by M. S. Parker
He hadn’t thought about me as anything other than a friend before...
He’d kissed me.
The memory shocked me.
I remembered, of course, the first time Jasper and I had slept together, how accepting he’d been of whatever I wanted to do with what had happened. I’d been the one to kiss him then and it had been impulsive. I’d been drunk and lonely, but I’d wanted him.
But that hadn’t been the first time we’d kissed. He’d kissed me before that. Two months before. Was it possible that the reason he’d done it, the reason he’d freaked out so badly afterwards, was because he’d been wanting to do it before Allen had died?
“You what?” The words were barely a whisper.
“I’ve been in love with you for eight years, Shae.” Jasper’s voice was as soft as mine, but he wasn’t looking at me. “But you were Allen’s.”
“Why...you...” This was not how I’d expected this conversation to go. Or any conversation to go for that matter.
“Like I said. You were Allen’s.” He shrugged. “And after...it just didn’t seem important.”
“Not important.” I kept staring at him as my brain tried to process what he was saying.
How could I not have known?
Had Allen known?
I couldn’t believe that Allen would’ve known and not said something, but how does a person tell his girlfriend – his wife – that his best friend is in love with her? If Allen had known, how could he and Jasper still have stayed friends?
But that wasn’t the point. None of this was the point, was it?
It didn’t matter what Allen had known or hadn’t known. It didn’t matter that Jasper’d had this...crush on me for years. Or even if he really had loved me. It didn’t change anything. I had to focus on the matter at hand.
Unless...
An icy hand squeezed my heart and I suddenly found it hard to breathe.
Jasper had been in love with me for years.
I had chosen Allen.
The fact that I hadn’t known it had been a choice didn’t really matter. I’d picked Allen, which meant I hadn’t picked Jasper.
For eight years, he’d wanted someone he couldn’t have. He’d watched me fall in love with his best friend. Watched us get engaged. Get married.
He’d watched the woman he said he loved get married to his best friend.
I couldn’t imagine how hard that had been.
And that was where the question came in.
Had it been too much?
Had all the years of watching and wanting been too much for him?
I’d always thought of him as this controlled, quiet man, but since we’d been together, I’d seen the passion in him, seen the intensity. Was it possible that it had been there all along? Bubbling under the surface and he’d simply snapped?
Had Allen come to him and said he’d thought he was sick...and Jasper had seen it as an opportunity?
The idea made me sick to my stomach, but I couldn’t stop it from taking root.
Had Jasper done the tests, seen that Allen was fine, but then thought that maybe this was his chance? Had he known his friend well enough to know that if Allen thought he was going to die a horrible, slow death, he’d end it? And if Jasper had known that, had he decided that the best way to get what he wanted was to tell Allen that he was dying?
It was too horrible to consider, but there it was.
Had Jasper wanted me enough to set in motion my husband’s suicide?
Had he maybe even suggested the option to Allen?
I swallowed hard and rubbed at my arms again, but the friction did nothing against the chill inside me.
“Jasper, tell me the truth. All of it.”
“I have.” He shook his head. “How can you not believe me? After everything...”
I looked down at the file and then back up at Jasper. He’d lied to me before. Now I was finding out that everything in our past was essentially a lie too. He’d pretended to be my friend when he’d always wanted more. How could I believe he was telling the truth now?
“Get out.”
He stared at me even though I knew he’d heard me.
“I mean it, Jasper.” I made my voice as hard as I could. “I don’t believe you. I don’t trust you.”
He flinched.
“Leave.”
He held my gaze for a moment and then turned around and walked away without a word. It wasn’t until the door closed behind him that I let myself give in to the tears.
Chapter 25
I didn’t sleep at all that night.
I’d already spent so much of the past five months crying that I hated it. I hated the physical feeling of it as much or more than the emotional part of it. But I couldn’t stop myself. I was torn up inside. I wanted to believe Jasper, but there were so many things stacked against him. And there was no way to find out the truth. Allen couldn’t vouch for his friend, couldn’t tell me if Jasper was lying or being honest. It was only Jasper’s word against the physical evidence I had.
I spent the rest of Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday morning curled up in my bed, staring into the darkness and wondering how I’d gotten here. How, in less than a year, had things gone so wrong? I was supposed to be with my husband, trying to get pregnant or planning for a baby. I wasn’t supposed to be alone in my house, crying over the betrayal of my new lover, my husband’s best friend.
My life was so fucked up.
When I thought about it, I had to admit that was a large part of why I was so upset. Things had just started to look like they were getting back to normal. Sure, there had still been a few things that still needed to be worked out, but it wasn’t the chaos and uncertainty of before. I had my home. No one was going to take that from me. I was teaching and the routine was familiar and good. Things with Jasper had been solid and we’d been falling into the rhythm of living together.
Now it had all gone to shit.
Again.
I knew I had to accept responsibility for parts of it. I had been the one to go through Jasper’s files and then read Allen’s emails. But, whether or not I’d done either of those things, the past had still happened. Allen had still believed he was dying and he’d still killed himself. Whatever Jasper’s role in that had been, it wouldn’t have changed if I’d left the box alone and never found out any of it.
