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Wretched (Never After Series)(10)

Author:Emily McIntire

“She lives!” He slaps a hand to his chest. “I’ve been tryin’ to get a hold of you all day.”

Out of everyone who works for my dad, Zeke is undoubtedly my favorite. He’s one of the only people I can tolerate, and over the years he’s worn me down enough to actually enjoy his company.

“Been busy.” I pop another olive into my mouth.

“With what?” Dorothy scoffs. “You’ve been hanging out with that loser from your high school again?”

I grind my teeth, trying to rein back my irritation at her constant nagging. She’s talking about Cody, of course. She’s convinced that we’re lovers, and I allow her imagination to run wild because what she thinks of me is none of my business.

The truth is far from that, however. Cody is a computer geek, and I realized when he sat next to me in chem class that befriending him would work out for me in the long haul. So I kept him close and tolerated his company, knowing that he’d be in my corner whenever I need. And good thing I did considering he’s now one of the top hackers in the world. Of course, nobody knows that other than me, and most people agree with Dorothy, thinking he’s nothing but a loser who failed in Silicon Valley and moved back to live in his mom’s basement.

They couldn’t be further from the truth.

Zeke places his hand on her shoulder and nods toward the front door behind me. “There he is.”

His eyes sharpen and he stands just a bit straighter. My eyes flick to Dorothy, watching as she sticks her chest out, her pupils dilating.

“You’re late,” Zeke says.

“I like making an entrance,” a silky voice replies.

A sick feeling drops into my stomach because I know that voice. I’ve had it whispering in my memory ever since it moaned into my ear.

“Brayden,” Dorothy coos. “Hi.”

The coil unravels just a bit. Maybe he just sounds the same.

I spin around on my stool and my breath whooshes from my lungs like a sucker punch to the gut because it’s him. Nicholas.

And he looks… shocked.

Did he lie to me about his name?

He’s got that same black leather jacket he was wearing the night he fucked me against a bathroom wall, and a silver chain slightly peeking out of the neckline of a white shirt.

When our eyes meet, heat floods through my veins, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m remembering how good he felt inside me or because I’m furious he’s here now.

He takes his time perusing down the length of my body and then back up before locking on my eyes again. And then he smirks.

Irritation simmers deep in my chest.

“Brayden,” Dorothy says again.

The name snaps me out of this weird staring contest we’re in, and I let the corner of my mouth tilt up in a sardonic smile.

Brayden. He did lie to me about his name.

He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control. “Zeke. Dorothy,” he murmurs, his focus never leaving me. “And who do we have here?”

I glare and that stupid smirk grows.

Popping another olive in my mouth, I chew then swallow.

His gaze drops to my lips.

“That’s really none of your business, Brayden,” I say.

“Evie!” Dorothy snaps.

Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head. “For some reason, I pictured you blonder, Evie.”

“It’s Eveline.”

His face softens. “Now that’s a beautiful name.”

My insides tighten.

Dorothy laughs and steps forward until she’s angled herself in front of me, reaching her hand out and running it down the sleeve of his arm. “Come on, let’s get a table in the back.”

Finally—finally—he stops staring at me and puts his attention on my sister, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. He nods, placing his hand on her back, allowing her to lead him away, and my shoulders sag from tension I wasn’t even aware I was holding.

Zeke hums, rubbing his hand over his beard as he takes me in.

“What?” I drop my eyes to the bar, grabbing my phone and standing.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’。 You got somethin’ you need to say to me?”

My muscles pull tight. “What would you like me to say, Ezekiel? I’m here because dear ol’ daddy doesn’t trust your judgment. Or Dorothy’s apparently.”

My eyes flicker to where she’s scooting in next to Brayden in the booth.

Zeke nods, puffing out his cheeks. “I’ve known Brayden since back in the day. Haven’t seen him in a long time, but he’s good people. And he’s lookin’ for work.”

Tapping my fingers on the bar top, disappointment wraps around my middle. “I fail to see how that’s our problem.”

He smiles, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side as we walk to the table in the back. “You and your bleedin’ heart.”

I laugh at his sarcasm and let him lead me to the booth, ignoring the way my bleeding heart speeds when I look up and meet a pair of jade-green eyes.

7

NICHOLAS

That little fucking liar.

Technically, I suppose, she never told me her name.

But she’s a Westerly. And I… I did tell her my name. And that I was starting a new job.

Fuck.

I’ve been an agent for eight years, since I was twenty-four, and not a single time have I questioned myself. But right now, seeing the girl who won’t leave my memories standing right in front of me while I’m in an active undercover investigation? The odds are definitely not in my favor. And to be completely honest, I’ve already dropped the ball, because if I was doing my job, I would have recognized who she was when I studied her photos in our files. Maybe if I had looked a little closer, I would have noticed the resemblance, but my pretty girl is not this black-haired chick with piercings that cover the length of her ears and brown eyes that stare so deep they char my skin.

“I know,” Dorothy snaps me out of my daze.

I quirk a brow. “Know what?”

She scoots closer to my side. “You’re staring at my sister. She’s different. A lot of people call her off putting. She doesn’t get out much.”

“Oh?”

“It’s not her fault though. Our mom, she… she didn’t treat Evie too nice, you know? Caused a lot of issues.” She taps her head. “Up here.”

The urge to keep asking questions, to learn everything about Eveline Westerly, is strong, but I bite back the notion, unsure if I want to know because of the case or because she’s under my skin; the energy wafting off her, even now, is heavy enough to make me teeter on the edge of sanity.

There’s never been anyone who’s affected me like this. It’s the reason I approached her at the club, and it’s definitely the reason why I fucked her against the dirty bathroom tile while she screamed into my mouth.

My eyes track Eveline and Zeke as they walk to the table, his arm slung around her shoulders and a slight smirk lining the corner of her lips. Annoyance flits through me as I take in their compatibility. She’s at ease with him. She trusts him.

Are they dating? He’s way too old for her.

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