Page 169 of Dirty Husband

Bet makes it sound fun. It's not fun. It's sick. But there's no sense in discussing that. "And?"

"I was thinking," her voice is soft. She's not angry. She's understanding. Caring. Loving. "Why would he tell me that? Not because he has my best interests at heart. Because he wants to put a wedge between us."

I say nothing.

"Why would he want that? Why is he playing this strange game with you? You don't love him. You don't like him. You go pale when you see him. And Nick too. He—"

No.

She's too close to the truth.

I can't let her say those words. I can't let her go there.

"You're right. It's a game. That's all. It's fun toying with people. Especially you." I pull the bottle from the paper bag in my hands. "But I already lost." I set the half-emptied bottle of bourbon on the counter.

"Shep—"

"I drank. You win. I'll have Lock send your first payment in the morning."

"I don't want to win. I want to talk to you."

"It will take a few days to send the rest. He'll arrange the details."

She crosses the room to me. Reaches for me.

I move away. When she follows, I push her.

She stumbles, but she doesn't stop. She holds her ground.

I suck a breath through my nose. I need to hold my expression. To convince her I don't give a fuck about her.

To do whatever it takes so she leaves before she figures this out.

She can't know.

She can't.

"You should go," I repeat it again.

Still, she holds her ground. "I only want to talk."

"There's nothing to discuss. This was a game. And I lost. So go. Collect your winnings."

"We're supposed to get married in two days."

"You'll have your money. That's what you wanted, isn't it?" I move past her. "Let yourself out. I'll change the locks tomorrow."

"Shep—"

I don't respond. I lock myself in my office and blast a metal band I can't stand.

She pounds on the door for a few minutes. Pleads for me to come out.

Eventually, she realizes it's hopeless.

Eventually, she leaves.

Chapter Forty-Six