My relationship with Jasper was my own fault though. The first night we’d slept together, I’d kissed him. I’d forgiven him after I’d gotten Allen’s letter in the mail. I’d been the one who’d kept asking him to come around since the beginning, simply because I hadn’t wanted to be alone. I’d been the one to push things forward. I’d asked him to move in with me. My heartbreak had been my own doing.
Now I had another choice to make and whatever happened as a result would rest solely on me.
It was that decision that actually kept me awake all night, not crying over Jasper and Allen. I had to decide what to do with the new information I’d stumbled upon. I hadn’t taken Allen’s letter to the police because I hadn’t wanted Jasper to get in trouble for falsifying Allen’s medical records. But now it looked like Jasper hadn’t done that. It had been Allen he’d lied to, not the insurance company.
All of the choices and possibilities ran circles in my mind as the minutes slowly ticked past. When it finally hit five o’clock, I knew there was no point in staying in bed any longer, no matter how much I wanted to pull the blankets over my head and forget everything that had happened.
Forgetting, unfortunately, wasn’t really an option. Even if I stayed in bed, I’d be constantly reminded that the bed was empty. That the two men I’d brought into it were gone.
I took a long, hot shower and the white noise of the water helped calm my thoughts for a short while. As soon as I climbed out of the shower, however, everything came rushing back. I knew the longer I waited to make my decision, the harder it would be. And if I did go to the police, I was sure that the detectives working Al
len’s case would find my delay curious. I knew at least Detective Reed was suspicious of me. I’d gotten the impression that he was the kind of man who had a chip on his shoulder when it came to women in general. I hoped Detective Rheingard was more interested in justice than blaming me, but if I kept putting things off, even he would have to wonder why.
It wasn’t until I started thinking about how the two detectives would react to me bringing in the letter and files that I realized I was seriously considering turning over evidence that could lead to Jasper being arrested for Allen’s death.
I sank down on the edge of my bed, my hand automatically continuing to towel dry my hair. Could I do that? I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Jasper had done anything, but the suspicions were there. Was that enough to possibly ruin his life? But if he had done it, didn’t I want to see him arrested, to see him pay for taking Allen from me? How much was justice for my husband worth?
That was the real question, I knew.
I’d told Jasper I didn’t trust him, to leave, and that might have ruined things between us for good, but there was always the possibility that I was wrong. That he hadn’t done anything and, in the far reaches of possibility, would still want to be with me.
If I went to the police, however, that slim chance would disappear, of that I had no doubt. It was one thing to react in anger and grief, another to make a deliberate decision that could ruin his life.
But if there was a chance that I was right and Jasper had set things in motion for Allen to kill himself, then I owed it to Allen to go to the police.
Didn’t I?
I buried my head in my hands.
When Jasper and I had first gotten together, I’d felt a bit guilty, but I’d known any feelings of having betrayed Allen had been residual. Allen was gone. Jasper was here. I hadn’t been choosing one over the other. I’d gone with how I’d felt. This, however, was making me choose. Justice for Allen or freedom for Jasper. That was simplifying it quite a bit since I had no way of knowing for certain what the outcome would be, but no matter what choice I made, I’d be putting one man above the other.
I cared about Jasper. I truly did. But the physical evidence was there. And I’d been with Allen for eight years. If Jasper was guilty and got away with it, I’d never forgive myself. But if he was innocent, surely the detectives would find that out. I’d lose him, but at least he wouldn’t be in trouble for something he hadn’t done.
I had to trust in the system, right?
Besides, how could the police run a thorough investigation if they didn’t have all the evidence?
I knew I was trying to justify it to myself, but the logical arguments were hard to push away.
I dressed and went into the office, pulling up Jasper’s email on Allen’s laptop. I printed two copies, putting one in the desk and taking the other one with me as I got Allen’s letter and made a copy of that. The copy went into the desk and the original joined the copy of the email. Once I had that, I went out into the living room and picked up the file.
My heart was racing as I walked into the police station twenty minutes later. The desk sergeant gestured towards the back, but I already knew where Reed and Rheingard’s desks were. I didn’t actually want to talk to either one, but I knew I had to give these files to someone and if I went straight to them, maybe they’d finally realize that I’d had nothing to do with Allen’s death.
“Mrs. Lockwood,” Detective Rheingard said as he stood.
Detective Reed was already on his feet, leaning against his desk, but he straightened as I got closer. He glanced over at the other detective, their expressions unreadable.
“I have some information that might be important.” I wasn’t about to tell them what I suspected. If Jasper was guilty, the detectives would find it on their own. If he wasn’t, they’d know that Allen had committed suicide. Either way, the case would be closed.
I held out the files and Detective Rheingard took them.
“We were actually just going to come see you,” Reed said.
My stomach twisted. That didn’t sound good.
Rheingard set the papers and file down on his desk and glanced at his partner. Reed nodded.
“Shae Lockwood,” Rheingard began. “You’re under arrest for the death of Allen Lockwood. You have the right to remain silent...”
The End
Don’t miss the thrilling conclusion in the final book, A Wicked Truth, release September 15th. Click here to get an email reminder on release day.
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Acknowledgement
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all the Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of the series.
I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.
About The Author
MS Parker
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.
