A Million Dirty Secrets (37 page)

Discarded … just like me.

I was going to tell him I loved him, too, to put an end to his ridiculousness, but no such luck. Before letting me get the words out of my mouth that were sure to prove him wrong, the control freak told me to get lost.

How was it fair that he got to say all he wanted when I didn’t? I mean, sure, I could’ve echoed his declaration while in the throes of passion, but that passion was pretty epic and I’d had a hard enough time remembering to breathe let alone being able to say anything that would have sounded in the least bit coherent or endearing. Besides, I really thought I had all kinds of time to tell him how I felt. I mean, hello? I told him to call me Lanie, for Christ’s sake. Plus, I didn’t want him to think I was saying those three little words just because he did. I wanted a separate moment to do the whole shout-it-from-the-highest-mountaintop-for-the-whole-world-to-hear thing so there was no doubting the sincerity of my declaration because a declaration of that magnitude was a pretty serious thing. But I was prepared to make that leap—for him, for me … for us.

And then he had to go and ruin it with his caveman crap.

Men are jackasses.

But at least I could do something about my jackass because I really had nothing to lose by confronting him. I was going to make him listen to me, whether he wanted to or not. He was going to know that I loved him, and he was going to feel like a total jerk for dismissing me the way he did, because I was going down to that posh little office of his to demand his attention. He was going to see how wrong he was to make the assumptions he had made, and he would never jump to conclusions again. I was a woman who had given up everything to save her dying mother’s life, and I had a voice that was screaming to be heard. I’d be damned if everything I’d been through since I entered Noah Crawford’s world was going to be for nothing.

Resigned to that plan, I turned on my heel and stalked back into the house with my shoulders back and my head held high. After a quick shower and a tour through Polly’s wonderland of inappropriate clothing, I dressed and grabbed my cell phone from the table before leaving.

I was really quite impressed with myself as I scurried down the stairs, again avoiding a neck-breaking, skull-crushing fall. When I reached the first floor, I heard a car pull up. It had to be Samuel returning from dropping Noah off, and I gave myself a healthy dose of see-this-was-meant-to-be because how perfect was that timing?

And then there was an insistent pounding on the door, followed by, “Lanie Marie Talbot, I know you’re in there! Get your fat ass out of bed and open the door!”

That was my bestie, Dez.

I sprinted for the door and yanked it open just as Dez was about to pound her fist against it again. For a girl she was pretty strong, and I was lucky that she narrowly missed cold-cocking me in the forehead. Like I needed to look like a unicorn when I went to confront Noah.

“Dez!” I shrieked as I ducked her fist. We both took a step back and eyed each other from head to toe.

“What the hell are you wearing?” we both asked simultaneously. “Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” I yelled at the same time that Dez yelled, “Jinx! You owe me a cock!”

Every time we played this game, I never got my Coke. Dez, however, always got her cock—without my help.

Dez was dressed head-to-toe in black on black. Well, mostly. Black skinny jeans, black turtleneck, black snakeskin boots. One larger-than-life skull belt buckle adorned the center of her low-slung hip-huggers, and she was wearing a black cap embroidered with yet another skull just over her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

I tackled my best friend, wrapping my arms around her torso and pinning her arms to her sides. “Oh my God! I’ve missed you so much!” It wasn’t until she was right in front of me that I realized just how badly.

“Get the fuck off me! Damn, what are they feeding you here, steroids?” she asked, trying to wriggle out of my hold.

I turned her loose, realizing my hug was probably borderline bone-shattering and stepped aside to invite her in. “What’s with the
Mission Impossible
getup?”

“I’m breaking you out.” She turned to look me over once
again with an approving smile. “Boyfriend sure did trick you out, huh? Look at you with the little red minidress, Slutty McSlutterson.” Then she suddenly gasped, her eyes going wide. “You have been thoroughly scrogged! Spill!”

I felt my face go red. “What? No!”

“Yes, you were, Lanie Talbot! Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I think I know that just-been-fucked look.”

I wanted nothing more than to gush to my best friend, but I needed to catch up to Noah, and Dez’s arrival was keeping me from doing that. Speaking of … “Wait, what did you mean by the whole breaking-me-out thing.”

“I meant, get your shit and let’s go. I’m on a covert mission to bail your ass out of sex-slave prison,” she said, and then looked around in awe. “Although, I don’t think I’d exactly call these digs a prison. This is a freakin’ palace!”

“Okay, seriously. Why are you here, and how did you know where I was?”

Dez rolled her eyes. “You said Noah Crawford bought you, and it didn’t dawn on me at first, but then it hit me like a whore getting bitch-slapped by her pimp in a dark alley: The Noah Crawford of Scarlet Lotus. Right? I mean, because how many Noah Crawfords could there be in the world, much less in this corner of the country and with enough money to pay two million little cha-chings for his own personal little
oh-yes-daddy-milk-me-papi
?” she asked with all the great acting skills of a porn star destined for the silver screen.

“Yes, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here insisting on breaking me out. I’m fine, and really, it’s not exactly like I’m a prisoner. Noah treats me very well.”

My best friend took a deep breath and sighed. “I have something to tell you, sweetie,” she started. Sweetie. She never called me that unless she was about to lay something heavy on me. My heart jumped into my throat and tried to claw its way out.

“Faye has taken a turn for the worse. She’s been admitted to University Hospital, and they’ve called in the family. I promised Mack I’d get you there. It doesn’t look good, babe.”

Just then, the front door opened and Polly bounced over the threshold. “Good morning, Lanie!” she greeted me in her usual bubbly voice as if my whole world hadn’t just been turned upside down. The smile immediately dropped from her face once she saw what I assumed was my paled expression. “Oh, God. What’s wrong?”

“Noah was right.” My chest constricted like an anaconda was squeezing the life out of it in preparation to swallow it whole. “My parents do need me more than he does.”

C. L. P
ARKER
is a romance author who writes stories that sizzle. She’s a small-town girl with big-city dreams and enough tenacity to see them come to fruition. Having been the outgoing sort for all her life—which translates to “she just wouldn’t shut the hell up”—it’s no wonder Parker eventually turned to writing as a way to let her voice, and those of the people living inside her head, be heard. She loves hard, laughs until it hurts, and lives like there’s no tomorrow. In her world, everything truly does happen for a reason.