Page 32 of Cash

But his pain was something I couldn’t forget.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I heard footsteps pounding down the stairs. Now was my chance to apologize for being a monumental asshole. I had an excuse—it wasn’t like it was an everyday occurrence that a forty-year-old dude finally learns when his actual birthdate is and not the date that he was found in an alleyway. Or maybe I didn’t have an excuse and I laid into Stella because…what?…I cared about her and felt betrayed?

Fuck.

Penny Cox.

I had a sister.

I was a brother.

I had a name. A birthday. A mother.

Christ. My head was throbbing.

I stopped short of entering the living room when I heard, “Tell Kira it’s unlocked. All my intel’s on there. You already have my handwritten notes and before you threaten me, I’m out. Totally out. I know nothing. I’ve forgotten everything. And you’ll never see or hear my name again. Right here, right now, Lore’s dead.”

Lore’s dead.

My hand came up to my chest. My palm pressed against my heart, which did nothing to quell the pain. Not at her words, but the sound of her voice.

In the time I’d known Lore I’d heard many different tones: snarky, flirty, bitchy, hard, angry, cold. Stella, the same. I’d heard breathy whimpers, groans, growls, grunts, moans of pleasures. But I hadn’t heard her voice flat and dead. Not cold, but arctic.

You’ll never see or hear my name again.

Cold-hearted bitch.

Fuck.

I did that to her.

Not surprising. I ruin everything I touch.

I should apologize. Give her a chance to get her digs in and tell me off.

I deserved it.

“Out?” Zane asked.

“Totally out.”

No inflection. Totally devoid of any emotion.

My feet were rooted. It was better this way. She rightfully hated me. Apologizing would be selfish as fuck. A transfer of burden. I was a royal dick to her and asking her to forgive me would be out of line. She shouldn’t forgive me to assuage my guilt.

I heard the door close and I pressed my palm harder against my chest.

Another door closed.

Another memory I’d lock away, never to revisit.

But something told me this one would be harder than the rest. That Stella’s memory wouldn’t be denied. It wouldn’t matter how deep I tried to bury her, how many locks I put on the box, it would always haunt me.

I heard an engine roar to life and I stepped back into the kitchen before I turned and went out back.

Penny whirled, obviously startled by my hasty arrival on the back porch.