Page 67 of The Killer Card

“Aye Dios mío…”

Chapter Twenty-One

Graham

"I can’t fucking believe you told them!” Naomi shouts, slamming her way into the empty cabin.

Everyone is still at the welcome party which has moved on to a brewery a few miles up the road for games and what is bound to be far too many drinks. It’s not the same place Rowan and I took Elias to last night, there really are a shit ton of craft beer gurus in Vermont.

I could not be more thrilled to not be there though. Getting away from Poppy was a bitch and a half without putting more drinks in her system. As it was she managed to get a decent amount of questions with utterly no room for answers. There was a lot of how?!

When?!

For how long?!

Were you two serious?!

Why did you never tell me?!

How did Clara know and not me?!

Thank fuck for Elias, because if he hadn’t stepped in when he did, I can only imagine the ass chewing Naomi and I were about to receive from the bride. I think he mentioned something about them doing karaoke, which he will dominate at of course, but Rowan? My ears have been through enough.

Then again, the pounding they’re about to get from the woman in front of me seems far worse.

I loosen my tie as I follow her, leaving the slider open to let in the evening breeze. “What was I supposed to tell them?!” I demand, tossing my jacket over the back of the couch. She huffs, storming toward her room, plucking the pearls from her ears. “They’re my best fucking friends! I owe Elias thousands of dollars in bail money, I can’t keep lying to the man on top of that—”

“You didn’t even ask me if I was okay with everyone knowing!” She storms back down the hall, jabbing a finger in my chest. “You were selfish! You were guilty and—”

“Of course I was fucking guilty! I’ve been guilty about you for years—”

“That’s your fucking problem then,” she waves me off, storming back down the hall.

“You should be guilty too!” She scoffs. “Rowan and Clara already knew, and it was killing them not to tell anyone, but they didn’t because you asked them not to! Not me! You know I would have been shouting my feelings for you from the fucking rafters if you’d allowed it—”

“Oh, don’t you fucking go there—”

“Go where?!” I demand, taking a step toward the hall. “To when you silenced me?! When you left me begging you in Lightning Cove?! Twice—”

“I had responsibilities, Graham—”

"And I didn’t!” I remind her. “I had nothing and was willing to follow you to the ends of the fucking Earth and you shut me down! Now here we are! Two fucking years later and you’re pissed that I couldn’t take it anymore?! Fuck you, Naomi!”

“Excuse me?!” She appears in her doorway, still clad in her dress and heels just with a few less baubles.

“You fucking heard me,” I wave her off, turning away. “Everyone already knew anyway! Rowan, Clara, Cristian! If that kid gives me one more fucking look—”

“You’ll what?!” She seethes coming down the hall. “Beat him to death?”

I turn on her with a glare. “Fuck. Y—”

Her hand cracks across my face before I can finish, leaving me stunned, rapidly blinking away the sting. I’m still in shock when she grabs hold of my cheeks and in a tone I haven’t heard in years growls, “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

She releases me and with a snap of her fingers points to the floor.

My response is immediate. I drop to my knees so fast I have to bite back a hiss of pain when they crack against the wood floors. It’s like no time has passed, like it's another night in The Cellar, just another scene. I can still feel her palm against my cheek, and it almost brings tears to my eyes- fucking tears- because she’s never struck me in the face before. She’s hit me plenty of times, but never where it would leave a mark, and never in a way that I didn’t ask for.

I don’t dare look up. My spine is straight, my hands turned up on my thighs in supplication. I’m hardly breathing, waiting for her to do something. Anything—