Page 54 of Ruthless Intent

“Ash? Is everything okay? Karla said you called her.”

“Hi, yes.” I glance over at Zain. “I … I need the number for the landlord.”

“Oh? Why? Is something wrong in your room?”

“No. I-I … I’m moving back home.”

There’s a long silence, and I check twice to make sure the call hasn’t disconnected. “Jessa?”

“I’m here. I’m just waiting for the punchline.”

“There isn’t one.”

“I don’t believe you. Something has happened. Is your mom okay?”

“Mom’s fine. I just need to let the landlord know, and then arrange for my things to be collected.” My voice shakes.

“Ash—”

“Can you please just give me the number?” Tears are burning my eyes. I’m not going to cry, but if she keeps pushing, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep myself from telling her.

She must hear something in my voice because she stops pushing. “Okay, alright. I’ll text the number over to you.”

“Thank you.”

“Is this anything to do with your call to Karla earlier?”

“Hang up.” Zain’s voice holds a warning.

“I have to go.”

“Ash, wait.”

“I’ll call you later. Don’t forget to send the number to me.” I cut the call, then turn to glare at the man beside me. “She isn’t going to accept that I’ve just decided to come home and stay here.”

He shrugs. “Tell her you’re getting married.”

“To the man I sent to prison?” I almost shriek the words. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is? No one is going to believe it. No one!”

“They will, if you play your part. And if you don’t …” Another shrug. “I don’t really care. You’re locked in now, and will do as you’re told.”

My cell chimes with an incoming message. When I check, it’s the promised number from Jessa-Mae, along with a warning that she intends on calling me to find out what is really going on.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers and closing my eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” Zain demands.

“I have a headache. Can this wait until later?”

“No. I want it done now, where I can see you doing it.”

My eyes snap open, and I toss my phone at him. It hits him in the chest, then falls onto his lap. “Then you do it, because I won’t.”

I throw open the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some air. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run.” My laugh verges on hysterical. “Where could I go so that you won’t find me? Apparently you have sniffer dogs who can track everything about me.” I slam the door before he can reply, and lean back against the side of the car.

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