Tainted Love Series Boxed Set

by Lily Zante

  A strip of pain shot through her, dispersing her new found euphoria. She called him back, needing to confirm.

  When it went to voicemail, she sent him a text. “Okay.”

  When it pinged back immediately, elation showered over her. “Can’t talk yet. See you later.”

  Maybe she could tell him now about the competition; she’d only found out this morning that he’d gone and scooped the runner up prize for Olympus and won two thousand dollars worth of camera equipment and some kind of workshop.

  She couldn’t wait to tell him.

  Grinning as if she’d just won an Oscar, she looked at her watch. She had just over an hour. Time to sit and daydream the wonderful possibilities that had now opened up to her.

  Chapter 45

  Tyler walked back to his apartment, his stomach much too full after the meal with Bailey. He didn’t usually overeat, but tonight, having bumped into Zoe with her date, he’d gorged on his food for comfort.

  He hadn’t stopped thinking about her and her date all evening.

  Now he saw that the kitchen light was on, and that she was probably expecting him to walk in and ask her all about it.

  No way. He walked straight into his room, needing to avoid her, and shut the door with relief.

  He’d come in after her—some date.

  He focused instead on the meeting tomorrow. He had a busy day with one of the magazines wanting him to come in and discuss the possibility of him working for them.

  Shrugging off his jacket he looked around. Something felt different. But he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He glanced around before his gaze settled on his bedside table.

  His watch rested on top.

  Bristling with curiosity, he walked over slowly, picked it up—tried to remember when he’d last seen it. He’d misplaced it somewhere.

  Had Zoe put it here? Odd, because he didn’t think Zoe would be the kind of person to come into his room when he wasn’t there.

  He looked around his room again. It was a feeling he couldn’t shake off. Without thinking, he looked under bed, like a child looking for gremlins. But there was nothing lurking under there.

  He dismissed his uneasiness and accepted the fact that Zoe must have found it and returned it to his room before it went missing again.

  He loosened his tie, then started looking through his cupboard for the suit he’d wear tomorrow. Bailey had let him have the day off; she was good like that.

  He looked through his rack of suits, trying to decide which would be most appropriate. He wanted to make an impression, the right impression. He had to look like a photographer but also a savvy business person.

  He looked at the piles of neatly folded Tshirts on one side and his boxer briefs and socks in a separate shelf underneath. Something had been rearranged in here but he didn’t know what. He sniffed the air and detected a faint trace of something sweet—something like honey, and amber.

  He shook his head, it wasn’t right, the smell, a heaviness in his stomach, the way the hairs on his arm bristled. But everything was here: his socks, his underwear, his Tshirts.

  And yet something looked odd.

  He tried to pass off the feeling as him being silly and getting overly paranoid.

  And that was when he saw it. Hanging to the side, just behind his shirts.

  The suit Margaux had made him try on. He owned nothing from that shop.

  And this wasn’t his.

  This was that suit and it was hanging in his cupboard.

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

  The bitch had been here…in his apartment, in his room, going through his things.

  For how fucking long?

  He lifted the suit out, his heart racing, trying to piece it all together…when, where, how, how many times?

  Christ, had she been here during the night, when they’d been sleeping? He looked over the suit carefully, and then a strip of white from the suit pocket caught his eye and he grasped at it.

  It was the missing photo of Zoe. Or, at least it had been that photo. Now it was scribbled over with heavy pen marks, and her eyes had been gouged out.

  “Zoe!” He ran from his room. “Zoe!” Then he heard the oven timer go off and he rushed into the kitchen.

  “Zoe—” He opened the door and felt a sliver of relief when he saw her, and then he froze and his mouth dropped open.

  Chapter 46

  She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail. But it wasn’t Zoe.

  “What the f—” He stopped; his heartbeat raced and a bitter taste shot through his throat.

  Margaux’s face stared back at him.

  She’d been baking bread.

  Lots of bread by the looks of it.

