by C. A. Mason
She watched me warily, but at least she was still listening. I wanted to see just a hint of admiration in her eyes when she looked at me. Even though she was torn, angry, and confused, I wanted to believe we could find a way to move past this when the truth was revealed.
“I was hungry,” I continued. “He could see that. I wanted to be successful, to be somebody. You know why?”
“I don’t care why.”
“Because I felt like a nobody before. I wanted to give you the best of everything, and I couldn’t give you anything. I saw the way you lived, the nice house, clothes, cars, and jewelry. I wanted to give you all that and more. That was my motivation. You’re why I worked so hard to become successful.”
“I’d say you exceeded your goals,” she muttered. “No one needs that much money. It’s obscene.”
I laughed. It felt so good to laugh, even if her lips twisted in disapproval. “Trust me, it’s better to have too much than not enough. Seeing your dad again, that was unreal.”
“Why?”
Encouraged by her question, I said, “Because the last time, when I was working for him, I felt…” I couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t know, like I was invisible. He’d walk right by me like I wasn’t even there. He wouldn’t look at me. He looked through me, like I wasn’t important.”
Maura sighed. “That’s my father. He doesn’t feel most people are worthy of his attention. Sometimes I’m not even sure I am.”
“He loves you, Maura.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to say that or why I sensed she needed to hear it, but reassuring her had always been my M.O. Making her feel better made me feel better.
“I don’t need you to tell me that.”
I shrugged. “Anyway, this time, he looked at me with awe, maybe a bit of reverence. And it felt good. Damn good.”
“That’s only because he didn’t know who you really are. Wait ‘til he finds out.”
“Then you’re going to tell him everything?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”
I hooked a finger over my shoulder. “Because what we shared last night was real.” I circled my face with my index finger. “This may not be real.” Pointing back and forth between us, I said, “But this, what you and I have, that’s still real. You can’t deny our connection. You can’t deny I make you feel things no other man ever has.”
“Under false pretenses. You can’t hold that against me.”
I admired her tenacity. She was determined to hold fast to her convictions. “I’m just trying to open your eyes to the truth. If I was the sick bastard you think I am, I wouldn’t have let you walk away: that morning in the hotel, in the pool house, this morning. I would have held you against your will. I would have hurt you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I love you.” She didn’t believe me, but I still felt compelled to say it. “I guess I’ve never stopped loving you.” I chuckled. “Honestly, I thought it was impossible to feel anything for you after what happened in court, but you were lying in my arms that first night and I was listening to your story, the reasons you believed it was me, and I knew I was in trouble. I was starting to feel things for you, things I never expected to feel again.”
She looked so lost. I wanted more than anything to go to her, but I couldn’t touch her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“I don’t even know why I’m sitting here listening to this.” She stood. “I’m leaving.” She looked at me warily, as though she half-expected me to grab her. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Does that mean you don’t intend to turn me in?”
“I don’t know yet.” She crossed the room before looking over her shoulder. “I have a lot to think about.”
Chapter Two
Days passed, and I kept waiting for the cops to show up at my door to arrest me, but they didn’t. She’d kept my secret.
I was pulling into the parking lot at the loft building when I spotted Maura getting out of her car. I shouldn’t be there—even though I owned the building and had a fully furnished apartment waiting for me, I should have stayed in a hotel—but I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to catch a glimpse of her. But now that I had, I wanted more.
I snagged the first available spot and threw the Ferrari into park before she could slip inside. I knew she’d seen me. The car was impossible to miss. She’d seen me and was trying to avoid me, but I couldn’t make it that easy for her.
I walked into the lobby, and I was surprised to find her checking her mail. I’d assumed she would make a beeline for the elevator. Could she have been waiting for me?
“Hi,” I said, bracing one hand on the wall by the row of silver boxes. I was close but not too close, careful not to invade her personal space or make her feel intimidated.
“What are you doing here?” She shuffled through bills, not looking at me. “I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“You did.” I took in the gentle curve of her neck, remembering how she used to writhe in my arms when I kissed her there…
“Well? What are you doing here then?”
“I own the building, remember?” I hadn’t intended to play that card, and I cursed myself for doing so. I was trying to bridge the gap between us, not widen it by being a pompous ass.
“Don’t make me get a restraining order.” Her lips curled into a smug smile. “Of course, a stalking claim would be the least of your concerns if I went to the police.”
“But you haven’t gone to them. Why?”
“Because if I did, I’d have to tell them the whole sordid story. They’d know I was stupid enough to get taken in by a con artist not once, but twice.”
“If you feared for your safety, you wouldn’t be concerned about your pride.” I didn’t know why I was pushing her. I should just be grateful I was still a free man, but I wanted her to admit, at the very least, that she wasn’t afraid of me.
“Do you want me to go to the police?”
An elderly lady stepped off the elevator.
