by Barker, Kira
Ray waited another few moments to make sure that the elevator was gone for good, then walked over to the obsolete landline and called reception, informing them to revoke the agent’s status as guest. He hung up and paused before he turned to me, studying me with more seriousness than I had given him credit for in the past.
“That statement. Every word if it is true, isn’t it?”
I waited for some taunt or other, but when it didn’t come, there was no reason for me not to reply. I held his imploring gaze easily.
“Do I have any reason to lie?”
He took a moment to digest that—before he shrugged it off. I started to see why Darren thought him trustworthy enough to plaster him to my side.
“And still you came back. Makes one wonder just how much of a number he pulled on you to accomplish that. But far be it from me to judge.” He chuckled. “Who am I kidding, of course I’m judging you. But you never gave a shit about that, so why start now? I certainly like that new attitude of yours. Not giving a shit about what anyone thinks of you, really. Seeing you cower like you were at that cocktail party where you and me had our little heart-to-heart? Embarrassing, really. I prefer the new Penelope. I’m almost sorry my wife informed me she’d castrate me if I ever got too close to you again. Would be fun to let you bust my balls.” He turned away, looking around the room. “Anyway. You’re here, you either killed the girl or helped him cover it up, and now it’s my pleasure entirely to make sure you’ll get away with it. Oh, the irony. Would you mind spending the night elsewhere? I’ll have to have the entire suite checked for bugs. Your phones and other electronics, too. You’ll get the SIM cards back, but I’m afraid you’ll have to replace the hardware. I’m sure Darren will have suitable replacements ready for you, trackers and all pre-installed.”
There were so many things I wanted to shout at him—and not just to defend myself—but I knew that my calm and collected nod was a lot more annoying to him than anything else.
“No problem. Any preferences where I should stay in the meantime?”
“I’m quite sure that Darren could use some company. After all, he has to pretend to be grieving now, and that must be twice as pleasant between your legs than on his own.”
What, oh what had I gotten myself into?
But now it was too late to change things, and too late for regrets. So I nodded again, handed him my phones and tablet, and left. I wasn’t sure if I would spend much of the day with a need for clothes—after all, Darren still had most of my old ones stashed at his place. How convenient.
Chapter 21
Taking a cab over to Darren’s was like a morbid trip down memory lane, right down to the moment when the door opened just before I could reach for it, and I found myself confronted with James’s ever-present sneer. And like in the good old times, I beamed right back at him before I strutted into the house, idly wondering if he would, once again, have my underwear and dress dry-cleaned.
Ah, the good old times.
“He’s waiting in the library for you,” James informed me and was gone before I could say anything. Not that I’d wanted to—and his abrupt demeanor spared me a potentially awkward conversation—but I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about this… reminiscing. My stomach certainly did a few flips as I went upstairs and on into the library. The last time I had been in that very room had ended with a prick in my neck, followed by the worst days of my life.
And still I was here, to throw my lot in with the man who was responsible for it all.
I couldn’t even say I regretted it, and that scared me more than anything else.
Darren looked up from where he had been perusing something on his computer screen. He was dressed casually, which for him meant a dark polo shirt and khakis—what he would have worn to the country club on any other Sunday. He certainly had that acting like nothing happened down pat.
I couldn’t suppress a shudder as I entered, all too conscious of that would-be break-up conversation that we’d had that fine summer day so many months ago.
“For the record, I don’t think I would have actually run,” I offered, sure that he was well aware along what lanes my thoughts were meandering.
He took that in with a pensive look on his face. “I can see that now,” he agreed. “But back then, not so much.”
“You do know that I know that I shouldn’t be here today, right?”
He shrugged as he got up, turning his computer off. “Sanity is such a fluent concept. I think it’s highly overrated.”
Exhaling slowly, I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing at the shelves around us. Like in the bedroom, he hadn’t changed anything I’d brought in here, either—not even the framed picture of me from a few years ago that sat on his desk. I figured it was a recent addition, but still.
“Do you really trust Ray with our secrets?” I asked.
Done, Darren stepped up to me, his sheer closeness making me yearn for his touch. Mirth made the corner of his mouth twitch. “Trust him? Hell, no. But he’s smart enough to be afraid enough of the consequences. And just consider how much more he can gloat at everyone now, knowing what he does and all of them none the wiser?”
Rather than wait for my reply, he reached up to gently cup my cheeks before he kissed me, a slow yet intense “I’m glad you’re here” if ever I’d gotten one. I felt myself melt into his touch immediately, and as much as that gave me pause, it was easy to ignore my mind’s scream for caution. Darren had had so many chances to kill me had he wanted to—and I was so tired of running. Of constantly looking over my shoulder. Of always being afraid. Was it insane to give in? Yes. But if insanity felt this good, why should I fight to stay sane?