  Was that Zoe’s lipstick she had on? In his moment of panic, the one thought that came to him was that Margaux never wore that color before.

  Unable to find his voice, his eyes searched around frantically. Loaves of bread, five or six of them lay on the table. Beside one, a knife and a cutting board.

  Christ, had she been here all day?

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, moving toward her. “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “Please don’t be mad. Please,” she said, calmly. There was no trace of fear in her voice, or craziness.

  She’d never worn her hair in a ponytail before. And it reminded him of the way Zoe sometimes wore it.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled, looking at her as though she was a walking stick of dynamite.

  Margaux picked up the knife and sliced the bread with slow, deliberate strokes. Tyler reached for the phone, but his face turned gray when he saw the wire had been cut. In a panic, he scanned his eyes around the kitchen, looking for his cell. Dammit. He searched his pockets, glancing all over but it was nowhere in sight. He’d forgotten it this morning and had suffered all day because of it.

  “What have you done with Zoe?” he demanded savagely.

  “Here, try some.” She cut off a piece of bread and pushed it toward him. He pushed it away. “Where is Zoe? If you’ve laid a finger on her—”

  “Zoe’s fine. I just wanted us to spend some time together.”

  He stepped back, as though he’d touched a live wire. “Tell me where she is,” he demanded.

  “She’s fine. She’s waiting for you, about now.” Margaux looked at her watch.

  “What?” What was she talking about? He froze. “Waiting? Where?”

  “At the pier.”

  How did she know Zoe wouldn’t be working today?

  “I know she quit. I was there yesterday when she did it,” said Margaux calmly. “It was quite a scene. Her boss has no shame, making a scene like that in front of the customers. She was being very polite, in the beginning. And then she gave it to him. She has balls, I give you that.” Margaux carried on as normal, filling yet another loaf tin with dough.

  “What?” Tyler gripped the corner of a worktop, his knuckles white. “You’ve been following Zoe?” His voice raged with anger.

  Margaux popped the bread into the oven and set the timer again. “I couldn’t not be a part of your life, Tyler.”

  If he gripped any harder, he was sure he’d snap off a chunk of the worktop. He held his breath, a steely quietness holding him in check. The calm before he lost it with this freak.

  “I only went in to eat a pancake, I swear. It’s mainly you that I follow. But after yesterday, after she quit, I started thinking more about her. So today, I followed her again. Do you know she’s cheating on you? Do you know that? Ungrateful little guttersnipe.” She wiped her hands on a dishcloth.

  “You followed her? For how long?”

  “She met that man straight after class. He was waiting for her when she finished.”

  She must have seen the surprise on his face, because she said, “You had no idea, did you?”

  Tyler looked around again for his cell, it was here somewhere—goddammit. Alarming images swarmed around his mind. “If you’ve
so much as laid a finger on her—I swear I’ll kill you.”

  Margaux tutted, slowly, deliberately. “I haven’t touched her, I swear. I wouldn’t do that. I don’t need to. You’ll see how much she’s hurt you. Maybe now you’ll understand how that feels, to be abandoned by someone you love.”

  “Love?” Tyler almost choked on the word. “Is that what you think I feel for you?”

  Margaux gave him a reassuring smile, the type a doctor would give to a terminally ill patient, reassuring them that all was well. “You do, you just don’t know it yet. You’re misguided—you think she’s the one, but she’s not.”

  Taking in long, deep breaths to calm himself down, for he knew he had to remain calm, he said, “Zoe and I are just friends. She’s not a threat to you Margaux; she doesn’t mean anything to me.” His words were slow and forced, and he wanted to make sure they got into her head.

  “I followed them, and then I saw you with Bailey! Imagine that!” Her voice changed, her tone turning nasty. “You people won’t stop will you? You keep trying to make me think nothing’s going on. You keep trying to act out these little scenes with other people—do you think I don’t know you’re only trying to protect her?”

  What the hell was she talking about?

  “She went off on her date and you went off on yours. So I texted her, and told her that you’d meet her at the pier around nine.”

