Page 118 of Ruthless Intent

She gives a quick nod, and I reach inside for her suitcase, and then press one hand to her back. Her spine snaps taut. She doesn’t like me touching her.

But I do. It feels good.

Shaking my head to dispel those thoughts, I guide her inside and up the stairs.

My room is the third door along the hallway on the upper floor. I open it and step back to allow her inside first, then kick it shut behind me. She flinches before her spine stiffens, and she throws her shoulders back.

“I’ll leave your suitcase on the bed. Bathroom is through that door.” I wave a hand to the left wall.

“Can I have my phone?” She doesn’t turn to face me.

“What for?”

“If I ignore my friends, they will turn up. I don’t think you want that to happen.”

I consider it. I don’t really care if they show up or not. And once tomorrow’s interview airs, I doubt a phone conversation will stop them. Not if they’re real friends of hers. Not that it’ll matter. They can’t change what’s happened, or what’s coming.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on it. You don’t have any missed calls or texts.”

“They’ll still think it’s strange that I haven’t called them.”

“You can call them later. After dinner.” I cross the room and open the door to the bathroom. “Fresh towels are on the shelf. Toiletries near the sink. Come down to the kitchen when you’re done.”

“You don’t want to stand guard in case I try to sneak out or climb out of the window?”

“Where are you going to go? If I can find you in a forest, I can track you down in a small town.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t know what hate is, Firecracker.”

She whirls to face me. “I. Hate. You.”

“You’ve made that clear more than once. But you’ll still take a shower, dress, come downstairs, and play the role of a woman who fell headlong in love with the man she accused of murder.”

I walk to the door, then glance at her over my shoulder. She’s standing in the center of the room, fingers curled into tight little fists, blue eyes spitting fire at me.

“You’re my wife now, Ashley, don’t forget that. And you will behave like it’s the most important thing in the world to you.”

I walk out. Something hits the door as it shuts behind me, and the first genuine smile in years pulls my lips up.

Her spirit is a lot stronger than I ever imagined it would be. I wonder how long it would take her to break, if she’ll ever break. A couple of days ago, that was the sole outcome I wanted. It was the only plan I had. It would have been the perfect revenge.

My parents are both in the kitchen when I go downstairs. Mom is at the stove, and my dad is behind her, leaning forward and whispering in her ear. They’re both laughing quietly.

I stand in the doorway to watch them. This is something I remember from my childhood. Something I’d walked in on Jason and Louisa doing more than once.

A sharp pain goes through my chest. My friends will never cook together again. Never dance around the kitchen. Never be the parents they were so excited to be.

I swallow, force my face into some semblance of normal, then clear my throat.

“Am I interrupting something?” I’m thankful that my voice doesn’t break.

“Zain! I didn’t hear you come home. Where’s Ashley?” Mom turns in my dad’s arms and smiles at me.

“I showed her up to my room. She’s taking a shower, then she’ll be down to join us.”

“You didn’t offer her the guest bedroom?” Her smile fades.

---