Make Me - Tessa Bailey Page 0,68

Russell’s ears, but he felt obligated to push on. If he didn’t, it would mean he’d been wrong. Horrifically wrong. “I didn’t blame her for it. I didn’t even . . .” It had been the last thing on his mind, compared to hurting her. Anything she’d done to get away from him had seemed entirely justified, so he hadn’t examined it too closely. Even if she had offered him money via the lawyer, he’d assumed she’d done it out of whatever remaining generosity she had left toward him. Never out of spite. Not his Abby. But . . . what if she’d never done it at all?

Louis cleared his throat. “I imagine it wouldn’t be too difficult to get basic information about you. Not for someone who has connections in the financial world. And if he’s the corporate counsel for a hedge fund that size . . .” Louis shrugged. “That’s where he lives.”

Russell’s brain was struggling to play catch-up. Through the haze he’d been living in the last five days, holes started to form, letting in blinding light. Mitchell had known his last name. At the time, he’d barely been capable of registering it as odd, but now it told him how the lawyer’s night had been spent. Protecting his asset, namely Abby, by getting rid of the man who could drag her down. Or drag her away from the world she lived in. The company that kept him driving the most current Mercedes. Yeah, that fucker had taken Russell’s number by the pool, and again in the kitchen. One of these things is not like the other. . .

Had Mitchell taken it upon himself to separate them? If he had done so, was it justified? If Russell had really hurt Abby, then yes, it had been. But he didn’t know because he’d left without even talking to her. Finding out how she felt.

“Why didn’t you tell us about the bank meeting?” Ben asked, gaze narrowed on Russell. “Why keep it to yourself?”

“I’ve had five fucking bank meetings, Ben.” The frustration burst out of Russell. Why were they asking him questions when his head was splitting in half? “You’ve known me for a while. Does listing my failures sound in character for me?” He pressed a hand to his right eye, hoping to prevent his skull from cracking. “I was trying for her. I’ve been trying for so long.”

“For Abby,” Louis said slowly, understanding clearing the confusion on his face. “While you were trying so hard, you pushed her away, man. She would have loved you all the more for it.”

Honey leaned forward on Ben’s lap. “What are you talking about?”

“I friend-zoned Abby,” Russell said, tight-lipped.

Roxy gave a decisive headshake. “You can’t friend-zone the friend zoner.”

“I’m in love with you.” Louis laid his head on Roxy’s shoulder. “Have I told you that in the last hour?”

Ben and Russell traded a Jesus Christ glance.

“Roxy is right, but it doesn’t explain what’s wrong with Abby.” Honey pinned Russell with a look. “Unless there was illegal contact in the friend zone.”

Russell banged his forehead against the table—and with that damning reaction—chaos erupted around him. “Did you know about this?” Roxy asked Louis, jerking her shoulder away, while Honey turned an accusing look on Ben at the exact same time.

Ben removed his glasses. “Fix it, Russell. Fix it now.”

“She didn’t even tell us.” Honey traded a worried look with Roxy. “You two are always stuck together. There was nothing weird about that . . . but we should have tried harder to get it out of her.”

Russell lifted his head to find Roxy glaring at him. “Do you know why she didn’t tell us, Russell? Her best friends?”

“Why?” he croaked.

“She was probably ashamed.” Roxy’s words were a hot poker impaling his middle. They were enough on their own to drop him, but she wasn’t finished. And he wanted to sit there and take it. Deserved every painful word. “And she wasn’t ashamed because of whatever complex you have about . . . money or your company. Work that shit out, by the way. I certainly did.” Roxy stabbed at the table with her finger. “She was ashamed because you cheapened something that could have been really beautiful. You made her a friend with benefits. Abby.”

Russell forced himself to swallow the anguish trying to capsize him because that final bullet would have done it. If he let himself perish from a wound now, he had no chance of seeing her again. And his