Page 45 of Wasted Lust

“Sasha,” Jax whispers.

“Sorry.” I seriously don’t know what just came over me.

“I see the reports are true,” Madeline says.

“What reports?” I snap.

“Your reputation precedes you, niece.”

I sigh heavily. Annoyingly, in fact. “Well, it was great to meet you, but Jax and I were in the middle of having fun before we pulled up here. So”—I turn and look up at a stunned Jax—”can we go now?”

“I’d like to have a few words, Sasha. Explain what it is we do here. What my plans are—”

But I stop listening at plans and just start shaking my head. “Nope. No way. I’m not part of your plans. I have no plans with you at all, in fact. I’m ready to hit the road.” I turn around, searching for a coat closet.

“Can you give us a minute, Madeline? We’ll meet you in the greeting room.”

I glance over my shoulder, since the doorman is blocking the coat closet with his large, very large—like bodyguard large—body. My aunt is scowling at me, like she had some vision of what kind of person I was and that’s just been shattered.

“Fine,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’ll have the servants bring drinks while I wait.”

The stress on the word wait seals the deal and as soon as she’s out of earshot, I lean up to Jax’s ear on my tiptoes. “She’s a bitch.”

“What the hell is going on with you?” Jax asks. “It’s like you just flipped into Bizarro Sasha before my eyes.”

“I didn’t flip into Bizarro Sasha, Jax. I went from Sasha Aston to Sasha Cherlin in two seconds flat. I. Don’t. Like. Her. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Just stop, OK? She’s not what you think.”

“What is she? Some do-gooder saving kids from the Company? I don’t see it.”

“Well, she has. She still does, Sasha. She’s known me most of my life. I know her.”

“I hate her. It’s not even dislike, it’s hate.”

“That’s not even rational.”

“I do not care.” I even cross my arms for good measure.

“Sasha,” Jax says in that FBI voice of his. “Consider the possibility that you’re angry at her for not being in your life. That you were left homeless and orphaned after your father and grandparents were killed. That is rational. But blind hate is not.”

“Blind hate seems pretty rational to me. I’ve felt it before. I had an uncle from this side of` the family as well. He was a total dick. I never liked him. And that was a good call. He tried to kill Harper once.”

“Just give her ten minutes. OK? Ten minutes. That’s probably all the time she scheduled for this meeting anyway, she’s incredibly busy.”

“Yeah, busy running this… this… what the hell kind of place is this?”

“She’s gonna tell you. If you let her.”

“I don’t like this, Jax. I’m telling you, the inner assassin in me is screaming, Get out. I want to leave.”

He sighs. “OK, fine. I told you it was your call, and it is. So just wait here. I’ll go tell her we’re leaving.”

The relief floods through my body. “Thank you.” I grab his arm before he walks off. “And I’m sorry, OK? I am. But I just can’t be here.”

He nods at me, feigning understanding. But I know he thinks I’m irrational. Regardless, I got my way. He walks off down a long hallway in the same direction as Madeline—which was not the way she approached—and I watch him until he disappears around a corner.

I hug myself, chilled to the bone. Something is wrong here. I can feel it. I’m not sure what it is about this place that has me on edge, but—