Page 107 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
I’ve seen your scars. I’d taste them if you’d let me.
But there Nash was, displaying a human emotion for Maggie without looking human.
He looked like a god, descending upon Earth.
An angel seconds before becoming a demon.
I wanted to scratch my fingers down his face until he lost that smile, then rip his shirt open, point at the constellations of raised skin, and shout, “There! That’s the real Nash. Scarred, and broken, and permanently damaged, and definitely not smiling at a woman who deserves a smile from every man.”
I also realized I had completely lost my mind, because Nash Prescott gave Freddy Kruger a run for his money in the terrorizing department. He had also made it clear how little he wanted me when he’d walked away.
Nash carved up the rest of the massive turkey and distributed all but one tiny sliver between Maggie, Harlan, and Stella. “Just saying it how it is, Mags.”
Mags.
I was going to vomit. Maybe Nash did inspire my gag reflex.
“You are so bad.” Maggie shook her head before squishing the three plates onto her tray. “Thank you for the extra portions.”
Nash snapped his gloves off, reached into his back pocket, pulled out a crudely wrapped present, and offered it to a squealing Stella. She hopped up and down, doing a happy dance I wished I could enjoy.
“What about me?!” Harlan edged forward on the tips of his toes to get closer to Nash. A rocking chair near its tipping point. Five little fingers gripped onto the edge of the sticky buffet countertop.
“I’ve got the good stuff for you, Harlan.” Nash pulled out my wallet, sifted through a bunch of bills (not mine on account of me being broke), and plopped ten hundred-dollar bills onto Harlan’s tiny outstretched palm. “Buy whatever you want and give the rest to your mom, so you don’t lose it. Alright?”
That mone
y wasn’t for Harlan.
It was for her.
For Mags.
Morosis.
Solivagant.
Drapetomania.
Magic words that fizzled and died on my tongue.
“Sweet!” Harlan jiggled the bills a little before sliding them into his mom’s purse. “Thank you!”
“Nash…” Maggie’s voice dipped, her cheeks turning a shade of scarlet I marveled at. “It’s too much.”
“It’s for the kids. Don’t worry about it, Mags.” Nash slid the wallet back into his back pocket. Civility. Who would have thought he possessed it? “In fact, I don’t want to hear any more about it. There’s a line.”
“Yeah, okay.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, peered up at him beneath a curtain of long lashes, then glanced at me. “Will you sit with us, Emery? We’ll save you a seat. I’m gonna grab a table before they’re all taken and the kids run wild around here.”
“Yeah,” I promised, reminding myself I was not the person who hated another woman out of jealousy.
Mags.
Maggie left me alone with Nash, the silence enough to undo me. I stared at him. He stared at me. The woman beside me tapped her foot and coughed a few times, probably pissed off about her cold food.
Nash broke the silence first. “Those ten minutes of adulting really took their toll on you. You are a mess.”
“Excuse me?”
