He was still the same Jason on the outside: five feet ten inches with a stocky build. His brown hair had a hard part on the side, a trendy style that she would have loved three years ago. Now, she thought his jeans were a little too tight and his T-shirt too silky.
She stood as he walked into the room. The two paused in front of each other.
This was the first time they’d seen each other since that fateful night more than three years ago. Mallory had thought he would be one of the first people to rush to meet her after what had happened. But maybe guilt had held him back. Maybe he was self-absorbed. Mallory didn’t know, and she tried to reserve judgment.
Reluctantly, she stepped toward him.
“Mallory . . . ,” Jason muttered.
“Jason.”
They embraced quickly.
“It’s good to see you,” Jason whispered.
Mallory nodded but didn’t return the phrase. “Please, let’s sit.”
The cameras rolled, catching every minute.
Mallory stared at Jason, trying to keep the contempt out of her voice. Maybe it was a good thing there were cameras rolling because, as much as she’d tried to tell herself that she’d forgiven Jason, bitterness rose inside her now as she stared as his all-too-pretty face.
Jason tugged at his pant legs, rocking from one side of the seat to the other. His facial muscles were tight and drawn, and his voice sounded slightly high-pitched. “You look great.”
Of course Jason would start with a comment on how she looked. He’d always cared too much about appearances. Then again, at one time she had also.
“Thank you. How have you been?” She figured she’d start with something basic. It seemed better than jumping in with “How could you have left after what had happened? Did you look for me? Did you even care?”
“I’ve been . . . hanging in.”
The reporter gave some kind of little spiel that was meant to put them at ease and set the stage for the rest of their conversation. Mallory hardly heard a word she said, though. All she could think about was this conversation. She wasn’t nervous. No, she just wanted answers.
“Where would you like to start, Mallory?” Dana asked.
“Tell me about that night, Jason.” Mallory had told herself she would ease into the conversation, but she hadn’t wanted to waste any more time. Her questions pressed at her with an unrelenting urgency.
Jason’s neck muscles visibly strained. “That was a rough night.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, appearing slightly self-conscious—a trait he’d rarely shown before.
“What happened to you?” Every detail of that night was etched into Mallory’s brain. It felt like it had happened just yesterday. But she’d never heard Jason’s side of things.
Mallory could feel the cameras moving in closer, but she didn’t care. She wanted to know.
He broke eye contact and looked at his hands. “I did some things I wasn’t proud of, Mallory.”
She waited for him to continue.
When he didn’t say anything, she started with “You disappeared.”
Finally, he raised his head. “I did. We got into that argument earlier in the day, at the party.”
“We did. I thought you had a wandering eye.”
He shifted and wiped sweaty palms on his jeans. “I did have a wandering eye. I was supposed to go back to your family’s suite that night, but instead . . . I met a girl.”
Mallory expected to feel anger, but she didn’t. His words came as no surprise.
“I was mad at you and determined to do my own thing. I knew I was acting like a jerk, but back then, I didn’t care. I stayed out late, partying.”
“What was her name?”
His cheeks flushed. “Her name? It was . . . it was Jasmine.”
Jasmine. Jasmine had probably saved his life. Mallory was sure he’d thought about that before.
“When did you come back?”
He swallowed hard. “I got back to the suite around four a.m. I walked in and saw the whole place had been destroyed. I had no idea what had happened. I called the police, and they showed up around ten minutes later.”
“What were those ten minutes like?” Dana Cavanagh asked, her gaze intense as it slid back and forth between Mallory and Jason.
“Horrifying.” He swept a hand through his hair. “When I saw the mess, I kept going through worst-case scenarios. It turned out they were all correct.”
Dana leaned closer. “After Mallory’s parents were found, did you assume, like everyone else, that Mallory was dead, too?”
“I did. It just made sense. I couldn’t believe it when I heard she was alive.”
“How did you move on after that night, Jason?” Dana asked.
“I just did my best. I stayed in the Caribbean another week. My family met me down there. We kept hoping that Mallory would be returned . . . alive. It all seemed like a bad dream. But it wasn’t.”
“What kind of questions did the police ask?” Dana pressed.
His jaw flexed. “Everything under the sun. I had to verify my alibi and make my case several times that I wasn’t involved in this.”
“Why would they think you were?” Dana’s eyes lit up.
He shrugged, this time actually tugging on his collar. “Don’t they always look at the people closest to you first? My family owns one of the largest technology companies in the world—of course we’re going to be scrutinized. It wasn’t a fun time.”
Why did he look so nervous? He was always the one who enjoyed being in the limelight, and Mallory had assumed this would be no different.
He leaned forward, sweat beaded across his forehead. “I waited for a ransom demand. I was going to pay it to get Mal back. But it never came.”
“You became somewhat of a celebrity after her disappearance,” Dana said. “You were featured in magazines. You went on TV. You even wrote a book on it.”
“It was all to get Mallory back. After we thought she was dead, it was to preserve her memory.”
