"No. I'm not your plaything. What kind of girl would I be if I let you take care of me?"
He reached out for me but I stepped away.
"You would be human Nev. You would be smart. Why make things harder on yourself and your mom?"
He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and held it out to me. It was thick. I knew there were thousands of dollars in there. If not more.
I stared at the envelope as if it was a snake that might bite me.
"No. I'm not a whore."
I brushed past him and he grabbed me, spinning me to face him.
"You're the furthest thing from that I can imagine."
Then he kissed me. Hard. And he wouldn't let go. His hands gripped me. I tried to fight him but he held me tight.
Finally he lifted his head, his eyes glazed.
"Don't do this Nev. Don't shut me out."
I slipped from his grasp, not looking at him.
"Don't come here again."
And then I ran back to our dirty little room.
Chapter Seventeen
Clay
I scanned the crowd, hoping for a glance of Nev. I was in between sets on day three of the tournament. She was here somewhere. Working. Giving me the cold shoulder.
Frigid really.
I hadn't given up though. I had kept my word and stayed away from the flea bag motel they were staying in. Every night though, as I lay in my big comfy bed, I texted her.
Wish you were here.
Goodnight Kitten.
Come back to me.
So far she hadn't written back. But I could sense that she was wavering. Especially after earlier. I'd caught her watching me win yet another match. She'd ducked her head and scurried away. But I had seen her. And after that I felt like I could do anything.
Like every fucking super hero ever rolled into one.
I'd won my next three matches without breaking a sweat. I was already in the finals. I was just waiting to see who I would play to become club champ.
I had a strong suspicion it would be Matt.
I could not fucking wait for that.
Especially considering I still wanted to ram my tennis racket down his throat. Just for thinking he could date Nevada.
Of course now she might be dating him now. Or anyone. She wasn't talking to me so I had no way of knowing.
But I didn't think so.
God, I fucking hoped not.
I would not be able to handle that shit.
I hydrated and stretched while I waited for my match. No surprise there-it was Matt. We grinned at each other as we took the court. But not in a friendly way.
More like sharks bearing their teeth.
Or wild dogs.
Or in his case, a hyena.
I was laughing to myself and I tossed the ball in the air for the first serve. The club was packed today. I could only hope Nev was watching.
I was doing this for her after all.
She might not accept money from me, but there was a cash prize of ten thousand dollars. If I won and gave it to her, or her mom, or Frannie-well, she knew I didn't need the cash.
Maybe she'd take it.
I fucking hoped so.
Throngs of socialites were in the stands. As well as the golf crowd. And of course, the young hotties. Everyone was there to watch me take down the club champ.
For a while it seemed to be going well. I was beating him. Slowly, but winning. Then I noticed Matt accepting a drink between sets. A girl stood by the side with a tray.
Nevada.
Matt reached out and stroked her cheek.
I barely saw her jerk back. I barely saw her storm away, hellfire in her eyes. I barely saw her drop the generous tip he'd given her on the floor.
I couldn't see any of that because I was seeing red.
Bright red.
The color of fresh blood.
I picked up the ball to serve again.
Nevada
I was at the bar, running another set of drink orders. I'd nearly quit after what just happened. Matt touching me like that in front of everyone.
Hell, him touching me at all.
And the creepiest part was that I knew, I knew he was only doing it to piss Clay off.
Matt was using me to get to him.
The thought made me want to throw up, truth be told.
I heard a ferocious cheer from the crowd. It must be over. I really hoped it was over.
And I hoped Clay beat the pants off of that fucking asshole.
Man, I'd really developed a potty mouth this summer. It was a good thing I didn't usually say those things out loud. My mother would not be amused.
I carried my drinks over to the patio and waited while the couple signed for their drinks. I glanced down. A 5% tip. This was standard at the club.
For some reason the richest people were also cheap ass sonofabitches.
I scanned the crowd, looking to see if anyone needed service. Then someone grabbed my arm and yanked me backwards. I stumbled as Matt dragged me around the building to where they kept the trash and out of use golf carts.
"What the fuck, Matt?"
He grinned at me, looking somewhat demented.
"Well, if it isn't little miss Nevada Jones."
I crossed my arms.
"What do you want?"
"I was just wondering if you are down to fuck."
"Excuse me?"
"Now that Clay is done with you. That's what he's telling everyone."
I stood there, staring at this cretin in disbelief. Clay wouldn't do that. Would he?