“I blamed myself, you know.”
She fought a sigh. Had he asked to see her only so he could make himself feel better? Maybe there was nothing wrong with that, but it summed up most of their relationship. He’d been selfish. A taker. Not a giver.
Maybe some things never changed.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Jason. You obviously had nothing to do with the actions of Dante Torres and his men.”
“But if I’d been there—”
“What ifs mean nothing. We can’t change the past. We can just learn from it.”
He lowered his gaze. “I wish we could. I would do things differently.”
“We could all say that.”
“I suppose you’re correct.”
She studied him another minute, looking for a sign of sincerity. Mostly what she saw was superficial and polished—far from authentic. “Is that the only reason you wanted to meet with me?”
“The whole experience has opened my eyes to some things.” He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I still care about you, Mallory.”
She flung her hand back, nearly knocking over her water. She could hardly catch her breath when she looked back up at him.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she muttered.
“I shouldn’t have—”
“No, don’t apologize.”
Awkward silence fell between them. The server finally came and set their food on the table, breaking up the tension with her perkiness.
She watched as the woman gave Tennyson an extra wide smile. Tennyson seemed unaffected by it, which brought Mallory an unexpected satisfaction. She really needed to get that thought out of her system. There was nowhere healthy it could go.
“Mallory?”
She turned back toward Jason. How long had he been talking to her? She wasn’t sure. Her thoughts had been on Tennyson.
She picked up her spoon to take a sip of her soup and cover her social faux pas. “Yes?”
“I know it’s too much to ask to pick up where we left off.”
“Yes, it is.” There was no need to let him think any differently. As awkward as it might be, it was best to speak honestly now.
He shifted, sweat trickling down his forehead. “I hoped we could at least try.”
She licked her lips, trying to choose her words carefully and gracefully. “Jason, though I’ve forgiven you for what you did three years ago, that doesn’t mean I’d ever want to be together again. You broke my trust. You abandoned me when I needed you most.”
His cheeks reddened. “I was young and stupid.”
She still wasn’t convinced that he’d changed. “What are you doing with your life now, Jason?”
The red deepened. “I’m prepping to take over my father’s company one day.”
“Does that mean you’re working?”
“No, not yet. But I’ll have time for that later.”
She leaned toward him, trying to get to the truth. “What are you doing here in Atlanta?”
He tugged at his collar. “You know I’ve always loved the Atlanta Hawks. They had a game.”
“You didn’t know I was going to be here?”
He shrugged and let out a forced chuckle. “Well, okay. Maybe I did know that.”
She wondered exactly what his motivations were. Did he truly think the two of them could pick up where they left off? He couldn’t be that naive. “Are you dating anyone?”
“No one serious.”
In other words, he still didn’t want to be tied down.
She’d had enough beating around the bush. There were questions she’d wanted to ask for the past three years—things she didn’t want to talk about on camera. “Did you hear anything that night, Jason?”
Her question seemed to startle him. He looked dazed for a moment, and then squinted. “What?”
“That night, when I was abducted. You had no idea it had happened?”
“No, of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Jasmine—what was her last name again?”
“Reynolds.”
“That’s right. Her room was right down the hall. I would think you’d have heard the commotion.”
“Are you trying to say that I heard something and ignored it?” His jaw flexed, and anger lit his gaze. His food remained untouched.
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. I’m trying to comprehend the events of that evening. There’s always been something off about it.”
“I already told you. I was with Jasmine. I regret it. I’m sorry.” He took a long sip of his wine.
“You would have died if you’d been with me that night, you know.”
His shoulders looked tighter than before. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
The night flashed back to her. “It’s just that, those men were pretty loud. You said you were shocked when you got back to the room and saw what had happened. How is that possible if you were right down the hall? The police were on the scene not long after.”
His nostrils flared, and his hands clenched into fists. “Are you accusing me of something?”
She raised her hands, urging him to calm down. “I didn’t say that. I’m just asking questions. Why are you getting defensive?”
“All of that stuff you said on camera wasn’t true, was it? You didn’t mean a word of it. It was just for show.” His gaze trapped her, demanded answers, even accused.
Mallory sensed Tennyson bristle at the next table. She glanced over, and he looked ready to pounce if need be. Maybe it was only because she knew he was here and close that she’d had the strength to have this conversation.
“It wasn’t for show, Jason. I’ve just had more time to process our conversation.”
He locked his jaw and sneered. “I thought you were different.”
“I am different.” Why was this turning into her being the bad guy? Memories of their time together flashed back to her. He’d always been that way, hadn’t he? She’d forgotten.
“I’m sorry I ever thought we could pick up where we left off.”
“Me, too, because that was never going to happen.” She kept her voice soft, but her words honest.
With heat simmering in his gaze, Jason tossed his napkin on the table and stormed off.
