by Emma Slate
“No. We’re in a fight.”
“Why?”
I straightened. “Are you serious right now?”
“Completely,” he stated. “I don’t want to be in a fight, but you won’t talk to me. We’ll talk in the shower.”
“It’s time like these when I wish we hadn’t sold our New York apartment.”
“Why? So we can use it as the proverbial doghouse?”
“So I can have space away from you to clear my head.”
“Hen, please, can we just—”
“I’m showering,” I said. “But I’m not talking.”
Turning away, I climbed into the shower. I wasn’t done being upset, but I didn’t want to yell it out any more. Nothing good came from yelling. It was exhausting and fruitless. I closed my eyes and let the spray bathe my face. I felt Flynn behind me, but he didn’t touch me.
“I know you’re not weak,” he said softly. “Far from it. I saw what you did to Winters. A weak woman doesn’t do that. You’re fierce, you’re protective, you’re incredible.”
I reached for the bar of soap, pretending to ignore him, pretending I wasn’t hanging on his every word.
“I’ve seen what this life—my life—has done to you, Barrett. I know the things you’ve done and I don’t judge you for them, just like you don’t judge me for my past. You’ve found a way to live with what you’ve done. You’ve made your peace with it. But, hen,” he gently reached out to grasp my chin and forced me to look at him, “There are some ghosts you never lay to rest. There are some moments that change your life forever and there’s no going back. You’re not the same woman I met a few years ago. You’re different. You’re harder.”
I stared into his blazing blue eyes, the heat of the water pounding my shoulder blades, the pulse of my heart loud in my ears. “You were protecting me from myself, weren’t you?” I asked quietly. “Afraid what I might to, could do to that woman—a pregnant woman…”
It sickened me to think about it. I’d killed three men in cold blood. But killing a woman and her unborn child… I’d fantasized about choking Lila St. James. What had stopped me aside from the fact that we were in public? Would I have really gone through with it? Killed Lila, condemning her innocent child to the same fate?
I sank down into the tub and pulled my knees to my chest. How could have I fantasized about killing another mother?
Flynn sat in front of me, wrapping his large hands around my ankles. Water dripped down the sides of his face, his dark beard covering the angular cut of his jaw.
“Do you believe we have souls?” I asked him softly.
“I don’t know.”
“I do,” I whispered. “I believe we have them. And mine is black.” I pressed my forehead to my knees so I wouldn’t have to look into my husband’s eyes. I knew the truth. And so did he.
I wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman. But I could.
I was capable of terrifying things. We all were.
We dried off, skin wrinkled from being in the shower so long. Flynn and I hadn’t spoken since he pulled me up from the tub and I resumed scrubbing my body. I was exhausted. Anger had run its course, replaced by guilt.
“She shouldn’t have been able to get into the hotel,” Flynn said, finally breaking the silence.
I went to the dresser in the bedroom and pulled out a pair of underwear. “Well, she got into the hotel. Oh. I might’ve forgotten to mention that she said I had five days to pay her five-hundred thousand dollars, or she was going to the press.”
“She’s not going to the press,” Flynn said. “She knows the minute she talks, she’ll get sued for slander and I’ll bury her.”
“Then why did she come after me?”
“That, I don’t know. Maybe because she thought you were an easy mark, a woman who didn’t want her husband’s indiscretions known to the world.”
“But it’s not true.”
“She probably banked on you believing it. I don’t know how she was able to get to you in the hotel. Security was supposed to monitor and watch for her. If she showed up, she was supposed to be physically removed.”
“Seems someone fell down on the job,” I quipped.
“Or it seems one of my employees isn’t as loyal as I thought.” He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, but left his chest and torso tantalizing bare as he strolled across the room to retrieve his cell phone.
“Do you mind if I make a call?”
I shook my head and proceeded to get dressed. I didn’t listen to his conversation with Brad, not wanting to hear Lila’s name spoken. The woman disgusted me.
I heard Jen and Evie return from the park with the kids, but I couldn’t stand to see them. They were pure and innocent, and I wasn’t. The things I’d done, the things that I kept locked away so tightly were struggling to break free. Flynn was right. I was no longer the woman he’d married. Somewhere along the way, it hadn’t just become about protecting Flynn, protecting my sons. It had become about the rage. I had so much rage it threatened to choke me.
I hated Dolinsky. He’d kidnapped me, kept me a prisoner in his gorgeous mansion, seduced me with power and charm. He’d seen something in me that I hadn’t known existed. I hated that he’d uncovered my secret wants and needs. He’d rearranged the moral makeup of me.
The old me had died when Vlad did. And when I’d killed Dolinsky, I’d changed again. Power had rushed through me like lava. Liquid heat—and when it cooled, it had become something else entirely. The Barrett of now was cold, calculating, a weapon of mass destruction.
Weapons of mass destruction didn’t feel guilty. They destroyed. They annihilated. And that’s exactly what I was going to do to Lila St. James.
Chapter 19
It was two o’clock in the morning and I was sipping on a glass of scotch, looking through Lila St. James’s file. The children were asleep and so was Flynn.
