Page 45 of Wicked as Secrets


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Second, he didn’t know a lot about how political minds worked. Give him a good terrorist any day, and he could figure out their motives and methods—usually optimal damage for minimal effort. But people in the public eye weren’t about a cause, just appearances. They never forgot a grudge, and they could wait patiently to extract revenge. They would leave no stone unturned and spare no expense to inflict their destruction if that meant covering their asses. And whatever tactic they chose, Madison wouldn’t see it coming. Sure, she’d been swimming with the barracudas since marrying Todd Pershing, but she wasn’t one. She didn’t have it in her.

That led Matt to his third—and shittiest—realization. Not only was Madison outnumbered, so was he. If he was going to keep her safe beyond a day or two, he had to bring in a small army of big guns.

He closed his eyes and breathed her in one last time before he forced himself to stand. She hadn’t moved all night. Clearly, she’d been exhausted. For her sake, he hoped she woke rested, with the fortitude to face today. She was going to need it. From here on out, nothing would be easy.

He padded to the kitchen and flipped on the coffeepot. After checking the perimeter one more time, he slipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth, his thoughts still tangled up in Madison.

Twenty-four hours ago, he would have told anyone who asked that he didn’t care if he saw her again. He would have been lying, too—especially to himself. Hell, he had been for the past three years, mentally rewriting their history into a hot but meaningless fling, which he’d sworn left him with memories of Madison that were far better than the reality.

But in a handful of hours, she had reminded him just how alive he felt with her. And now that he had to let her go again, apprehension raged. Fury clogged his throat. He choked on bitter regret.

After stashing his toothbrush, he stomped back to the kitchen and scowled at the drip-drip-drip of the slow-ass coffeemaker and paced the kitchen. If he didn’t, Matt swore he’d climb the walls or crawl out of his goddamn skin. God, he’d do almost anything to stop this plan he’d put in motion.

If he wanted Madison to live, he couldn’t.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Matt tensed and withdrew it. He expected the name he saw on his screen, but his gut still clenched. “Nash.”

“Hey.” His buddy’s voice was rough from use and lack of sleep.

“You okay? Sounds like Casey worked you over.”

“Jesus, how do you keep up with her? All she wants is dick.”

“All the time. And don’t talk to her, either.”

“She made thatrealclear. But I wasn’t hooking up with her for her sparkling personality—”

“That’s a good thing, because she doesn’t have one.”

“She really doesn’t. Great tits, though. I appreciate you being cool that I hooked up with her, but I’m tapping out. She’s not for me.”

“The sex wasn’t good?” That surprised Matt. Casey was both indefatigable and a champion cocksucker.

“It was fine, just…impersonal.”

Funny, that’s what he’d always appreciated about her. They had nothing but sex, and she made no bones about it. Apparently, that wasn’t Nash’s speed. Then again, the big guy was hung up on Haisley, who gave him a wide berth every time they ran into each other.

“That’s Casey. But you didn’t call to chat about your sex life.”

“God, no. I love you, man, but…” He laughed. “I was checking in to see if you’re awake. I’m on my way over…and hoping I could use your shower. Casey didn’t want me in hers. Too personal.”

Matt shoved down his denial and poured a hot mug of java. “Sure. I’ve also got coffee and eggs, if you’re interested.”

“You’re a life saver. Be there in ten.” Nash hung up.

Matt pocketed his phone with a curse. He didn’t have the luxury of putting off the inevitable. Last night, he’d washed Madison’s clothes, so he pulled them from the dryer and draped them across the chair in his bedroom, then gathered her stuff and packed it, along with her USB drive—which he’d copied to both his cloud and an external drive. Then he tucked a few necessities into her gray backpack and zipped it up.

The next ten minutes alternately seemed like the longest and shortest of his life, but when Nash pulled up, Matt opened the front door. They needed to exchange a few words before Madison woke.

“Morning.” His massive friend ducked as he entered with a grimace, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and carrying a gym bag that hopefully contained clean ones. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Matt shrugged. “I’m about to ask you for a huge-ass favor, so a shower and some food is the least I can do.”

“I’ll pass on the food, but I really need to get clean since Casey is such a dirty girl.” He grimaced. “So, what do you need?”

“Why don’t I pour you a coffee and explain?”

Nash quirked a brow. “Buttering me up? You’re usually straightforward, so whatever you want must be enormous.”

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