynn.

Her fingers clenched under the table as the photo of Reed from the paper, happy, athletic Reed—the only one of the three who was still alive—flashed through her mind. She shoved it away. It was not about Reed right now.

“Yeah! It was!” he replied indignantly.

“Now how about you think for two seconds about how Lexa felt?” Ariana shot back.

Conrad stared at her. He picked at his linen napkin on the table absently. “What do you mean?”

“Obviously she’s going through something, Conrad. Otherwise she never would have acted that way,” Ariana said, leaning back and crossing her slim arms over her chest. “You know Lexa. She’s the most polite, well-spoken, self-aware person we know. Obviously something has to be seriously wrong for her to do something like that. But instead of trying to understand, instead of trying to talk to her and take care of her like a boyfriend should, you left her locked in your car in the parking lot.”

Ariana’s hands curled together in her lap again. Her fingernails cut into her fleshy palms.

“Wait, she was locked in?” Conrad said, a smidgen of concern crossing his face for the first time. “I didn’t know. I must’ve hit the button by mistake.”

“Either way. Do you really think that was the right thing to do? To just leave her there like that?” Ariana asked him.

Conrad blinked. He looked down at his cooling coffee. “No. I guess not. But still. You didn’t see her. I—”

“I did see her,” Ariana interrupted. “I’m the one who got her out of the car. I’m the one who helped her inside and up to bed and made sure she was all right—all things you should have been doing if you had a single chivalrous bone in your body.”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel,” Conrad said, trying for a light tone, but looking stricken.

“I think I have,” Ariana replied, rising from her chair. “I suggest you stick by your girlfriend. Give her a second chance. Otherwise I’m not sure your conscience will ever forgive you.”