Maura’s demeanor changed instantly as she waved and smiled at her neighbor. “Hello, Mrs. Martinez. How are you today?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Just fine.” She clutched her handbag as she stared at me, squinting and pursing her lips. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so, ma’am.” I was taken aback by her intense perusal.
She eyed me like a tailor fitting me for a suit, from top to bottom and side to side, even peering behind me to check out my ass.
Maura stifled a laugh before clearing her throat. “Mrs. Martinez, this is the gentleman my father sold the building to. His name is Blaise Walsh.”
I looked at Maura, searching for some hint that she was uncomfortable using my alias, but her poker face gave nothing away. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I offered my hand to my new tenant.
“That’s where I know you from,” she said, ignoring my hand as she snapped her fingers. “You own that fighting thingy.”
I smiled at the term, surprised she’d recognized me. She wasn’t exactly our target market. “Warriors Fighting Challenge, and yes, you’re right. I’m the founder and C.E.O.” I caught a glimpse in the mirror of Maura rolling her eyes. I didn’t care if she was unimpressed by my title. I’d worked damn hard to get where I was, and no one, not even her, could belittle my accomplishments.
“My grandson lives with me,” Mrs. Martinez explained. “I can’t tear him away from the TV when those fights are on.” She clucked her tongue. “So violent, always a blood bath.”
“I’ve known Blaise a long time,” Maura interjected. “He’s never been averse to violence.”
I bit back the sharp retort I knew would put her in her place, but if she thought I would be her personal punching bag, she was delusional. “If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Martinez, Maura and I were just going to grab a cup of coffee at the café around the corner.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Martinez said. “My taxi’s probably
here anyway.” She checked her watch. “Oh my, I’d better hurry. I don’t want to be late.”
We watched her shuffle off before Maura said, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“We’re going to talk, so you have three choices. Either we talk in a public place where you’ll feel safe, right here where your neighbors may overhear, or upstairs in private. You decide.”
“Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do? You don’t own me.”
I sighed. I didn’t know why I expected her to be reasonable. “I’m in town because my private investigator gave me the contact information for the guys who helped build your parents’ pool house.”
She frowned as she clutched her mail against her chest. “Why would you want to contact them?”
“Because I think one of them may have been responsible for your attack.” I lowered my voice when a man wearing a suit and tie stepped off the elevator. His eyes lit up when he waved at Maura, prompting me to glower at him to discourage him from approaching.
“That was rude,” she hissed, folding her arms.
“I don’t care. We’re in the middle of something important. He can make a date with you on his own time.” I cursed myself for letting jealousy seep into my statement. God, I was so obvious when it came to her.
“What makes you think he wants to make a date with me?” she demanded, watching the suit pass through the glass doors to the street.
“I’m not blind. I saw the way he looked at you.”
“Really? How’s that?”
“The same way I look at you.” I knew she wouldn’t appreciate that comment.
“Don’t.” She held up her hand before slipping her keys back in her purse. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Fine.” I reached for her arm. “But you’re going to hear my theory about what happened that night, so you decide where you want to talk.”
“Why do you think I’ll believe anything you say?” she asked, shaking off my hand. “You’re trying to shift the blame to someone else because you’re not man enough to admit what you did to me.”
I was getting pissed. For years, I’d been accused of being a sadistic monster. I’d tried to hold my temper, telling myself the truth would come out, but hearing those words slip past the lips of the woman I loved was more than I could handle. “I. Didn’t. Do. It.”
She shrank back, obviously intimidated. “The police don’t agree.”
“I don’t give a fuck what they think. They’re wrong. And so are you.” I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Please, just give me fifteen minutes.”
“No.”
I could tell by her stubborn stance that she wouldn’t go down without a fight, but neither would I. This was too important to me. She was too important to me.
“Maura, you do realize the man who raped you is still out there, right?” I whispered, leaning in. “He could be living right here, in this very neighborhood for all you know.” I hated resorting to scare tactics, but that seemed to be my only option.
“He could be living in this very building,” she said, glaring at me. “I could be looking right at him.” She narrowed her eyes. “For the record, I hate the contacts. Your eyes are…”
“They’re what?” She’d always told me my eyes took her breath away.
“Nothing, forget it. I have to go.” She brushed past me. “I have to get ready for a date.”
I grabbed her arm. “You what?”
“You heard me.” She looked at my hand clenching her arm.
I released her with a heavy sigh. “Who are you going out with?” I hated the thought of her seeing someone else, but I had no right to stop her.
“None of your business.”
“I know that, but I asked anyway.”
Her eyebrow quirked at my admission. “Fine, if you must know, I’m going out with a former client. I planned his parents’ anniversary party. Now his sister’s getting married, and he’s thinking he’d like to hire me to plan their wedding, as his gift to them.”
“So it’s a business dinner?” That made me feel marginally better.
