Chapter Twenty-Four
MARLEY
The Next Night
One week since Beck showed me that photograph.
One week since Nitro and I finally, finally made everything real.
Nitro the nice Uber Guy: Can you meet me at the apartment tonight? Around 7?
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Something about the tone feels off. Too formal. Too careful. Like he’s measuring every word before he sends it.
Me: Of course. Everything okay?
The three little dots appear, then disappear. Then appear again.
Nitro the nice Uber Guy: Yeah… just need to talk to you about something.
My stomach twists. Those six words have never meant anything good in the history of relationships. That’s breakup language. That’s bad-news language. That’s the kind of thing Derek would say before he’d tell me I was embarrassing him in front of his colleagues.
But Nitro isn’t Derek. I remind myself of this as I finish up my work for the day at Blackwell Entertainment Group.
I love this job.
I genuinely, truly love it.
The creative freedom, the collaborative environment, and the way my ideas are actually heard and valued. It’s everything I ever wanted in a career, and I got it without having to compromise myself or deal with condescending bosses who make me feel small.
The apartment.
Our apartment, really, even though Nitro still calls it ‘the apartment’ as if it’s just some temporary space, has become ours over the past month.
The walls I painted sage green. The vintage posters I found at that flea market in Henderson.
The ridiculous throw pillows that Nitro pretends to hate but always arranges just so when he thinks I’m not looking.
I change out of my work clothes into jeans and one of my favorite vintage band tees, The Cranberries, this time, faded and soft from a hundred washes. I’m reaching for my jacket when my phone buzzes again.
Beck The Better Brother: Dinner this weekend? I want to hear all about how disgustingly in love you are.
Me: You’re the worst.
Beck The Better Brother: I’m the BEST, and you know it. So that’s a yes?
Me: Yes. Love you.
Beck The Better Brother: Love you too sis. xo
I grab my keys and head out, trying to shake the uneasiness that’s settled in my chest. Traffic is light for once, and I make it to the apartment in twenty minutes. Nitro’s Honda is already parked in the parking lot, which surprises me. He almost never beats me here.
The apartment is on the twentieth floor of a fairly nondescript building, nothing too fancy.
I unlock the door and step inside.
Nitro is standing by the window, his back to me, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He’s still wearing his Las Vegas Defiance cut over a black T-shirt, his shoulders so broad they block out half the dying sunlight streaming through the glass.
“Hey,” I say softly, setting my bag down by the door.
He turns, and my breath catches. He looks wrecked. His green eyes are shadowed with something that looks a lot like pain, and there’s a tightness around his mouth that I’ve never seen before.
This is the face of a man about to deliver bad news.
My heart starts to pound. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk,” he says, and his voice is rough, like he’s been gargling gravel.
I force myself to move deeper into the room, perching on the edge of the couch. “Okay. You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to.” He drags a hand through his beard, a nervous gesture I’ve come to recognize. “Fuck. I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” My voice comes out smaller than I want.
He takes a breath. Holds it. Then releases it in a rush of words. “Jesus, I… I don’t even know where to begin.”
I reach out, grabbing his hand. “Hey… whatever it is, just tell me.”
He drops his eyes to the floor, as if he is ashamed to even look at me, and my stomach knots thinking all kinds of thoughts that I never thought Nitro would do to me.
Derek kind of thoughts. My hand slides off his with the tension as I shift away from him, already feeling the awkwardness brewing between us.
“Nitro…”
“I never wanted it to get this far, I never wanted it to go on this long.”
An audible gasp leaves my mouth, my stomach revolting as I spin away from him. “You’re fucking cheating on me, you bastard.”
He stands quickly, his hand gripping my shoulder. “No. God no. Never!”
Relief floods me momentarily as I spin to face him, but that same ashamed look still haunts him. “What then?” My voice rises in desperation.
He swallows hard, his eyes blinking rapidly. “My name isn’t just Nitro. It’s Damon…”
I huff in annoyance. “I know your name is Damon? Damon Lockhart, what are you playing at?”
He slowly shakes his head, his brows scrunching. “It’s not Damon Lockhart… I made that up, it’s a cover.”
Something cold punches through my chest so fast it steals my breath.
My stomach drops, hard, like the floor just tilted beneath me. My pulse spikes, sharp and frantic, rushing hot through my ears. For a split second, everything inside me freezes, and then everything starts trembling.