  “You did what?” But he’d heard her perfectly. He moved toward her slowly. “And why would you do something like that, Margaux?” He had visions of someone pushing Zoe into the water, making it look like an accident.

  “I wanted to buy us some time. I just wanted to know what it was like to be her…to be with you. I can’t stop it. This feeling, of wanting to be her. Someone you like. I wanted to have you look at me with desire, just once.”

  How the hell did she know? He moved back again, feeling suddenly afraid.

  Keeping his voice steady, he asked her, “What makes you so sure I like Zoe?”

  She let out a little giggle. “Your photos.” She took a loaf of bread off the cooling tray. “I think these are enough, don’t you?”

  His anger surged again and worry piled on worry as his thoughts raced back to Zoe. He grabbed Margaux roughly by her wrists. “Give me back my cell phone, Margaux.”

  “Don’t be mad. She’s fine. Why are you so worried about her?”

  He wanted to rip her smug little face off her smug shoulders. And then he did a double-take.

  She was wearing Zoe’s T-shirt. It was tighter on her, stretched across her chest.

  The whole thing. The ponytail. Zoe’s clothes. Her lipstick. Baking bread?

  “You’re crazy—a fucking freak.” He clasped his hands behind his head, and groaned. Not knowing where Zoe was, not knowing whether to believe this fruitcake. For all he knew, Zoe could be lying dead somewhere. He didn’t know what Margaux was capable of any more.

  He tried for diplomacy. “Look Margaux, this is nice—you doing this,” he waved his palm at the freshly baked loaves of bread. “Why don’t you let me call Zoe and we can sort all of this out?”

  She seemed to recoil from his words, and stopped slicing the bread. The knife shone like a warning light in her hands. “I know what you’re doing,” she hissed. “You think I’m stupid. You think I can’t see through your games. But why won’t you believe me? She’s cheating on you. You can do so much better than her.” She curved her fingers around the knife handle.

  Tyler stayed put. “No one’s playing any games with you, Margaux.” He looked at her face, and moved closer to her. “We had a good time, didn’t we? In the beginning? You remember?” He lowered his voice to a whisper.

  She looked at him and her eyes softened, became moist and glassy. She nodded. “You remember that?”

  He nodded, glanced at the knife, looked back to her face, smiled again. “You remember the dinners at L’Auberge? The shows at the Orpheum?”

  “You liked those?” she asked him gently. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “I loved those days.”

  “You made me feel like I was worth it,” she whispered the words so quietly that he struggled to catch them.

  “You were worth it—you are worth it, Margaux. We can have that back.” He looked to her hand and her grip had loosened.

  “You were the only one who thought so. You were the only one who treated me so nicely. Most of the others, they didn’t get past a couple of dates. That’s why I joined the agency. I wanted to know what it felt like to have something that lasted.”

  “I promise you we can have that back.”

  “Can we?”

  “Of course we can.” He walked past her, trying to look for his cell in case it was within arm’s reach. She took a few steps away from him, moving toward the direction of the door.

  “I wish you hadn’t just dumped me.” She tightened her grip again, her voice getting louder.

  “I didn’t dump you,” he said quickly.

  “You did though. You acted like I was a disease. You wouldn’t let me touch you, or get close. But you let Bailey—you let Bailey get close. You let her touch you. Why not me?” She snarled at him and her face turned ugly.

  Tyler thought quickly. “You know what girls like Bailey are like. They put out. You’re not like that. You’re—different, special.”

  “Liar,” her voice rasped. In a blink, she’d switched. He moved towards her but she moved back.

  “It’s true, I swear.”

  “Tyler! Tyler are you home?” He heard Zoe’s voice and in the next second, the door flung open and Zoe came hurtling through. “Is this some kind of a joke? I waited—”and she looked right at him since he was in her direct line of sight. Before she could turn her head, the door slammed shut, and Margaux was behind her. “Don’t,” she warned Tyler, just as Zoe turned around to see Margaux for the first time.

