Page 85 of Ruthless Intent

Zain Ryder: Ashley? No. God, I wish she hadn’t seen it. I told her to look away. I told her to call the police.

Detective Holson: You chased her. You would have killed her too, if she hadn’t been on the phone to emergency services.

Zain Ryder: That isn’t true!

Detective Holson: Here’s what I think happened, Zain. You came home and found your girlfriend and best friend in bed together. They told you that Louisa is pregnant, and that they went into the city today to have their first scan. You flew into a rage. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and attacked them both.

Zain Ryder: No! I didn’t. I wouldn’t. They are my friends. I love them. I was happy for them!

Detective Holson: Zain Ryder, we’re arresting you on suspicion of murder.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

ASHLEY

For a brief moment in time, I forget that it’s my brother who died. That it’s my fault the young man on the screen was tried and found guilty.

My heart breaks for the boy being interrogated. The bewilderment and anguish is clear in his voice. The fear when the detective reads his rights. The devastation written across his face when he realizes that they don’t believe him.

When a hand comes into my vision and pauses the video, I’m taken aback.

How did I forget where I am? Who I’m with?

I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to compare the hard lines of the face on the man in the room with the broken boy on the screen.

“Are you ready to tell me why you lied?”

I close my eyes.

“The evidence is right there in front of you. You fucking lied. You stole my chance to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice is a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

A chair scrapes across the floor. I don’t want to open my eyes and look at him. I don’t want to know what he’s doing.

“Louisa was almost ten weeks pregnant. They went to the city because they knew the news would spread if they saw the local doctor, and they weren’t ready to announce it. I was going to gift them this house, so they had somewhere to raise their new family.” His voice is so conversational, like he’s talking about someone who just left the room. It twists my stomach into tighter knots. “They were so fucking excited. But Jason didn’t want to buy anything for the baby until nearer the time. He didn’t want to tempt fate.”

Something touches my arm, and my eyes snap open to find Zain standing beside me, a bowl in his hand.

“How does it feel, Ashley? Knowing that because you decided to frame me for their murder, it means the real murderer escaped?”

“I didn’t. I saw you with the knife.”

He makes a sound. I think it’s a laugh. But there’s no humor in it.

“What hand was I holding the knife in?”

“Wh-what?” My eyes dart up to meet his.

“What hand?”

“Your right hand.”

His lips twist.

“Why does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. Not really. Not now, anyway.”

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