Page 213 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
He unfolded it and read it with a raised brow. The amusement did nothing for my irritation. “I just realized something.”
I sighed, shoved the sketchbook into the Jana Sport, and dumped it into the car. “What?”
Nash closed the door for me and entered on his side. “Temper tantrums can be cute.”
Nash Prescott—the master of the backhanded compliment.
“For the record,” he continued, “my phone powered down. The mechanic forgot to return the charger to the car after he finished reupholstering.”
The following morning, my letter from Nash read:
You couldn’t look away from me yesterday. I know we're waiting for Gideon and you fear what you’ll learn. I promise you, there's nothing to be afraid of.
Ask yourself: what do you have to lose when being scared? What do you have to lose when being fearless?
Come back to me?
Nash
P.S. Tell Gideon to hurry the fuck up. I’m impatient by nature and prone to getting my way. You could’ve finished a hundred fucking Ava Harrison audiobooks by now.
I did, in fact, relay the message to Dad the following week, who only laughed and told me Nash could wait. The answer would have pissed me off, but he said it with such ease and comfort, I’d never felt more certain that we’d be okay.
We spent the day talking about all the events that had to happen to lead Virginia to him.
“Things happen for a reason, Emery.” Dad pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You've got to trust that.”
That night, I struggled with a response for the first time.
No.
Emery
P.S. What if it was fate that led me to you? When I ask myself questions like this, this path we’re on feels beyond us.
At this point, Dad and I had gotten into a groove. We'd fought our insecurities and found a relationship reminiscent of the one we used to share. This 1001 Arabian Nights-style blackmail could end without either of us feeling like we no longer had a reason to meet.
I could have told Dad to give me a quick rundown, so Nash and I could finally be together again. I didn’t.
Oddly, I did it for Nash.
He wore a distant look every time he dropped me off, and I knew he left for the cemetery to visit his dad while he waited. I also knew he felt so strongly about maintaining my relationship with Dad because he no longer had a chance with Hank.
So, I drew the meetings out, even when it gutted me and I sometimes caught Nash staring at me as if he was trying to figure out if I felt the same way.
Over a month later, the moment I feared came.
The Nash talk.
I wanted to hear this from Nash. How he'd found the ledger and burned it for me. The company he'd built off of the Winthrop Scandal and Dad’s secret investment. About the way he'd mistakenly blamed himself for Hank’s death. How he’d helped so many people to pay penance.
I’d already suspected most of it, so it didn’t come as a surprise. But at the end of it all, I realized something.
I’d seen it on his desk. The burnt leather, pages preserved inside.
Nash still had the ledger.
The one thing that could prove my dad’s innocence.