  Zoe gasped in terror.

  “Don’t come a step closer, or I swear I’ll do something you will hate me for,” Margaux threatened him.

  Tyler looked on helplessly as Zoe stood only inches from Margaux and he couldn’t take a step closer.

  “Sit down,” Margaux ordered, and when Zoe didn’t move, she shouted. “Sit down!” Zoe obeyed immediately, jumping at the sound of Margaux’s voice.

  Tyler saw the fear in her eyes, just as his scared eyes looked into hers. Margaux stood behind her, the knife poised in her hand.

  As paralyzed as he felt, Tyler wasn’t about to stand and watch Margaux do something stupid either. He started to take a step towards her, then stopped when she screamed at Zoe.

  “You weren’t supposed to come back yet. Why did you? Why?” Margaux screamed out. Zoe jumped in her chair.

  “I—I—” Zoe’s lips moved but she couldn’t get the words out.

  Tyler spoke then. “You wanted us to spend time together, remember, Margaux?” When she looked at him, he said, “So why don’t we let Zoe go, and we can be together again?”

  “You want it to be just you and me?” said Margaux softly. She lifted the knife, and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. Tyler nodded eagerly, then looked at Zoe to make sure she was okay.

  “If you could stay with me, forever. If it could just be you and me, Tyler. Imagine how happy we could be.”

  “I know.” He stepped towards her. “I think it could work. Just get her out of here, and we can start now.”

  “Why don’t we just get rid of her for good?” Margaux’s voice rose excitedly. “Imagine, Tyler. I could slip into her shoes; I could be her. Nobody would suspect a thing.” Margaux moved the knife blade closer to Zoe’s neck. “Just say the word.”

  He saw Zoe’s chest rise and fall rapidly, watched another tear slide down Zoe’s cheek. His breathing quickened, and time slowed down.

  And then he moved. He lunged toward the chair and pushed Zoe to the side.

  Chapter 47

  “Want me to get you a drink? Some hot chocolate, I know how you like that.” He tr
ied to cheer her up, his heart breaking into a million shreds as he watched her, sitting on the couch propped up with pillows and with her arm in a sling.

  She shook her head—they’d come back from the hospital just a short while ago, and her arm had been stitched up and was now in a sling.

  Tyler felt completely responsible for what had happened and the guilt stuck to him like glue.

  Try as he would he couldn’t stop going over the scene again. He’d pushed Zoe to the floor and out of the way, but in a last-ditch effort, Margaux had lashed out, and the blade had caught Zoe on the side of her right arm, just below the shoulder. The image of her lying on the floor in a fetal position, protecting her face and head, was forever imprinted upon his memory.

  As the blood leaked out on the floor around her, she’d passed out.

  He’d knocked Margaux against the wall, and thought the way was clear which was when he’d called the police from Zoe’s cell phone.

  But he’d underestimated Margaux; she’d gotten back up again and lunged at him with the knife. Luckily, she’d missed and he finally wrestled it away from her again before pinning her down into a headlock and smashing her head against the floor. He held her down until the police arrived moments later.

  The paramedics had dealt with the two women and then taken Margaux away. He’d gone with Zoe in a second ambulance so that the hospital could check her over.

  “Hey,” he said, walking over to her and crouching on the floor. He took her hand gently, “you go to bed. You need lots of rest.”

  When she complied so easily he led her to her room and sat her down on the bed but she was still shaking. Just looking at her in this way made his body tense with anger. He sat down on her left, and held her hand, then rubbed it gently, trying to soothe her. But what he really wanted to do was to hold her in his arms and keep her close.

  When she didn’t stop shaking, he didn’t ask her permission, he put his arm around her waist and felt her move towards him, her head limp against his shoulder. She seemed so fragile at this moment and he wanted nothing more than to protect her with his life.

  She snuggled her head just under his jaw and she still smelled of vanilla and roses—a scent he would forever associate with her.