Page 108 of Ruthless Intent

“I’ve just spent fourteen years inside a prison cell. One I never thought I’d ever leave. I thought I’d die in there.” I stroke a finger over the gold. “It changes your outlook on things.” My voice is soft. Every word is the truth. “One of the biggest things it’s taught me is that you don’t know what might be around the corner. If you want to do something, want to have something, don’t wait. Grab it with both hands and live in the moment. Because who knows when it’ll be snatched away from you.”

I stand up.

“And I wanted her.”

CHAPTER SIXTY

ASHLEY

I take my time changing out of one T-shirt and into the other. The second I pull it over my head, I turn to look in the mirror hanging on the wall above the sink.

It’s just a T-shirt. He’s probably not even going to recognize it as his.

So why do I feel sick at the thought of him catching me wearing it?

The answer to that is obvious.

Because we’re not in a real relationship. I have no right to wear his clothes, and he won’t want to see me in them either. It’s just something else I’m taking from him without his consent.

But how can I refuse to wear it without it looking strange? He’s already hinted that we’ve been intimate, so why wouldn’t I wear his clothes?

There’s barely any color in my face. I look sick. There are dark circles beneath my eyes. And my head hurts.

I’m tired, exhausted in fact, and I don’t think I have the clarity of mind to face Heather’s sharp focus and be able to lie to her face convincingly about why I’m wearing a wedding ring.

This is a mess. I should never have come back home. I should have just stayed in the house I shared with my friends.

My friends.

Have they texted me? Tried to call me?

The sick feeling increases, and I alternate between hot and cold.

Neither Jessa-Mae or Karla are the type to accept my out of character behavior. If I don’t speak to them, if they think I’m ignoring them, they’ll turn up in town unannounced.

There’s a soft tap at the door.

“Ashley? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Pinching my cheeks in a pointless attempt to put color in them, I walk to the door and open it. Heather is standing in the hallway. Her eyes dip down to my hand, and my grip on the wet T-shirt tightens.

“Let me get that washed for you before it stains.”

I have to force myself to let go when she tries to take it from me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod. “It’s been an odd week.”

“It’s only Tuesday, honey.”

My laugh sounds a little hysterical to my ears. “I know.”

“Who are you married to? Does Zain know?”

“He knows.” I follow her back to the kitchen and sit down. Her husband glances up from his place at the end of the table, and smiles in my direction.

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