Page 45 of Confessions

“I never lied to you.”

“You left—”

She heard his back teeth grind together. “Did I promise you differently? Did I say I’d stick around?” His fingers dug into her upper arms. “Damn it, woman, I ended up in the hospital and by the time I was back on my feet you were gone—vanished into thin air!” A cold smile touched his lips. “But you had what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“I—wha—”

“The money, Nadine. I know about the money.”

“What money?”

Dropping her hand as if it were acid, he hurried down the stairs and kicked the door shut. The door banged against the casing. “Don’t you ever, ever make me look like a fool again!”

“I don’t think I have to help you. You seem to do a fine job of that yourself.”

“Son of a—” He grabbed his sacks of groceries and stormed into the kitchen.

“You arrogant, self-serving bastard!” Nadine hissed after him. “How dare you come storming in here full of half-baked accusations and lies!”

A crash sounded from the kitchen and a string of swear words followed.

Furious, Nadine told herself to remain calm. Usually, she could keep a level head. Even when she imagined herself in love with Turner, she’d managed to stay composed. But every time she was near Hayden, her emotions were wound tight as a clock spring, her temper ready to explode. She clamped down on her teeth and picked up her dust rag. The smart thing to do, the reasonable thing to do, was to hold her tongue and cool off. Think before she acted.

But despite her arguments to the contrary, she half ran down the stairs and dashed into the kitchen where he was picking up a coffee cup that he’d knocked over. The ceramic mug had shattered and coffee and chips of pottery had sprayed upon the floor.

“Watch out!” he warned.

“I can handle this. I’m used to dealing with spills and broken—”

“Just leave it the hell alone,” he cut in. “And while you’re at it, leave me the hell alone, too!” He glowered up at her, swept the pieces together with a wet towel and, under his breath, muttered something about pigheaded women.

“You know, Hayden, if you’re trying to impress me with this macho routine, it’s not working.”

“I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“Good. Now, maybe you can explain about the money you accused me of wanting.”

He threw her a dark, scornful look.

“What money?” she repeated, ready to strangle him with her gloved hands.

“The blackmail money!” He slammed a cupboard door shut. “The damned hush money.”

“Are you crazy? Blackmail? What’re you talking about?”

He shoved two sets of fingers through his hair. “You know, Nadine, I told myself that you were different,

convinced myself that your family was different, but in the end you proved that you and Trish and Wynona are the same kind of women—cut from the same greedy cloth. Maybe there isn’t any other kind!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Like hell!” He strode over to her and ripped his wallet from his back pocket. His face was a dangerous shade of red and his lips flattened against stark white teeth. Eyes crackling with fury he yanked out a thick stack of bills. “Here you go, Nadine. Take it and leave. Consider your job here finished!” He slapped the bills into her hands, and she just stood there, too dumbfounded to speak. “If it isn’t enough, if your deal with Bradworth is for more—just call him. He’ll send you the rest.”

“I haven’t finished—”

“Oh, yes, you have, Nadine. You were finished a long time ago.”

“You miserable—”