Not surprisingly, we spent the remainder of the day—and most of the following night—catching up on all those months that at least I had spent in deadening celibacy. Parts of it felt so achingly familiar that it was hard to remember why there’d been a rift between us. But things had shifted. Things were different now. I could feel it in the way he touched me. See it in the way he looked at me. For the first time in our lives, I felt like we were completely open and honest with each other—and that was liberating in and of itself.
Come Monday, I had to face reality again, in the form of Detectives Donahue and Wessex knocking at the door with some additional questions for Darren. I kissed him goodbye right in front of their puzzled faces and skipped down the driveway to the cab that was already waiting for me there. Just a day ago, Brigitte had told me to take my time to get my shit together. I fully intended that by tonight I would be back in the saddle, to rule the city that was rightfully mine.
Of course, things didn’t go quite that smoothly. For one thing, there were the two panic attacks that happened, one before lunch, the other later in the afternoon when it hit me again what I’d done. It reminded me awfully of the first weeks of my flight with Adam, only that now the cause was a different one, obviously. I also had to wait until two in the afternoon for my new phones, and Ray insisted on coming over to personally go over all the things I shouldn’t comment on without him present—which meant pretty much everything, and when he was there, he would answer for me. I hated that arrangement, but I could see where it was a useful one. It kept me from another visit to the precinct, which I was glad for, so I didn’t protest.
I tried working on my real job for a while, but Brigitte had practically jumped at the opportunity to grab the reins for another few days, leaving me with way too much time on my hands. So I did the next best thing and started browsing all the listings my realtor had emailed me in the last couple weeks. I was sure that Darren had no issues with continuing to pay for my residence here, but as I didn’t need this all-exposed, terribly overpriced option anymore, I might as well invest some of my hard-earned money and carve out a home for myself.
I knew that moving in with Darren was an option, but after my extended stay in that basement I had absolutely no drive to remain at that house for any longer than the occasional distracting sleepover.
It was on Friday morning, almost exactly a week after that event that had kicked off that latest downward spiral when I returned from my morning swim to find a letter waiting for me. It didn’t look like an invitation, and I frowned at the slightly smudged, handwritten scrawl of my name and residence. When I sliced it open and fished out a stack of lined papers torn off a legal pad, it only took me a moment to realize that the letter was from Adam.
That I really hadn’t seen coming.
I considered shredding it without reading it first. Then I considered reading it, then shredding it. In the end, I sat down with my morning fruit bowl and a cup of steaming coffee and slogged my way through line after line.
It took even more deliberating whether to call the number he had included at the very end, and I felt like I was dooming myself when I did. He picked up on the first ring.
“Penelope?”
I couldn’t help but snort. “Does anyone else have the number to your burner phone?”
He answered with a throaty chuckle that was so achingly familiar that I wished I hadn’t called.
“Course not.” He paused. “Can we meet? Please? I don’t want to do this over the phone.”
“Because this line is tapped?” I guessed.
“Likely by more parties than you think exist,” he offered. “That’s why I wrote you the letter in the first place.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I admitted.
“Please,” he continued to plead with me. “For old times’ sake, okay? Do that one last thing for me?”
“You mean before they throw you into a deep, dark hole? Or because I couldn’t come through with rescuing you?”
His silence was answer enough, but at least he tried to keep his voice clear of scorn as he replied. “Just one more time, okay?”
“Can you even go outside to meet somewhere? With or without a tail?”
Another heavy silence followed. “Things have changed since—“
“Since you started fucking Eva?” I ventured a guess.
I heard him mutter a low curse, but he replied nevertheless. “Do you even care?”
“I’m your friend, Adam. Of course I care. And even if I can’t stand the woman doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy. If she’s the real deal—”
“You know that she’s not,” he said—and that statement was enough to make me run cold. I couldn’t explain why, but something about how he said it just rubbed me the wrong way. That reaction was saying a lot, considering what else I was more than ready to ignore—but then again, that was likely just my latent guilt talking.
“When do you wanna meet?”
“Today, if you’re free,” he proposed. “Milton Lee Olive park.”
Fact was, I had nothing better to do, and I owed him a last, personal goodbye. I was well aware of what this was supposed to be—what he thought was his last chance to persuade me to ditch Darren once and for all—but I owed him that, too. He had been there for me when I really needed him, and he had never asked for anything in return. The least I could do was give him the chance to spit in my face. Last time on the terrace with the entire team barely out of earshot just hadn’t done the trick.
I hung up after we settled on a time and exact location, leaving me anxious with too much time on my hands.
