Page 74 of Cashmere Ruin
I freeze. “‘Buy’?”
“He offered me half a million dollars,” April explains in a deadened monotone. “In exchange for full custody, if you can believe that.”
I’m no stranger to bloodlust. My entire life is a quest for revenge, the bloodier the better. But right now, if I had Carmine and Dominic standing at opposite sides of the room and only one bullet, I’m not certain which one I’d shoot. All I know is where I’d aim: straight in the fucking crotch.
But there’s another, more pressing question in my mind. One that’s got nothing to do with hypotheticals and everything to do with the woman in front of me.
“What did you answer?”
April’s eyes widen. “What?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself. What did you fucking answer?”
It’s like a switch has been flipped. One second, April’s a shell of her former self, barely able to stand on her own two legs. And the next?—
The next, she’s fury incarnate.
“What did I answer?” she balks. “What did I fucking answer? You’re really asking me that?”
I set my jaw. “You’re evading the question.”
“I’m—” She opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish, but it doesn’t last long. The moment she gets her bearings, she springs up from the bed, crowding me against the wall. “I’m evading the question?!”
“If you won’t answer, then?—”
“NO, you asshole!” she shouts. “No, I didn’t fucking sell my baby to a psychopath! But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Oh, you want a vote of confidence now? Like I can trustyou? Please. After everything you’ve done?—”
The crack of her slap echoes in the room. I feel a tingle spread from my cheek. It’s nothing more than that; my face hasn’t even turned.
But April’s face is red. And now, her hand is red, too.
“Everything I’ve done has been to protect her,” she hisses. “Every step, every decision, every mistake. Everything I’ve sacrificed, I’ve sacrificed for her. And you’re asking me if I wouldsellher? If I would get rid of her for a goddamncheck?!”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?!” I snarl back. “We could’ve gone together! We could’ve?—”
“I fucking tried, you asshole!”
Suddenly, my words fail me. It’s like the entire world has shifted on its axis, sending me ass-first into the concrete.
Because suddenly, I remember.
Something came in the mail for me today. An invitation.
She did tell me. She tried.
She tried, and I didn’t listen.
It’s humbling to say the least—being literally slapped in the face with your own worst mistakes. Realizing all at once you’ve been doing everything wrong, without a single chance for denial. “Apr?—”
“Don’t,” she chokes out. “Don’t you fucking dare apologize now. Not after what you said to me.”
“April.”
“I said, don’t?—”
“I’m sorry.”