One thing remained certain in Mallory’s mind: Jason knew more than he wanted to let on. As soon as she’d asked him about his whereabouts on the night she was abducted, he’d gotten defensive. He was hiding something.
She needed to figure out what.
CHAPTER 24
With Logan and Kori following behind, Tennyson drove Mallory to the TV station. He waited to see what Mallory had to say about her meeting with Jason.
He wanted to tell her about Narnie and about Walter Boyce, but he didn’t want to fluster her before her TV interview. He would tell her as soon as they got back to the hotel tonight, though.
In the meantime, he’d e-mailed a private investigator friend of his to look into Logan’s background. He still hadn’t gotten a call back from Logan Hagen’s reference with the Baltimore PD. The man’s resume was impressive, his employer was well-known, and Logan seemed to be a stand-up guy. But again, Tennyson had to cover all his bases.
“Was I too hard on him?” Mallory finally said.
“On Jason? No. He needs some accountability.” Someone like Jason had to hit rock bottom before he’d learn any lessons. Tennyson had seen his type before.
She raised her hands, palms up. “Is it just me, or does his story not add up? I mean, how did he not hear anything that night?”
“Those are good questions. Did he talk to the officials in charge of the investigation? They probably questioned him.”
“I would imagine. Also, I’m not sure I buy the idea that Jason wanted to get back together or that he came all the way here for me.”
Nor did Tennyson. He planned on keeping an open mind as to who was behind everything that was going on. He hadn’t ruled out Jason, Grant, or even Ethan. Nor had he eliminated the possib
ly of Torres being alive, Sanchez being involved, or Inferno having its sights on Mallory.
“I’m probably reading too much into things,” Mallory finally said. “My therapist says I have trust issues.”
He remembered what Stone had said about women coming out of human trafficking never being the same. He didn’t completely buy that. Sure, they might not be who they used to be. But they could still go on to live productive, happy lives.
“Everyone has trust issues in their own way,” he told her.
“Even you?”
Claire flashed into his mind. Maybe one day he’d tell Mallory about Claire. He never really spoke about her or about what had happened with anyone. But there was a part of him that wanted Mallory to know.
“Yeah, even me,” he said.
The words played on his lips.
Tell her.
Before he could open his mouth, Mallory gasped.
“What is it?”
She squeezed the skin between her eyes. “It’s . . . it’s nothing. Just my eyes playing tricks on me.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“It was Torres, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “In that car up there. The white sedan.”
He gripped the wheel, remaining rational and in control.
“What are you doing? You’ve got to follow him,” Mallory said.
“My job is to keep you safe.”
“We can’t let him get away. I have to know if that was really him. Please.”
He kept the car at the same speed.
“Tennyson . . .”
He let out a breath and then accelerated. But traffic was heavy. He maneuvered around several cars, trying to get closer, but brake lights lit the street ahead.
“What if someone is dressed like Torres and trying to play with your head?” Tennyson asked. “What if this guy is the one who’s behind the murders following you across the country? If he’s the one who shot at me last night? Who left the perfume?”
She rubbed her temples. “This is a nightmare.”
He wove into another lane, but traffic stopped. He couldn’t get closer to the white sedan—not safely, at least.
“It’s okay,” Mallory said. “It was probably just my eyes playing tricks on me.”
But was it? He didn’t want to put Mallory in danger.
But neither of them could seem to get away from it.
Mallory finished the interview and let out a sigh of relief.
She’d been on tour for less than a week, but she already felt exhausted. She’d had no idea how draining it was to be on the road, to be in the public eye, and to always be “on.” She still had nearly three months of this schedule. It would take her all the way into the summer. Hopefully then she could recuperate.
If she was still alive.
She shuddered at the possibility that she may not live through this.
The reporter, a perky woman named Alice, extended her hand. “Thanks so much, Mallory. You truly are an inspiration. I know our viewers will connect with your story.”
“I appreciate you sharing it,” Mallory said. “If I can help even one person . . .”
She stood and wiped her hands on her dress. Grant waited at the edge of the room, no doubt evaluating and critiquing every word she said. Certainly she’d hear later what she could have done better. His brain was always working like that.
Tennyson stood near one door, Logan stood at the other, and Kori remained near the stairway in the hallway. Three security guards.
The reality of the situation hit her again. How had she gotten to this place?
She envisioned what it would be like to be home. No, she didn’t want to be at home. She’d never feel truly comfortable at her parents’ old house. There were too many memories. But she imagined what it would be like to be at her own home. Maybe by the water. Somewhere quiet.
The image filled her with warmth.
That wasn’t a reality right now. Right now, she had obligations to fulfill. Later, maybe she’d dream more about that little seaside hideaway. Maybe by the bay.
“You ready to head back?” Grant asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Maybe we can grab some food to take up to the suite for dinner. I’d like to take it easy tonight.”
