Page 162 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
I said it.
So fucking what?
When the movie ended, she set aside her designs, pulled her knees to her chest, and asked, “What is up with you and Candy Crush?”
I swiped up, obliterating the level. She waited for me to respond, burning the side of my face with her attention.
I considered my answer, but Dad thought of her as family, which meant she deserved the truth. “Dad used to play it during his treatments. We’d sit side-by-side, trying to beat levels before the other. It distracted him from the needles pumping shit into his arms.”
“Like chemo?”
“No.” I set the phone down and studied her, content to watch her watch me. “It doesn’t eat away at your health like chemo. In fact, it made him better. Healthier. Sturdy when he worked. Kept the heart running great. But the drugs were delivered intravenously and, judging from the noises in the clinic, painfully.”
Her front teeth pierced her lower lip. A coat of liquid brimmed her eyes. So fierce, yet so gentle. Typical Emery, longest claws and the biggest heart. “I wish Hank had told me and Reed.”
“So you two could suffer, too? Never.” I shook my head, remembering how Ma, Dad, and I barely made it work at times. “Ma held it together by a thread most times. She didn't want Reed to suffer that, and Dad didn't want you two to think of him as weak.”
“I love Hank and Betty, but it was selfish. We deserved to know each moment with him could have been our last. I could have treated him better.”
“You treated him the best, Tiger. He knew that.”
I swallowed down the idea of her taking Reed’s side on this, of possibly being involved in the embezzlement, though I now had my doubts. She had loyalty to Gideon, but she also had loyalty to us.
“Look,” I added, taking in the watery blue and grey eyes, “his illness wasn’t contagious, but it spread from him to Ma to me. His heartbeats could be fucking useless. I felt the drag of my heartbeat each time I took a punch for him. Ma felt it each time she worked double shifts. For all my life, I fucking felt it. We stopped it from infecting you and Reed. You think it wasn't my choice to make, and you’re right. It was Dad’s, because if his heart hadn't killed him, watching two of his favorite people suffer for him would have.”
That’s the thing about getting sick. You don’t suffer alone. You suffer with the people you love, which is too much fucking suffering.
Emery accepted my answer. The silence didn’t bother me, mostly because I knew she liked it.
Always had.
“What’s with the charities?” she asked ten minutes into the second John Wick. “Why do you volunteer at soup kitchens?”
I do it to ease the guilt. I burned that fucking ledger, thought I could use the info to build my company and save my dad, and I ended up too late. Life and regret are my punishments. Giving away every piece of me is my penance.
“Penance,” I offered without elaborating.
Her eyes flicked to my tattoo, visible under my tee. The tip of her tongue peeked past her lips. It darted back inside. “What sins are you atoning for, Nash?”
“Stay in your lane, Tiger.”
“Let’s play a game.” She tucked her legs beneath her ass, leaning closer to me.
“Let’s not.”
“Truth or Dare?”
I shot her a look, knowing which she wanted me to pick and choosing the opposite. “Dare.”
“I dare you to pick Truth.”
“Jesus, do you ever follow the rules?”
“There are no rules. It’s Truth or Dare. Now say, Truth.”
“Truth,” I said for the sole reason of shutting her up, and not because she still had a tear trail on her cheek.
“How are you really feeling about your dad?” At my silence, she added, “You don’t have to answer if you don't want to.”
