Page 10 of For Better or Hearse
She squares her shoulders and turns to Augustus. But Nathaniel beats her to it. He takes his grandfather’s bag. Tries to pluck hers off her back like the caveman he is.
“I got it.” She locks her arms and pulls the bag tighter, but the sight of his long fingers and tan, well-veined hands is enough to knock her off-kilter.
She turns her head with a cringe. Please, god. Delete image.
“Grandpops,” Nathaniel says, his voice affectionate but still rough, “I think you could do better.”
Ash rolls her eyes.Grandpops. Of course he’d have an adorable nickname for Augustus.
Nathaniel heads for the exit, Augustus at his side, and she follows. She doesn’t attempt to keep up with them. The more distance kept between them, the better. Disgust emanates off Nathaniel in waves. He’s gritting his teeth so hard she’s afraid he’ll need reconstructive surgery.
Holy fuck. She’s always believed in kismet, but this? Flying halfway around the world only to discover that Augustus’s favorite grandson is Nathaniel Whitford is truly the coup de grâce. It’s the worst karmic retribution she’s gotten in her thirty-three years of existence.
There’s no talking, no expression on Nathaniel’s face as he leads them to the car. Only a hand on his tie, tugging it loose like it’s constricting him.
He’s a robot. A scowling, stomping lithopedion.
They pass through the sliding doors. All at once, they’re outside. Ash hisses at the sticky air and brilliant sunshine. Her all-black attire is instantly clammy and uncomfortable.
“Interesting,” comes a grim voice. Nathaniel’s sharp gaze skimsfrom her boots to her sheer long-sleeved lace bodysuit. “I should have known you were catlike in all of your reflexes.”
Ash bares her teeth. “Cats are one of the top apex predators of this world.” She jerks her bag back when he reaches for it again. “Show a little respect.”
His brow furrows. “Are you always so full of fun facts?”
“I am a walking encyclopedia.”
She scrutinizes the car. A big, black luxury SUV. Outside the passenger-side door, a driver waits, and relief fills her. She wants this conversation over with. More importantly, she wants air-conditioning. She’s sweating bullets. The heat’s sweltering. So different from LA. It’s like she got dropped into the middle of a sauna. Everything on her body is a puddle.
“How nice of you.” She gestures at the driver. “Making the world feel your wealth.”
“It’s a rental,” he grits out.
Ash yanks on the handle of the car door and throws him a withering glare over her shoulder.
Nathaniel pauses at the passenger side. “You know,” he says, squinting at her in disapproval, “not dressing like a plague doctor would help with all the sweating.”
Ash snorts. “At least I’m not dressed likeAmerican Psychoin paradise.”
There’s no comeback. Just a shutdown. Nathaniel flexes a fist, looking like he’s charging up his violence using photosynthesis.
Maybe she went too far.
Maybe.
Either way, she chases away that flare of guilt. He’s a cheater. He doesn’t deserve sympathy. Or niceness. Not from her.
Releasing an impatient breath, Ash crawls into the back seat. It’s dark and cool. She wants to burrow into the leather like a field mouse who loves a good sand dune. In her bag, her phone pings.
On the other side of the tinted window, Nathaniel helps hisgrandfather into the car, gripping Augustus’s hand with a tenderness that makes Ash’s throat pinch.
When the bags are loaded, Nathaniel takes a seat in the middle row and leans forward to give the driver directions.
The car begins to move as Augustus settles in the third row beside her.
Her phone’s obnoxious CGM alarm chimes yet another warning. This time she listens and pulls it out to check the reading. Her blood sugar is seventy-three and dropping. Tequila and an airport trek have done a number on her.
“You know,” Augustus begins, angling closer and momentarily distracting her. “If there was one thing I liked about you when we first met, it was the way you lunged for the altar.”