His words didn’t ring true to Mallory. Unless Jason had changed, he’d never been that selfless. Most likely, he wanted to cash in on his fifteen minutes of fame.
She hated to think so little of her ex-boyfriend. But he’d always had a hunger for popularity and money. People and their well-being were near the bottom of his list.
Jason turned toward her. “I guess the main reason I wanted to meet was to tell you how sorry I was. For everything.”
“Why’d you wait so long?” The words burned her throat as she said them.
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me. I knew you were going through rehab. Then I wasn’t sure how to find you.” He shrugged. “All excuses, I know. But I’m glad we could finally talk. I’ve thought about this moment for a long time.”
The conversation meandered along after that, mostly a blur to Mallory.
Finally, the reunion ended. Just in time because she wanted to go lie down and take a nap. It would take her a while to process all of this.
After Jason thanked everyone and said good-bye, Mallory walked him toward the door. He paused there and leaned close to her, his voice low.
“I really am sorry, Mallory, and I hope you’ll forgive me.” His eyes seemed pleading, but there was something else there also, something hard to identify.
Did he deserve to be forgiven? Did it matter if he deserved it or not? Mallory had needed him, and he hadn’t been there for her. Over and over again.
She raised her chin. “I’m working on it.”
“There’s one thing that’s bugged me since that night, Mallory.”
Her heart rate quickened. “What is it?”
He leaned even closer. “That night at the party, before everything happened . . . I saw your dad talking to Dante Torres.”
CHAPTER 11
Mallory blinked, certain she hadn’t heard correctly. “My dad? No. That’s impossible. Why would he?”
He shrugged. “
I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out either.”
She glanced behind her to see if anyone else was listening. Everyone else seemed distracted—except Tennyson. Even from across the room, she could feel him watching them.
“Did you tell the police?” she whispered, turning back to Jason.
He shook his head, his eyes crinkling as if the idea was absurd. “No, of course not. I didn’t want to betray your father like that.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. Her father talking with Dante Torres? Why would he do that? She couldn’t come up with one single reason.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“I wanted you to know. I’ll keep it quiet. I know how this could ruin your family’s reputation . . . the business.”
Her mind whirled as he walked away. It wasn’t her family’s reputation or business that she worried about. It was her father’s integrity.
Her father would never align himself with someone like Dante. The crime had been random. It had been because the family was wealthy. Because Dante had seen Mallory while she was dining at a restaurant with her family. He’d realized she looked like his first wife, and that delusional side of him had kicked into overdrive.
Not because her dad was crooked. Or had betrayed him. Or anything else.
“Look, here’s my card in case you need anything,” Jason continued, his voice low. “Anything at all.”
As Jason sauntered away, Tennyson appeared at her side. “That’s over.”
She nodded, trying to bring herself back into the moment. “Yes, it is.”
“How do you feel?”
How did she feel? Like she wanted to crawl under a rock. But she couldn’t let on to that. Nor could she do anything to implicate her father. Not without cold hard facts. Maybe not even then.
“I’m just glad it’s done. I can cross that off my list.”
He studied her until she squirmed. He knew there was something she wasn’t sharing. It unnerved her that he could read her that easily.
“All right, you two.” Grant’s voice sliced through the room, an unnecessary amount of rosiness in his tone. “How about we get an early dinner?”
Mallory forced herself to smile and nod.
But all she could think about was her conversation with Jason.
Tennyson stared at Mallory as they sat across the table from each other at an upscale Italian restaurant not far from the TV station. The scents of cheese and garlic wafted around them. Lively music played overhead. The lights were dim enough to add atmosphere but bright enough to see by.
Grant rambled on and on about the reunion, muttering things about how it would make for great TV. Mallory’s eyes looked glazed, as if she didn’t hear a word of it.
A break from the babble came when the waitress delivered the food: chicken scampi for Mallory, lasagna for Tennyson, soup and salad for Grant.
The savory scents made Tennyson’s stomach growl.
“How do you think the reunion went, Tennyson?” Mallory asked, picking at her food.
He lowered his fork and cleared his throat, surprised that she wanted his opinion.
“It’s hard to say,” he started. “Some people would say it will make for great TV. How do you feel about it?”
She frowned. “I thought I’d forgiven Jason. Some old feelings—some hard feelings—came to the surface, though.”
“It was a pivotal moment for you.”
Something unsaid stretched between them, a moment of understanding.
“Well, I think it was a great move.” Grant’s voice snapped them out of their unspoken conversation. “The public is going to eat it up.”
“Some things aren’t meant for the public to witness,” Tennyson said.
Grant narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”
Tennyson put his napkin down. “I’m just saying that there are more important things in life than PR opportunities.”
Before the conversation could spiral out of control, his cell rang. Agent Turner. Tennyson excused himself and slipped toward the bathrooms, anxious to hear if he had any updates.
