Page 97 of Inflamed Touch


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Nodding, I rise and leave ten for the bartender and then we’re out of there.

We walk for a bit, and on a quiet side street he stops. “Your boyfriend could be in a whole lotta fuckin’ trouble.” He hands me the photos. “What are you going to do?”

“Diego, I know what this looks like, but—”

He starts to laugh and shakes his head. “You rich folk stick together, right?”

“You think I’m rich?”

He doesn’t answer.

I clutch the photos I want to throw at him tight. “I’m not rich. And I can’t help my father was.”

“Bringing your father into this, are you?

I slap his chest with the photos. “You’re prejudiced, Diego. A giant chip that made you do dumb things, made you run.”

“You know nothing,”

“I know you act like you don’t have a dad. That he’s gone. I know you send him money. And—”

“Shut the fuck up, Nadie.”

That hurts. Not the words, but the meaning. The door he slams between what he perceives are two different worlds.

“No.” I look at him. “I won’t. You’re thirty-two and acting like you’re sixteen. The world isn’t fair. And . . . you pushed me away then. You’re doing it now. I know you’re leaving. I know that. I’m not trying to make you stay. I know how much you hate this place. But don’t get that wrong, Diego. Because you can be a real prick sometimes.”

“Not to you, Nadia.”

“To me. Pushing me away is a prick move.” I take a breath and it catches on the bitter lump in my throat, coal-hot. “All I ever wanted was to love you. You betrayed me and I forgave you. Crumbled the moment those eyes of yours touched me.”

He laughs again. “I betrayed you? What about you with me?”

“Diego, you went off and did whatever with my father, and sent me a letter saying you’re the one to blame for getting Dad in that whole scam thing.”

“And you believed it. Still do, I’m guessing. And what he told you? Did you dismiss that?”

“He gave me the note, told me I’m better off without him and—” I stop. Look him in the eye. “No. I didn’t. Not really. Not when I think about it. But you betrayed me by leaving without a word.”

“Fuck, Nadia.” He moves in close, face right up to mine. “Jay was already being left for you to look after, even then. And with your dad shifting everything to me, which I let him do, because it was a better deal for him, I couldn’t stay. And you would never have left.”

He’s right. My eyes burn. I wouldn’t have. I couldn’t. Jay had been so young, Dad needed me, and I wasn’t even out of my teens. “I was too young, but you never offered choices, like you staying, and you never gave me a choice.”

“Here’s the fuckin’ kicker, Nadie. Nothing has changed. You still won’t leave. I can’t stay. I hate this place, it’s poison in my veins.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“No fuckin’ idea. But I have to take care of some shit for these kids, call the lawyers De Luca holds on retainer. So, go home.

He stalks off.

There’s no tease and sex talk now. There’s nothing. It’s like it’s all dead in the water because . . . because that’s how things roll. He’s off on business and I need to do the same.

Funny how Peabody united the younger ones in the group. Seems he’s less popular than even I thought.

I start heading to the station.

“Nadia—”

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