“Find anything?”
I turned my head and saw Flynn standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His chest was bare and the flannel pajama bottoms sat low on his hips. I felt a coil of desire snake low in my belly. Anger and desire. It would always come back to anger and desire.
“No, I didn’t find anything. But you knew that already.”
Flynn pushed away from the doorway and entered the living room. He took a seat next to me on the couch, resting his arm on the top of the cushions, but he didn’t touch me.
“You haven’t forgiven me yet,” he said quietly. “For not telling you the truth about Lila and what she wanted.”
“No, I haven’t forgiven you. You think I’m out of control. You think I would’ve killed a—Jesus, Flynn, I still have morals. I still have a code of ethics.”
He looked at me, blue eyes intense and raw. “Who are you trying to convince, love?”
“Would you still love me?”
“Yes.”
I paused, staring at the glass of scotch in my hands. “I hate this woman,” I said softly. “I hate that she wants to destroy you, us. But she’s pregnant. And one thing I don’t do is murder the innocent.”
I slammed back the rest of my drink and finally looked at him. “You know that. You know me. So what I don’t understand is why you’re using me as the excuse, as the reason, for not telling me that Lila wanted money.”
Flynn remained steadfastly silent.
“What are you hiding from me, Flynn?” I asked softly. “It’s yours, isn’t it? The baby.”
He got up off the couch and went to pour himself a glass of scotch. His silence was deafening. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach swelled until I thought I was going to be ill.
“Not mine,” he said, retaking his seat.
“Then whose?” I whispered.
He sighed. And then I knew. “Oh, God.”
“You can’t tell her.”
My eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“Barrett, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“My best friend’s husband knocked up another woman,�
�� I hissed in low tones. “And you want me to be able to look Ash in the eye and pretend I don’t know anything? How the fuck did this happen? If you tell me it was a one time slip up, I’ll hit you.”
“It was, though,” Flynn said. “Duncan came out to visit and one morning he woke up in bed next to Lila. Six weeks later I get a call from her because she wanted to track down Duncan to tell him she was pregnant. I asked her what it would take to keep it quiet. I gave her money, and she signed an NDA.”
“Does Duncan know?” I asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“The night of The Rex opening, she was there for Duncan, not you.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him, understanding coming to me. “You would’ve been prepared to take the fall for his indiscretion. And he would’ve let you. Why?”
“Because this will destroy Ash and Duncan. She’s not like you, hen.”
“You might be surprised,” I said. “Ash has stuck by me through a lot—”
“You and I both know marriage is different from friendship.”
“She’s my family.”
“And Duncan is mine.”
I sighed. “You really were trying to protect me—from having to lie to my best friend.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for making you doubt yourself, or doubt me.”
“She’s still going to go to the press,” I said, interrupting his apology.
“I know,” he said quietly. “Money won’t silence her. A lawsuit threat won’t stop her.”
“But why go to the press and claim you as the father?”
“Because I’m in the public eye and going after me will do serious damage. To my reputation, to my business…”
“So if it's not money she wants,” I said. “What is it?”
“That I still haven’t figured out.”
“Well, we have four days to figure it out otherwise she goes public and our lives blow up.”
“I’m working on it.” He moved a fraction closer to me and rested his hand on my thigh.
“Don’t touch me,” I said.
“What? Why?”
I shook my head, a slight smile on my lips, but there was nothing funny about the situation. “You lied to me. Manipulated me. Kept secrets from me. Because you put Duncan first.”
“You wouldn’t have done the same thing for Ash?” he demanded. “You wouldn’t have kept things from me if it meant protecting Ash?”
“I would’ve trusted you with everything, Flynn,” I said quietly. “Because we are a team. But you can’t be on a team by yourself.”
I stood up slowly, Flynn’s hand falling from my leg. “When did we stop being a team, Flynn?”
Flynn went back to bed, and I left the hotel. I walked the streets of Manhattan. The early morning was quiet except for the sounds of delivery trucks. Bars had been closed for hours. Everything felt lifeless, dead. I would never be able to look Ash in the face and she would know something was wrong. I wanted to maim Duncan. I hated that he’d stepped out on Ash. I hated that a child had been conceived and there was physical proof of a one-night stand.
I understood why Flynn had wanted to keep me in the dark—so I wouldn’t have had to lie to Ash and pretend I knew nothing about the secret love child her husband had created with an opportunistic gold digger. While Ash had been dealing with a miscarriage, Duncan and Flynn had been covering up Duncan’s mistake.
As the sun rose, I found myself at a coffee shop in the Meatpacking District. I ordered a scone and an Americano and sat in the corner. It was quiet except for the grinding of beans for the occasional espresso. It was still too early for most of the city to be awake and there wasn’t even a trickle of steady customers yet.
He walked in at a quarter to seven dressed in exercise clothes. His blond hair had grown out, long enough to fall across his forehead. With a smile and few bucks in the tip jar, he took his to-go cup of coffee. Just as he turned to leave, he saw me.
