by Amity Cross
I froze, my fingers clutching the strap of my bag.
“Juliette Spicer isn’t your real name,” he declared, his cold, dead eyes boring into mine.
“I… What…”
“The damsel in distress act has obviously worked on my son, but it won’t on me.”
“It’s not an act,” I shot back.
I felt bile rising in the back of my throat, fear clawing at my heart.
“Does he know the truth about your sister?”
“What are you talking about?” I inched away from him, racking my brain to remember the self-defense moves Caleb had taught me, but they wouldn’t work, would they? His father was a world champion boxer. I was screwed if he decided to attack.
“She was still alive when you found her, wasn’t she?”
My blood ran cold, my stomach churning. “How do you know that?”
“Money talks when you put it in the right hands,” he replied with a sneer. “At first, I thought it was what you wanted, but when you refused… Color me intrigued.” He retrieved a folder from the back seat pocket. Dropping it on my lap, I presumed he wanted me to look inside, so I eased open the cover with a trembling finger.
Melanie stared back at me, but it wasn’t a cheery family picture. It was a photograph taken at the crime scene. She was… I let the cover close, not needing to see any more. He knew everything then.
“Is it redemption you’re looking for with my son?” he asked.
“Redemption for what?” My voice shook, and I wanted nothing more than to wrench open the car door and run, but I was stuck. I was too afraid to move. He knew. He knew what I’d done.
Mr. Carmichael laughed like it was all the biggest joke of the century. “For finishing off Melanie, of course.”
I stared at him in shock. Everything was numb and so very far away. I breathed deeply, trying to catch my breath, but all I could smell was the coppery stench of fresh blood. Meagan, please…
“By the look on your face, I see I am correct,” he said. “The police kept it out of the media after they cleared you, but it’s all there in the report.”
“But… It’s closed. The case…”
“My wife had a very telling conversation with Caleb yesterday,” he went on. “It seems he doesn’t know a single thing about your past.”
My heart twisted. “You didn’t…”
“No, not yet, but I will,” he said, sneering. “Here are my terms, Meagan O’Connor. Leave my son amicably, or I will destroy you. Your name will be in the press, the truth of what you did public knowledge. You will never be able to find employment, no one will love you, and you will rot beside your sister. My son will not be associated with the likes of you. He is a champion and will return to the ring after you’re gone. That is his future. Yours can still be pleasant. All you have to do is leave Caleb, and never contact him again.”
“You’re sick,” I whispered.
He smirked, turning his attention forward. “I think that’s your specialty, Meagan.”
I couldn’t stay here. Every nerve ending in my body screamed at me to run, so that was what I did.
Wrenching open the door, I tumbled out of the car, almost falling to my knees. Righting myself, I fled, disappearing back into the building, my heart pounding. Finding the nearest public toilet in the foyer, I fell to my knees in the first stall and heaved, throwing up the contents of my stomach.
When I was done, I closed the stall door, thankful I was alone. Leaning against the wall, I placed my palm on my burning forehead, my fear almost overwhelming.
Everything I’d done… Everything… It had all been for nothing. I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t find redemption. I couldn’t find love. Why did I ever think I deserved better after what I’d done?
Vincent Carmichael had just stolen the last chance I had for a new life. He’d callously ripped apart my last shred of sanity, not only threatening me but my family as well. All over his desire to propel Caleb back into the ring. He was a man who was prepared to risk his son becoming paralyzed for money and power.
And I believed him.
Fumbling in my bag for a tissue, I wiped the corners of my mouth, then tossed it into the toilet and flushed.
I had to get up.
Pushing to my feet, I staggered out of the stall and hovered over the basin. Staring into the mirror, I dabbed at my eyes, attempting to fix my makeup.
A shadow flitted behind me, and I hesitated, focusing on the reflection. Melanie stood over my left shoulder, her blonde hair streaked with red. Blood covered her sun-kissed skin, her blue eyes iridescent against the stain. It had been a long time since I’d looked at myself and seen her.
What was I going to do now?
24
Caleb
Monday without Juliette was agony.
I’d become used to our ritual of training followed by blistering sex. It had been almost a week since I had her, and I was having withdrawals. Although, after Saturday’s awkward dinner with my parents, I couldn’t blame her for wanting distance.
Dad’s behavior toward her had been unforgivable, and Mum…hers had been stranger still. If they were trying to reassure me they had my best interests at heart, they were failing miserably.
The entire ride home, Juliette had been withdrawn, and I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Something more than being treated like shit by my judgmental parents.
Wednesday, I was waiting in the gym when she finally turned up. She pushed into the studio, and I had to do a double take. When I saw she was still in her work clothes—a crisp blue shirt and a black knee-length skirt—my heart sank like a rock.
Walking toward me, her gaze was fixed on the floor, her shoulders tight with tension. It was like a ghost had walked through the door, these past months nothing more than a dream.