“What’s going on?” Tennyson kept an eye on Mallory to make sure she was both safe and nowhere close enough to listen. The last time he’d spoken with the agent, he’d requested to be the point of contact in his investigation, and Mallory had agreed that it made more sense than having Grant as the contact.
“I thought you should know there’s another body.”
His spine stiffened. He wished he’d heard incorrectly, but he knew he hadn’t. “Another body? Where?”
“Norfolk.”
It didn’t take an expert to put it together. The first body had been in Cape Thomas. The second in Norfolk. Those were the first two stops on Mallory’s tour.
His jaw clenched as he let that news settle in his mind. “Was she branded?”
“She was. A circle with a flame, again. Inferno.”
His stomach sank. The threat against Mallory was becoming more and more overt. None of this was an accident or coincidence. The message was clear: Mallory was in danger.
“How’d she die?” Tennyson asked.
“Strangled, just like the first woman. We’re still trying to identify both of them, but they appear to be foreign. They haven’t matched anyone in the missing persons database.”
“What can I do?”
“Besides keeping an eye on Mallory? Not much. Speaking of which, I’m going to need to talk to her again.”
Tennyson glanced across the restaurant at her. She and Grant were chatting, but Mallory looked less than enthused. When she learned this news, it would be one more blow to her psyche. “I know.”
“How about if I come down tonight?”
“I suppose that’s just as good a time as any. I’ll let her know you’re coming, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
As Tennyson hung up, he felt a knot in his gut. The storm brewing in the distance was only growing stronger by the moment, and he needed to solidify his plan to keep Mallory from becoming drenched in the downpour.
After dinner, it was time to meet Kori Burns, the new guard Tennyson was bringing on. He’d told Mallory a little about the woman. She was a former police officer who’d been married to another Navy SEAL. Tennyson seemed to think highly of her, and Mallory was anxious to see if she shared his opinion.
As they walked into the hotel lobby, Mallory spotted a woman in the distance and knew it was Kori when the woman’s face lit up when she saw Tennyson. The two met with a brief hug.
Were they just friends? Mallory wondered. And if they were more than friends, why did that thought cause a surge of jealousy in her? That was ridiculous. She didn’t want a relationship. Someone like Tennyson should be taken and happy. He was a hero, and he deserved to be happy. To have what Mallory never would.
Mallory observed the woman. She was petite—much smaller than Mallory imagined a bodyguard to be. But her eyes were lit with fire. She had glossy brown hair that curled near her shoulders.
Something about her appeared tough. Maybe it was the way she carried herself. The confident set of her shoulders. The definition of her muscles. The no-nonsense outfit she wore—black utility pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt.
The two stepped back from the warm hug. Again, a touch of envy panged in Mallory’s heart. Would she ever be able to share that kind of affection with someone? It was so abandoned and free . . . so unlike Mallory, who tensed whenever someone even started to touch her.
“Mallory, this is Kori,” Tennyson said. “Kori, Mallory and Grant.”
They all shook hands.
“I’ll debrief you later,” Tennyson said. “For now, let’s get up to the suite.”
“I’m going to run to the store down here for a moment.” Grant nodded. “I’ll meet you up there.”
Part of Mallory was relieved that Grant was giving them a moment. It would allow her to breathe easier and not worry about the building t
ension she’d felt all day. Tennyson had made it clear at dinner that he didn’t approve of Grant’s methods.
“I’m honored to be a part of your team,” Kori started as they walked up to the suite. “I admire what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.”
“Kori has extensive experience as a bodyguard. She even guarded Lady P,” Tennyson said. “So don’t let her size deceive you.”
“Lady P?” The singer used to be one of Mallory’s favorites, back before her life had been turned upside down.
“I mostly had to protect her from herself,” Kori said with a smile.
They stepped into the suite, and Tennyson indicated that he planned to leave Mallory with Kori while he checked out the space. As Mallory cleared the hallway, she froze.
Tennyson paused near her. “What’s wrong?”
Mallory scanned the room, trying to pinpoint the cause of her alarm. Like many of the rooms and suites she’d stayed in, there was a living room in front of her, complete with a leather couch and two armchairs. A kitchen area was to one side and a bathroom to the other. Three bedrooms branched off from the main area.
“Mallory?” Tennyson repeated.
She stared at the room again, looking for something that was out of place. There was nothing. The pillows on the couch were fluffed to perfection. The chairs perfectly tucked under the table. Each of the bedroom doors was closed.
“I’m not sure what’s wrong,” she finally said.
Tennyson stepped closer. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head, wishing she had more answers. “I don’t know, Tennyson. My gut is telling me that something’s different.”
He surveyed the space also. “I’m sure housekeeping has been here.”
“It’s not that.”
“Let me finish checking everything out. Kori, stay with her.”
Mallory watched as he drew his gun and snapped into guard mode. Carefully, he opened the door to her room and disappeared inside. He emerged a moment later, but said nothing. Instead, he searched Grant’s room, his own room, and then the living room.
Distorted Page 9