Tomorrow they’d be traveling to Orlando.
Another thought remained at the back of her mind: Would there be another body here? She couldn’t stomach the very idea of it—of people dying wherever she went. Yet she didn’t know how to stop it, or what to do about it. Did she stop trying to advocate for these victims? That seemed like a shame within itself.
She needed to pray some more about it.
While Tennyson went to get the car, Mallory nodded toward the restroom in the hallway. “Let me make a quick stop, and I’ll meet you out here.”
Kori checked it out before she slipped inside, thankful for a moment alone to compose herself. She went to the sink and splashed some water in her face.
The reporter had asked her some hard-hitting questions. Had questioned her relationship with her parents. Her upbringing. Asked detailed questions about her time with Dante—questions that were supposed to be off-limits. She’d tried to gracefully skirt her way around the questions, fully aware the camera was recording her every move and every word.
She could already feel the scrutiny that came with vulnerability. She didn’t like it. But if that was the worst thing she had to experience right now in her life, then she was doing well. When you’d lived a nightmare, you learned to take things in stride. Most of the time, at least.
Behind her, she heard a scuffle in one of the stalls and froze.
She slowly turned, holding her breath.
She saw no one.
Carefully, she peered under each of the stall doors, checking for feet.
No one else was in here.
She let out her breath. She must be hearing things.
She turned back toward the mirror, grabbed a paper towel, and wiped the water from her face. Would she ever be able to live in any state other than paranoia? She wasn’t sure. She’d liked to think so. She had to believe it was a possibility.
“Everything okay in there?” Kori yelled from the hallway.
“Everything’s fine,” she called back. “I’ll be out in one minute.”
With one last glance toward the stalls, she started toward the door. She heard another scuffle.
She froze again. What was that? Was someone hiding in the stalls?
She’d checked. She hadn’t seen anyone.
One thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out.
Mallory waited with Grant, Logan, and Kori in the marble-lined lobby of the TV station for Tennyson to pull up with the car. Though the space was luxurious, it was also small. A fountain took up the center part of the room. There were two elevators on one side of it, and a reception desk against the back wall. Two security guards stood at the front, checking everyone with a metal detector as they came in.
Mallory scooted closer to the wall as a group of high schoolers came in. They were apparently going to film some kind of special for the station on the fifth floor.
She swallowed hard. The lobby felt crowded, and she was jostled back and forth.
“Tennyson should be here any minute,” Kori said. “A group of a hundred high schoolers weren’t on our security plan for today. A detail that somehow got left off the information the station sent us.”
Mallory nodded, pressing herself closer to the wall and wishing she could get out of here. “I know. Thanks.”
“Maybe we’d be better off waiting outside,” Logan said.
“Tennyson told us to stay here,” Kori reminded him.
“Maybe I should call him.”
Logan seemed nice enough, Mallory supposed. But he wasn’t Tennyson. The fact that she felt such an easy, quick bond with Tennyson frightened her. He hadn’t let her into his head, even. Who kne
w what he was thinking? Besides, she had to stand on her own two feet, not with a man by her side. Not that any man would want to be by her side, not with a past like hers.
“Good job with the interview back there, by the way,” Logan said.
She crept closer to the wall and finally felt its cool marble behind her. She breathed a little easier. “Thank you. It doesn’t really get easier to talk about. Not yet, at least.”
“It’s a marvel that you’re talking about it all. Most people want to bury those parts of their lives.”
“I wish I could. But it never stays buried for long, does it?”
“Sure enough, a storm will come along and expose what the dirt once concealed. You’re right.”
She smiled, warming up to the man slightly. At least he understood her a little. That was important.
Just then, the metal detector at the front began wailing. Mallory swung her head toward the sound, just in time to see a man darting past the security guards. The guards near the door tackled the man. Shouts echoed in the room as a sense of danger filled the air. The crowd scattered around her, and mass chaos broke out.
Logan reached out his arm to shield her.
Mallory held her breath as she watched the security guards restrain the man who thrashed on the floor. Just as they pulled him to his feet, the man seemed to get a burst of energy. He jerked away from the guards’ grasps and lunged toward the other side of the lobby.
“He’s got a bomb!” one of the guards yelled.
Before Mallory could process what was happening, an explosion shook the room.
A hand reached around her bicep. She tried to remember her self-defense moves, but everything happened too quickly.
Before she could react, she was pulled into darkness.
CHAPTER 25
Just as Tennyson pulled the SUV up to the entrance, he heard a rumble. He saw smoke. Heard glass breaking.
Something was wrong.
He threw the SUV into park and darted inside, praying everyone was okay.
Praying Mallory was okay.
He stopped inside the doors, quickly observing the chaos around him. Smoke filled the air. Sections of the wall were missing. People cried.
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