Immediately, I reached out to comfort her, to pull her into my arms and hold her close to my heart, but she jerked her head to the side. I stilled, my hand dropping away.
“Jules?” I asked, my forehead creasing.
“I… I can’t…” she muttered, looking every bit like the woman who’d first walked into Beat.
“What’s happened?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
She licked her lips before swallowing, her eyes fixed on my chest.
“Jules, tell me what’s going on,” I begged, starting to panic. “Has someone hurt you?”
“No.” She shook her head, her ponytail swishing from side to side.
“Fuck,” I said, running my hand over my face. “You’re really starting to scare me.” I reached out for her again, but she pulled back.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said.
Her words slammed into me, and my knees almost buckled. The wind was completely knocked out of me, and it took a moment to catch my breath. She had just blown in and knocked me for six. Just like that. Out of nowhere.
“What?” I asked, my heart thumping a mile a minute. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to see you anymore,” she stated.
“Where is this coming from?” Had I moved too soon in asking her to submit to my father’s whims to meet her? “Let’s sit down and talk about this.”
She shook her head harder and wrapped her arms around her middle. It was her unconscious way of shielding herself, and seeing her revert to old tendencies caused my panic to deepen.
“Jules, look at me,” I demanded, not believing her for a second.
Her entire demeanor had changed practically overnight, which made me believe something had happened. Something bad. Her reaction couldn’t have been triggered by my father’s rude interrogation on Saturday. It was shitty but causing her to break up with me? I didn’t believe it. Something else was in play.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” I said, closing the space between us. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Caleb, please. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“How do you know?” she cried, finally looking at me. Tears welled in her eyes, and I froze. All I saw was blind fear.
“Do you think I haven’t paid any attention this whole time?” I exclaimed. “I see you, Juliette. I see you.”
“No, you don’t see anything. You can never understand. I can’t be with you anymore, Caleb. I should never have let it get this far.”
I grabbed her arm, desperate to stop her from leaving. “Don’t, Jules. Don’t.”
“Let me go!” She wrenched herself away, stumbling backward.
She shielded herself from me, and I instantly regretted touching her like that. “Jules…”
“Why won’t you just leave it be?” she cried. “I’ve made my choice.”
“You have? Or has someone made it for you?”
“Your father offered me fifty thousand dollars to leave you,” she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “And I said no!”
“What the fuck? I don’t believe you,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s fucking crazy. Why would my dad offer you money? I can’t even…”
“You deserve to know the truth about him,” she went on, ignoring me. “Because when I walk through that door, I’m not coming back. I know you don’t understand, but I have others I need to protect. It’s not just about me.”
She was damn right about one thing. I didn’t understand at all.
“Juliette, stop.”
“I’m not leaving because of him,” she said. “I never took a single cent from that man.”
“Then why?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. The only woman I’d ever cared about had just torn my heart from my chest, the heart I never knew existed, and had shit all over it. “Why, Jules?”
She shook her head and backed away.
“I deserve to know,” I demanded, my hands shaking. “What happened to you?”
A sob escaped her throat, and I couldn’t believe, not for one second, that she was doing this willingly. I’d seen the light in her eyes when we were together. I’d felt…
“You’re better off not knowing,” she replied.
She turned away and kept walking, pushing open the studio door and disappearing into the night. At least she wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore. Like that was some fucked-up consolation prize. The door slammed shut, and I was alone, my heart completely shredded.
I was completely blindsided. My head spun like I’d just been punched in the temple, and I fell, my ass hitting the mat with a slap.
Something had forced her to do this. She didn’t want to leave. I didn’t believe a single thing she’d said, other than…
I raised my head, anger searing through my body, replacing the despair Juliette’s words had carved into my chest. Dad had offered her fifty thousand dollars to leave me. Dad had offered her a motherfucking bribe to dump my ass.
I pushed to my feet, grinding my teeth together. My father had done this. He’d done this, and he was going to pay.
This was the final fucking straw.
I slammed my foot on the brake, my car skidding to a stop in my parents’ driveway.
Getting out, I didn’t even bother closing the door. Forcing my way into the house, I went from room to room, calling out for Dad.
He emerged from his study, looking bewildered. It was a punch in the face seeing him act so fucking innocent when he was manipulating a vulnerable woman behind my back. A woman I cared deeply for. The nerve…
“Caleb? What’s all this noise?” he exclaimed.
Zeroing in on him, I shoved him back into the study. “You have balls, Dad. I’ve always known how slimy you could be, but this is a new low, even for you.”
Straightening up, his lip curled, and the boxer, not the father, stared back at me. He was cold, unfeeling, and a stone wall standing before me. If this came to blows, I’d be on my ass in a second, but I didn’t care. If I got in one good punch, I’d be happy.