Shaking his head, he walked over and took a seat across from me. “You’re far from the Upper East Side—and it’s not even seven o’clock.”
“Your coffee shop has good pastries,” I said.
“So does The Rex Hotel.” Sasha took a sip of his coffee and then filched my untouched scone.
“Did Quinn stay the night with you?”
“Quinn’s in Boston and she isn’t speaking to me right now,” he said.
“You don’t sound concerned about it.”
“I told her everything.”
“Everything,” I repeated. “Jeez.”
“Not just about you and me and Dolinsky. But about my childhood. Things I never talk about.”
“I don’t know anything about your childhood,” I said. “And I never thought to ask.”
“I never thought to confide.” He shrugged. “Quinn asked for space to think about it all. Your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Why are you here?”
“I told you. The pastries.”
He gave me a knowing look. “Flynn?”
I nodded.
“What did he do?”
I shrugged.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think I can. It’s not just about us.”
“SINS business?”
I shook my head.
“Personal business?” he tried again.
“Yeah. Sort of. It’s weird. And complicated.”
“Is it forgivable?”
“In time. I think.”
The coffee shop was picking up in customers and I knew the morning rush was well on its way. It prevented me from asking questions not meant to be asked in public.
“How long are you going to be in town?” he asked.
“A few weeks probably,” I said. “Flynn wants to be here while the burlesque club gets repaired.”
“You should check out my new lounge. You and Flynn.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
“And I’ll come by and see the boys. After I drink a lot of caffeine and eat a lot of sugar.”
I laughed. “Right? Welcome to my world.” I looked at my phone and saw that I had a few missed calls from Flynn. “I need to get back.”
We headed out of the coffee shop and were met with street traffic and bright sunlight. Sasha embraced me, kissing the top of my head.
“Lunch this week?” he asked.
“Yes, definitely.”
I stepped away from him and lifted my arm to hail a cab. “Thank you,” I said to him.
“For?”
I smiled and for the first time since last night, it was genuine. “For being you.”
Chapter 20
Flynn was having breakfast when I got back to the penthouse. He was dressed in a three-piece suit and he’d shaved. His beard was gone.
It felt like a slap. He knew how much I loved the beard. Flynn was back to looking like dominant hotel mogul. We were a long way from Dornoch where Flynn dressed in trousers and wool sweaters. His persona was back in place, and for some reason it made me sad. Incredibly sad.
“Hi,” I said, my eyes raking over him. I moved into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee.
“You never came to bed,” he said.
“I walked around the city. I needed time to think.”
Flynn looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs. “Figure anything out?”
I shrugged.
“Where you were?”
I leaned against the counter and gripped my mug. “You know where I was.”
“I have an idea. You always run to him when you’re mad at me.”
“I didn’t run to Sasha,” I protested.
“I won’t do this with you, Barrett. I know we fight, I know we disagree, but when you feel I’ve wronged you, you go to him, because you know it guts me.”
“It guts you? It guts you? In choosing Duncan, you didn’t choose me. Somewhere, in your mind, you thought you were doing me a favor—”
“It was D
uncan’s mistake!” he yelled, shooting up from his chair. “It wasn’t my secret to share! Why can’t you understand that?”
“Oh, I understand that,” I sneered, stalking towards him. “But you should’ve come clean with me the minute I told you Lila came to me for money. You didn’t. Instead, you told me I was different, and you were worried for me about what I might do to that money-hungry bitch.”
“I fucked up!” he shouted. “Okay? I fucked up! I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I made you doubt yourself, I’m sorry I made you doubt me. Christ, am I sorry.” His face was bleak, his eyes full of pain.
I set my cup of coffee on the counter and went to him. I threw myself into his arms and felt my strong husband tremble.
“Did I lose you?” he whispered against my hair. “Did I drive you away?”
Did I drive you into another man’s arms, he didn’t ask.
“No. Never,” I vowed, pressing myself to his chest, trying to get closer, trying to burrow into him so we were one.
“I won’t be able to handle it,” he said. “If you went to him to get back at me.”
I leaned back so I could look into his eyes. Tortured blue gems, startling in their intensity, their heartbreak. “I didn’t go to Sasha to get back at you.”
“Does he give you clarity?”
“I don’t confide in Sasha anymore.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “He’s in love with someone else and our relationship has changed. For the better. I did go to the coffee shop across from his apartment and we did talk. But I didn’t tell him anything.”
“It’s Sasha. He knows you. He knows when something’s going on with us.”
“True. He didn’t press.” Reluctantly, I stepped away from Flynn. His arms dropped from me and he waited.
“I need to say something to you, and I really need you to hear me.” When he nodded, I took a breath and went on, “You’re loyal. It’s both a blessing and a curse. It’s why you kept Duncan’s secret from me. Because it wasn’t for me to know. It wasn’t any of my business, Flynn. I know that—rationally. Emotionally, I felt like I was left out of the club. I behaved… well. You know.”
“Barrett—”