My fingers go numb.
My knees weaken.
Heat prickles under my skin like a thousand needles.
I recoil away from him, my eyes widening, panic and betrayal exploding through me in one violent surge. “Then who the hell are you?”
His nostrils flare with his rapid breaths, as if he is seconds away from losing it. “Damon Blackwell, Marley,” his voice is so low, I almost don’t hear him.
The name hangs in the air between us.
Damon Blackwell.
I know that name.
Everyone knows that name.
He’s the CEO of…
Oh God.
“You’re…” I can’t even form the words. “You’re Damon Blackwell? As in… Blackwell Entertainment Group?”
“Yes.”
The room tilts. I grip the arm of the sofa to steady myself. “The company I work for.”
“Yes.”
“The j-job.” My voice cracks. “My job. The interview, the offer…”
“I created the position for you,” he says quietly. “The job is real, Marley. The work you’re doing is real. But yes… I made it happen.”
I can’t breathe.
The air has turned to concrete in my lungs.
Oh, my fucking God!
“You… you gave me my job?”
“I wanted you to have something that made you happy. Something that got you away from Derek and that toxic environment—”
“You gave me my job.” I stand abruptly, though I don’t remember getting up. “Everything I’ve accomplished there, everything I thought I earned—”
“You did earn it!” Nitro, no, Damon, steps toward me, his hands outstretched. “Marley, you’re brilliant. The team loves you. The work you’re producing is exceptional.”
“But I got it because you g-gave it t-to me!” My voice rises, cracking and breaking apart. “Not because I was qualified. Not because I impressed anyone in an interview. Because you wanted to swoop in and save poor, pathetic Marley, who couldn’t get a job on her own.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then what?” I demand. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “What was it, Nitro? Damon? Boss? What the fuck do I even call you?”
He flinches. “Nitro. I’m still Nitro.”
“Are you?” I laugh, but it’s a bitter, broken sound. “Because I don’t know who the hell you are. I thought I did. I thought I knew you.”
“You do know me.” His voice is a desperate plea. “Marley, everything between us has been real. The way I feel about you—”
“How can any of it be real when you’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?
” I can’t hold back my tears now as they fall, hot and fast, down my cheeks.
“When did you plan to tell me? Ever? Or were you just going to keep playing this role, keep pretending to be some regular guy with an Uber side gig and a heart of gold?”
“I wanted to tell you so many times,” he says, and God, he sounds destroyed. “But I was scared. I was terrified you’d look at me differently. That you’d want me for the money instead of—”
“Instead of what? Instead of loving you for you?” I swipe at my face with the back of my hand. “Do you have any idea how insulting that is? You didn’t trust me enough to see past your bank account. You didn’t think I was capable of loving you for who you are.”
“I do trust you.”
“No, you don’t!” I shout, and I can’t seem to stop. “If you trusted me, you would have told me. You would have been honest with me instead of building our entire relationship on a foundation of lies.”
“Not lies,” he protests, and there’s desperation in his voice. “I never lied to you about how I feel.”
“You lied about everything else!” I gesture wildly around the apartment. “This place. Your job. Your name. Your entire fucking identity. What part of that isn’t a lie?”
His jaw clenches. “The fake dating was a lie too, Marley. Or did you forget that part?”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I stare at him, and for a moment, I can’t even process what he just said. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”
“Isn’t it?” There’s an edge to his voice now, something sharp and defensive. “We both agreed to pretend. We both went into this knowing it wasn’t real.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.” He runs both hands through his hair, making it stand on end. “I’m trying to make you see that we’ve both been pretending in different ways. The fake dating, keeping my identity secret.”
“Don’t you dare compare those things!” My whole body vibrates with rage and hurt.
“The fake dating was a mutual agreement that we both knew about. We were on equal footing. But this?” I gesture between us.
“You had all the power, Nitro. You knew everything about me, while I knew nothing about you. You manipulated me.”
“I never—”
“You orchestrated my entire life!” The words explode out of me.
“You created a job for me. You probably pulled strings to make sure I got out of Derek’s firm.
You swooped in like some kind of savior on your white horse, or black Harley, I guess, and you made me dependent on you without me even knowing it. ”
“That’s not what I was doing.”