“What did you do?” I demanded, fisting my hands into the front of his shirt. Jerking him close, I snarled, “What did you do to her, Dad? What did you do to Juliette?”
“What needed to be done,” he replied, staring at me stony-faced.
“What needed…” I scoffed, my face contorting. “You’re un-fucking-believable.”
“This is for the best, Caleb,” he said. “For our family, for your career, for our reputation. You’ll see in time.”
“Offering her fifty thousand dollars to leave me is good for our reputation?” I snorted, shoving him away. “It’s disgusting.”
“It’s more than that slut deserves.”
I raised my fist and struck, a burst of hatred exploding within me. It was so overwhelming it was all I could see. My knuckles slammed into Dad’s face, the shock from the blow tearing up my arm, but I could hardly feel anything.
He stumbled back in surprise, but it was only for a split second. He came back at me with a right hook, and there was nothing I could do to stop his fist coming down hard on my cheek. Rule number one of boxing was to never let your emotions get the better of you. Right now, mine were completely out of control.
The blow sent me sprawling, and I fell to the floor, my palms colliding with the carpet. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, and I spat, not giving a shit about the designer carpet. Pushing to my feet, I returned my gaze to his, my heart cold.
Dad’s cheek was red, the skin split and bleeding. In typical Carmichael fashion, the best punch of my life was wasted on him. My life, my career, it was all wasted.
“We’re done,” I said, my gaze never leaving his. “We are so done.”
Dad sneered, and all I could see was the snake he’d become. If I was going to be completely honest with myself, I was seeing the snake he’d always been. All these years, I’d looked up to him with shit in my eyes. I saw the man I wanted to see. I followed in his footsteps because I craved his praise and was desperate for his love. The love he only gave when I was winning.
Now…I saw everything so clearly it was humiliating. All those years wasted, but now? Now I was free.
“You forced her to leave me, the woman I love, and now I’m leaving you,” I snarled. “I never want to see you again.”
“Caleb,” Dad snapped. “You’re angry, I understand…”
“No, you don’t!” I shouted. “All these years, you’ve manipulated me and my career. It’s been about what you want. You never consulted me. When I was injured, you treated me like trash. You haven’t listened to me once since I got out of the hospital. Fuck, you never even came to see me! Not once have you thought about me or my health. Now you’ve sabotaged my relationship with Juliette. And what for? Money? Fame? Another belt to add to your collection? It’s empty, Dad. It’s motherfucking empty.”
“You need to forget her,” he hissed. “She’s lied to you from the start. About everything.”
I felt the color drain from my face. “What are you talking about?”
“She never told you what happened to her, did she?”
I stared at him, my throat constricting. How did he know?
“Six years ago,” he declared, “she came home to find her twin sister cut up in her bed. Murdered but she wasn’t dead. Not yet. Juliette came home, found her and—”
“Stop it!” I roared, shoving him away. “Don’t you fucking say it!”
“She killed her sister, Caleb. She killed her sister.”
The world fell away as his words hit home. I was numb, my ears ringing, my heart twisting, my stomach heaving.
Dad turned and picked up a black folder from his desk. Offering it to me, he said, “Everything you need to know is in here.”
Snatching the folder from his hand, I strode from the study, through the house, and outside.
Without knowing what I w
as doing, I got into my car and drove away. I turned corners, stopped at traffic lights, merged onto the highway, not even knowing where I was or where I was headed. When I finally hit a dead end—at a lonely beach outside of the city—I turned off the car and allowed everything to hit me where it hurt.
Staring at the waves below, I felt like drowning.
25
Juliette
Six years ago my twin sister was murdered.
We weren’t identical, but we may as well have been. I was there when she was born, and I was there when she died.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the scene play out before me like a movie, the scenes jagged but still clear.
I remembered coming home that night, heartbroken that I’d been stood up by Harry. I’d opened the front door, wallowing in my misfortune when I saw blood on the floor. My gaze traveled down the hall toward Melanie’s room, following the trail of red.
A crash followed my arrival, the sound of broken glass tinkling through the house. Melanie was home. She’d been here all night, jealous I was going out with Harry. She’d stayed in to sulk, planning to watch as many episodes of Sex and the City as she could, accompanied by a pile of buttered popcorn.
I didn’t think in that moment. I wasn’t in control at all. I ran toward the sound, knowing she was in trouble. I crashed into the doorjamb, jarring my arm, and that was when I found her.
I remembered the smell, the sight, and the overwhelming nausea that threatened to drown me the moment I stepped into her bedroom.
She was lying in her bed, covered in blood, pieces of flesh hanging from her body. It was all I could do not to turn and retch.
The only thing that stopped me were her eyes. They were alert and staring at me. She was still alive.
“Meg…” she moaned, her breath bubbling in her chest. “Help…”
“No, no, no, no, no…” I muttered, completely confused. What did I do? What did I do?