I knew that this wasn’t an occasion that required a special outfit or even makeup, but I felt kind of obliged to doll myself up. Adam had seen me at my worst by far, but if this was the last chance we got to talk, I figured I should make it count. It was a dreary day outside, spring still weeks away from breaking winter’s hold on us, so my choices were limited. I still went with a short dress so my black, opaque tights would be visible that made my legs look great, with knee-high boots to round out the ensemble, going perfectly with my coat. I went for a classy cat-eye and red lips, and even curled my hair although half of it would be hidden underneath my cashmere cap. It was probably evil to try to look my best, enforcing what exactly it was that he could never have, but he likely didn’t expect anything else from me. Deep down I knew that to everyone except Darren I would always remain the shallow if expensive high-class hooker. It was probably that more than protection or comfort that had pulled me right back into his arms.
I was early, but Adam was already waiting for me, dressed casually in a parka, jeans, and boots. His face was slightly red, making me guess that he’d been out in the open for a while longer than me, his short, black hair standing up in disheveled spikes as usual. My heart gave a brief pang at his happy smile when his eyes fell on me. In another world, without so many things happening, we might have had a chance. But things had happened, and that was a dream that had never been my own.
“Thanks for coming,” he greeted me with. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.”
“I try not to break promises that I can keep,” I offered, wincing at how hollow the platitude sounded.
We hugged, and his embrace was a little too strong, going on a little too long to be strictly friendly. In turn, I felt a little less weird about patting him down, even going as far as reaching for his junk.
“That’s all me, no wires attached,” he said, trying himself at a bad joke.
“I’ll believe that only if you tell me exactly how you got out of detention,” I shot back, but kept my hands to myself now.
Adam nodded down the path leading to the waterfront, and we started walking toward where ice was still claiming parts of the lake.
“It wasn’t as hard as you may think,” he explained. “Just took a promise and some begging. With some people that still is enough.”
I wondered what that was a jab at, but did my best to ignore it. “Very well. You wanted to talk. So, talk. I’m listening.”
Rather than launch into what I expected to become the most epic of epic guilt trip speeches, he continued to look straight ahead, avoiding me. “I still can’t believe that you flipped,” he finally said, ending the silence. “Not because I think you were out to save the world. I’m not delusional. Or not that delusional. But the things that man did to you, and you go right back into his bed…”
There it was, after all. I exhaled loudly, watching my breath plume out ahead of me in the cold air.
“You don’t have to remind me of that. I live it again and again, every time I fall asleep.” It was only when I said this that I realized it had become a lie. Since killing Daliah, I had a new favorite sequence to haunt my every sleeping moment.
“How can you stand his touch?” he asked, his tone becoming more vehement. “He all but raped you. He tortured you. You know exactly what he would have done to you if you hadn’t managed to escape, because you saw them. And now you’re, what, playing house with him?”
Phrased like that, there wasn’t really anything I could say to my defense.
“Guess I’m damaged beyond repair, right?” I quipped, hugging myself.
Adam stopped and turne
d to me, his face scrunched up. “Don’t ever say that about yourself.” Looking at me closely, the worry in his eyes increased. “You can’t fucking believe this! Penelope, you’re a great woman! You’re smart, and you’re beautiful, and there are so many guys out there who’d do anything for you if you’d just let them…”
“You mean, you would?” I said.
Adam exhaled noisily, but the glimmer in his eyes hadn’t even taken a hit at my slightly chiding tone.
“Yes. I would. I thought I already proved that to you, but clearly, the message hasn’t sunk in enough.”
I had to look away, my heart breaking all over for him.
“Adam, it’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” he asked.
I shook my head, forcing myself to catch his gaze again. “Because I simply don’t love you. I’m sorry. I tried. But I don’t. And you deserve someone who’s so much better than me.”
Now the light shining in his eyes dimmed, but the anger that started seeping into his tone was of a different quality than I’d expected.
“Stop putting yourself down. You’re a goddess among peasants. There’s no woman out there who can hold a candle to you.”
“Not even dear Agent Smith?” I taunted.
He went rigid, but then relaxed. I really didn’t like the mood swings that were lurking behind those bright eyes. He’d always seemed so mellow and relaxed around me, the calm alpine pool I knew I could retreat to. Now he appeared almost frazzled.
“She’s a woman of many merits, but she’s only that. A woman. While you are—“
I held up a gloved hand before he could say that nonsense again.
“You need to give up on that dream. Whatever you see in me, it’s not real. I mean, sure, of course I like hearing your confidence in me. But there never was anything between us that went beyond friendship, and there never will be. That’s ultimately why I jumped at her offer when she hunted us down. To cut you free. To give you the second chance that you deserve.”
