Page 125 of Collateral Love
“Is it?” I asked quietly.
He paused. “What do you mean?”
I slid the tablet across the desk.
The tablet showed time stamps and financial echoes.
He scanned it.
Slowly.
His breathing changed.
But he didn’t look panicked. He was more calculated than I expected.
“That’s circumstantial,” he said finally.
“Everything is,” I replied. “Until it isn’t.”
Silence stretched.
Then he leaned back. “You don’t trust me.”
I studied him. “I trusted you when trust made sense.”
“And now?”
“Now,” I said evenly, “you’re the only variable that behaves like an answer.”
His jaw tightened. “You think I’d betray you?”
“I think,” I said, standing, “you wanted Kenya.”
That landed.
His eyes flashed. There it was, anger and wounded pride.
“She didn’t choose you, although you knew her first in college,” I continued. “And you learned how to smile through it.”
You were so committed to getting your lick back, you committed a petty crime and made sure you did time with X for a short bid so the family would trust you.
He stood too fast. “That’s?—”
“Human,” I finished. “But resentment doesn’t stay quiet. It looks for language.”
He swallowed.
“I protected her,” he said.
“You protected proximity,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.”
He laughed then. Sharp. Bitter. “You really think Cameron just found me?”
I didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
“You think she didn’t see me?” he continued. “Didn’t see how close I was? How disposable I felt next to you?”
