Page 37 of Ruthless Regret

I slam the mug down a little too hard, and it rattles on the counter.

I don’t have time for this! I don’t have time to dwell on how we ended up sleeping together, why it happened, or what it meant. It doesn’t matter.

I finish drying the mugs, and head back to my room, so I can grab my washbag, before taking a shower. The water rains down over me, hot and soothing, and for a moment I let my mind go blank. But it doesn’t last. And before long, I’m replaying the events of the past week in my mind again.

Zain’s release.

Meeting him at Jason’s grave.

The contract.

The marriage.

The chaos that followed.

Every single detail feels sharper, more vivid than ever, as though my mind is refusing to let me forget any of it. But nomatter how much I turn it over in my head, there’s one truth I can’t ignore.

I want to know what really happened.

It’s not just about Zain. It’s not even about the revenge he claimed he wanted or the twisted game he played. It’s about Jason and Louisa. It’s about the lies I didn’t know I was telling myself.

My friends would say that now I’ve walked away, I should put it behind me and return to my life. But regardless of his intentions, Zain has opened a door inside my mind that I’ve kept locked for years.

I want to know the truth behind Jason and Louisa’s deaths. Even when I thought Zain was the culprit, I wanted to knowwhy. But I pushed it away, buried it deep, and did everything I could to pretend it didn’t happen.

I can’t do that anymore.

I rinse off, and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around me as I make my way back to the bedroom. My reflection in the mirror catches my eye, and I stop to look at myself. I don’t recognize the woman in the mirror staring back at me. Shelooksthe same, but she’s not. There’s something different in her eyes. Something harder, and more determined.

I’m not the same person I was.

While I dress, I figure out my gameplan for the day.

First, I need a new phone. I’ve been cut off from the outside world for long enough, and I don’t just mean with Zain taking my cell away. I’ll deal withthatlater. For now, I need to take back control over everything I’ve let slip away over the years.

Once I have the phone, I’ll go to the library. The murders were well-publicized, and I can start there. I need to see what was reported, whatwasn’treported, and if there’s anything I don’t know about the case.

ThenI’ll call Sheriff McFadden. He’s the only one who can give me access to the case files. Maybe I can convince him that I have a right to see them, that I need to understand what happened.

I need to know the truth. And just because I’ve walked away from Zain, it doesn’t mean I can’t try and find a way to access all the same information he can. I’ve seen his interrogation and my interviews. I have a right to askwhyI was interviewed without a parent. I need to figure out why I can’t remember that first part of the interview. I want to know why I changed my story. I need to find a way to get those memories back.

Maybe I can find something …anything… that will give me answers to at least some of my questions.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ZAIN

I’m up at five,after a mostly sleepless night. Clearing away any trace of me sleeping in the bathroom in case my mom comes in, I take a quick shower, dress, and then go downstairs. I doubt my parents will be awake yet, but I’m too restless to sit around. Part of my daily prison routine was to work out, and I haven’t had much chance to do that since my release, so I go out for a run.

The streets are quiet. It’s still too early for most people to be getting up and traveling to work, and I make the most of it. My feet pounding on the sidewalk gives me something to focus on, instead of the thoughts that have been on a loop all night long.

It feels good to be outside, the morning sun warm on my face. I take a deep breath, the fresh air filling my lungs, and for a moment I’m taken back to the prison yard. The air smelled different there, stale and heavy, even when the sun was out. But this … This is the kind of freedom I spent fourteen years dreaming about. And yet even out here, with the open sky above me, and the town stretching out in every direction, I don’tfeelfree. Not really.

What people don’t realize is that freedom isn’t just walking out of the prison, without chains around your ankles andhandcuffs around your wrists. It’s more than the ability to go where you want,dowant you want.

It’s about knowing who you are, and what you’re supposed to be doing.

It’s about having a plan … a purpose … meaning … alife.

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