Page 25 of Burn for the Devil

Head spinning, I entered the limousine behind the two of them. He poured some champagne, passing us half-filled glasses. “You look well, Samantha,” he said.

Lifting the alcohol, I cautiously answered, “Thank you, Timothy. You as well.” It felt a bit early to be indulging, but I swallowed anyway. “How have you been?”

“Excellent,” he replied, a smug smile crossing his face. “Everything is going as planned.”

He must be doing really well since he’d made partner in the law firm he’d been gunning for. He seemed very pleased with himself. My mother leaned back in her seat, appearing satisfiedand content. “I’m happy for you, that’s great news. I didn’t expect to see you,” I remarked.

He set down his glass. “We’re dropping your mother off and then I need to speak with you.” There was nothing I cared to speak about with him. He’d dumped me, and I’d moved on. There was nothing I could do for him, and there was nothing I wanted to do with him. The cruel way he’d dismissed me after the real or imaginary home invasion would never be forgotten and I doubted he’d suddenly changed his mind about what’d happened.

“I have nothing to say to you, I’m sorry.” I tried to be polite while also wishing he’d disappear. My mom shifted in her seat. “Hear him out, Samantha,” she chided me.

“I’ve moved on, Mother,” I said, modulating my voice. “I’m sure Timothy has as well.” I arched a brow at him, recalling the photos I’d seen of him with a famous lingerie model on his arm.

His eyes shuttered. “Samantha, I may have been hasty in my decision for us to part. We can discuss that over lunch.”

Wracking my brain for the motivation behind his change of heart, I couldn’t find one. “I’ve already eaten but thank you.”

The vehicle pulled into my parents’ driveway and the door was opened. I gathered my purse and slid across the seat and ran into an arm. Timothy’s hand flattened against my belly and my mother’s soft smile filled my gaze before my escape route was slammed shut. “We’ll go to the bistro and then I will return you to your little shop.” Nausea suddenly filled my belly at his contact.

I sat back, my blood pressure rising. “Just lunch and that’s it. I’m not interested in starting over with you.” I couldn’t believe my mom was doing this to me—but then again, her, my father, and Timothy had thought I was lying about the mysterious man that trapped me in my sleep in a cottage. Not a single soul had trusted that what I’d said occurred, happened. I may have beencrazy not to give my ex another chance but if that was a part of losing your mind, I was all in. Our relationship had been arranged from the beginning.

What I wanted was love, organic love, not a coupling contrived or spawned from a sense of duty. I wanted someone who would make my heart sing and that was becoming increasingly elusive by the looks of things.

Timothy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not that uncommon in this day and age to have a bout of mental illness. Perhaps you’d been stressed over our changing lives? It isn’t unheard of. You’ve been through therapy, and you are thriving now. Your father will most certainly secure his political aspirations; he’s on the right track to make a bid for the White House in the future. I need you by my side.”

My lips separated over his confession. He wasn’t interested in me; he was interested in the Fern family name and my parents were fully supportive of this parasite. I schooled my features as he continued.

“With the wave of crime hitting our city, it is imperative that I keep you safe. You have heard about the many deaths, have you not? There is a serial killer on the loose, Samantha.”

I hadn’t heard that. “Do you think that waiter was murdered by a serial killer?”

He brushed my question off. “No, the killer only targets women. It is quite gruesome, being dumped in alleyways and dumpsters.”

“Thankfully, I don’t frequent those areas,” I said, pointedly. “I’m not interested, Timothy. Besides, I have a date for the opera.”

“So, I’ve heard.” The look on my ex’s face appeared almost envious before he carefully tucked the errant emotion away. “Your date is based out of California; it will never work out between you.”

The comment was aimed more at his own comfort than any type of warning for me. “I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t been to the symphony hall in ages,” I said. And I was. Matthew was highly attractive, and I loved the glamor and glitz of the opera. There was no way of knowing if he’d request a second date, but I would make the most out of the potentially singular event with the man.

“Be careful with him,” Timothy cautioned.

I met his gaze. “Why do you say that?”

“I hear things,” he said.

“What things?” My shoulders slumped as defeat began to wash over me. I tried to dismiss it; he was likely trying to ruin my excitement. Or, perhaps, my parents asked him to plant seeds of doubt. They really like Timothy a lot.

“Some of the company he keeps is unconventional and his temper precedes him. Of course, I can’t verify this. Just be careful. I care about you deeply Samantha, as do your parents.”

A laugh escaped me. “Come on Timothy, you’re better than to latch onto a piece of gossip.” I was already unsettled, being in his presence and his vague warning deepened the feeling.

The sensation remained during my unexpected lunch date with my ex, while he did his best to make himself seem like an overly eligible bachelor. He carefully placed derogatory statements about Matthew’s business deals into our conversation while comparing the man’s work with his own rising career. Despite the glaring differences between practicing law and purchasing properties, Timothy had a way with words. I hated to admit it, but it did give me second thoughts about the upcoming opera date. Nevertheless, I’d still attend the event.

15

Samantha

I removed the piece of rose quartz from my pocketbook. It seemed the love-attracting qualities the rock was said to possess worked a little too well. Silly, for sure, to think a simple piece of organic matter could affect daily life but with Timothy’s attempts to draw me back into his circle, it was better to be safe than sorry.

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