“Did I say that? Technically his sister and future brother-in-law would be my clients. Josh would just be footing the bill for my services.”
“You’re trying to antagonize me,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’re trying to make me jealous.”
“You’re crazy. Why would I do that?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
I could tell she was lying by the way her eyes darted to the mirror as she licked her lips. As much as I hated the thought of her going out with someone else, I took solace in the fact we weren’t as far apart as I’d feared. “You wouldn’t be baiting me if you were really afraid of me.”
“I’m not baiting you. I’m simply stating a fact. I’m trying to move on with my life, and I suggest you do the same.”
“What if I can’t?”
She was already walking to the elevator. She stopped and turned to look at me. “What are you talking about?”
“What if I can’t rest knowing the prick who hurt you is still out there? What if I can’t sleep until I know he’s behind bars and can’t hurt you again?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “God, you’re good. You almost have me convinced you’re sincere.”
At least that was progress.
“I guess that’s how you managed to lure me in, isn’t it? Because you’re such a good liar.”
Okay, maybe progress was too strong a word. “You don’t have to believe me, but for your own sake, talk to me. Tell me what you remember about that night. Anything. Everything. If we put our heads together, maybe we can figure this thing out.”
Maura swallowed, looking nervous and uncertain. “Come to my office in the morning. We can talk there, but don’t think it means that I’m on board with your… claim. I don’t know what to think yet, but I haven’t discounted the possibility that you’re responsible.”
“Fine, I get it.” I watched her walk to the elevator and punch the button before I said, “Maura?”
“What?”
“I hope your date bores you out of your mind.”
“Oh, shut up.”
***
I arrived at Maura’s office at nine sharp, though she hadn’t specified a time. Her date had brought her home a little after ten. I knew because I’d happened to glance out the window and spotted them getting out of his car, a late-model gray Lincoln. Even his car was safe and boring.
She looked up when I tapped on her door and opened it a crack.
“Oh, I didn’t expect you so early.” Taking her reading glasses off and setting them on the desk, she said, “Come in.”
I stepped inside, holding up a tray containing two coffees and chocolate croissants. Chocolate croissants were always one of her favorites. “I thought you might like to start your day with one of these.” I handed her the bag before removing the cups from the tray and setting them on the desk.
She peered into the bag before looking at me. “It’s unnerving.”
“What is?” I sat across from her.
“How well you know me.” She took the croissant out of the bag and set it on a paper napkin before passing the bag back to me. “I look at you and see…” She sighed, rubbing her fingertips over her forehead. “This, I don’t know, public figure who has his face splashed across TV, the Net, and magazines with all these beautiful women. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re the same guy I fell in love with in college.”
“I am the same guy,” I said, trying to distract myself with the pastry. Her voice had been soft, without the hostile edge I was becoming accustomed to, and I didn’t want to say or do anything to set her off again. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I’d be lying if I said prison doesn’t change a person.”
She seemed startled by my candor, and her eyes met mine. “It must have been horrible.” She swallowed. “How did you get through it?”
I tried not to think about my years in prison. If I allowed myself to dwell on it, I’d get angry all over again, and since I couldn’t change the past, there was no point. “Like I said, I had a plan. I knew what I wanted to do when I got out. I became obsessed with the business I wanted to build… and clearing my name.”
“Did you…” She hesitated as she peeled back the lid of her coffee cup. “Get into a lot of fights with other inmates?”
Unlike others who had spent years in prison, I hadn’t been traumatized by the violence inside. Fighting had always been a part of my life, so even the biggest and toughest prisoners didn’t scare me. I knew my training would allow me to take them when their only weapon was their fists.
“Well, did you?”
“I made it clear right away that I wasn’t going to take any shit. A group of guys jumped me in the shower my first week.” I chuckled. “I took all four of them out. Sent one to the infirmary for five days. After that, the guys gave me a wide berth.” I took a bite of pastry as she watched me, seemingly mesmerized. “The odd new-comer would challenge me, thinking he was a bad-ass because he was in for murder or whatever, but guys like that always fall hard. Once you put them in their place, they don’t come back looking for more.”
“I can’t imagine what it must be like,” she said, bringing the cup to her lips. “How people survive in places like that.”
“It’s the mental torture that gets to you more than anything.” I couldn’t believe I was confiding in her about the darkest time in my life. Since she was the only one who knew my real identity, she was the only one I’d ever been able to talk to about my time in prison. It was strange, kind of cathartic. “Knowing you could spend the rest of your life holed up there, trying to ignore the fact that your dreams could die with you and the world would think you were just a worthless piece of shit who did all the things you were accused of.”
Maura stared at me intently, obviously processing everything I said and trying to decide whether or not she could believe me. I knew she wanted to, but I couldn’t blame her for having reservations. I’d lied to her and deceived her. That wasn’t easy to forget or forgive.
