Page 128 of Ruthless Regret

McFadden frowns. He places his pen onto the table.

“I wanted a change of pace. City living was wearing me down.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? Why don’t we start with the way you had Jason murdered because of your obsession with Louisa. You couldn’t stand that she was with him.”

McFadden’s expression doesn’t change.

“Those pain meds you’re taking must be messing with your mind. Maybe you should go back to the hospital.”

“I don’t think so.” Zain’s voice is steady. “You couldn’t have her, so you got rid of Jason. But Louisa walked in, didn’t she? She wasn’t supposed to die, but she did. Somehow Ramsey knew it was you, and you pressured him to bury it.”

McFadden’s jaw tightens. “Be careful, Zain. You’re making a very serious accusation.”

“Am I?”

“What sent you over the edge? Louisa telling you she wasn’t interested, or the fact she was carrying Jason’s baby?”

McFadden’s face turns red, and he stands, his chair tipping over with the force of the movement.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snarls.

The polite mask is gone, replaced by something much darker. His eyes are blazing as his hand moves toward his belt.

“Don’t.” Bishop’s voice comes from near the doorway.

McFadden’s hand freezes near his holster.

Zain slowly rises to his feet. “You couldn’t let her go. Couldn’t handle the fact she was happy with Jason. So you had him killed, hadherkilled.”

McFadden’s face twists with fury, and then everything seems to happen in slow motion.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

ZAIN

The second McFadden’shand twitches toward his gun, I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I just react. My body moves before my mind catches up, and I throw myself at him just as his fingers curl around the grip.

Pain explodes along my side at the impact, but I ignore it in favor of closing my hand around his wrist, and twisting it hard enough to make him cry out. The gun slips from his grip, falling to the floor with a dull thud. I shove him back, stoop and grab the gun before he has a chance to recover.

McFadden stumbles, his face twisted in rage. When he sees the gun in my hand, he goes for the knife on the table.

“I wouldn’t.” My voice is soft, and his head turns toward me.

The rage in his eyes is replaced by fear. For the first time since walking into the house, he knows he’s not in control.

But it’s not enough.

Everything that’s happened—fourteen years of my life ripped away because of him, because of what he did—boils up in my chest.

The hatred, the fury.

He’s standing there, having lived free for fourteen years, while Jason, Louisa and their unborn baby are dead.

While I spent over a decade in a cage for a crime I didn’t commit.

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