Sultry Oblivion by Alexa Padgett

Author:Alexa Padgett [PADGETT, ALEXA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alexa Padgett

15

Aya

Nash stiffened, causing me to reciprocate. He blew out a breath as he stepped back. The sun was now high enough to cause me to squint, and small beads of perspiration formed at the back of my neck under the heavy fall of my hair.

“Lies, even by omission, manipulation of any kind—I can’t stand it. Betrayal of trust.”

I nodded. “I can see that. I understand your reasoning. And I totally get it.”

“I’m serious, Aya.” His eyes were hard, stormy. “I don’t want to be like my parents.”

I dropped my gaze as shame heated my face, neck, chest. “I wish…”

He pivoted in front of me and placed his index finger over my lips. “No. It’s done. We can’t change that. Only now, only the future matters.”

I nodded, albeit reluctantly. I touched his cheek. “There’s your stubborn streak.”

He turned his head and kissed my hand. “It wasn’t stubbornness so much as all the anger that had nowhere to go. I tried to write songs, I performed. But my mom died in that fiery end….You weren’t talking to me. My bandmates were older, had more freedoms, and I felt…”

“Trapped,” I said. “You were trapped in a nightmare.”

He nodded. “And I rebelled. The guys had booze, my manager handed over some pills. And I took everything all together.”

I paused, my hand to my heart. “When did that start?”

He squinted up into the trees. “It had been building for a while, but the first really bad night was when the story broke about you and Yamir Ali.”

I dipped my head, my chest aching. “You took drugs.”

“I took drugs. And drank a shit-ton of liquor to the point that I blacked out. Steve apparently held my head while I puked my guts up.”

I filed that tidbit in the back of my mind. As much as Nash wanted to detest Steve, he couldn’t. But that was for another day. My heart ached for the boy who’d been failed by so many in his life.

“Pop Syad died just weeks after my mom. I had to go to his funeral, but I refused to be at the reading of the will. I’ve been told he left me everything. Well, pretty much. He gave his personal assistant, Cynthia, the directorship she wanted and stock options. She told me more about the will, but I didn’t care. I don’t touch his money,” Nash spat.

“No?” I asked.

We’d arrived at the creek. This time of year, it narrowed to a thick trickle. Nash bent down, letting go of my hand to pick up some river stones, which he tossed with angry, jerky motions.

“I don’t need his wealth. I have my own, from my record sales.”

I nodded as that resonated within me. “My father was plowing through my mother’s money,” I told him. “I was in the process of cutting him off with my solicitor’s help, which is what led to the disastrous attempt to tie to me Alistair.”

Nash, still on his heels, grabbed more rocks. His shoulders were stiff, and he emanated menace.

I winced under his hot glare.

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