Page 60 of Ruthless Regret

When I enter the kitchen, my gaze falls onto the table. Scattered across it are sheets of paper, all covered in highlighter markers.

“What’s this?” I reach for one of the sheets.

She lunges forward, trying to snatch it away, but she’s not fast enough. I scan the highlighted portions, holding out my other hand to ward her off.

"Witnesses describe a figure near the scene who does not match Ryder's description ..."

"Detective Holson reportedly had doubts about the swift conviction ..."

"Inconsistencies in forensic evidence were largely dismissed ..."

“You’ve already been investigating.” I look up.

She flushes, and looks away. “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s all my fucking business. This is what I’ve been trying to tell you. There’s more going on here than anyone realized.”

“Just because I’ve been looking into things, it doesn’t mean I trust you or want your help.”

Peter clears his throat. “Perhaps we should all take a moment to?—”

“Stay out of it,” Ashley and I say in unison, our eyes locked in a heated glare.

“Ash,” one of her friends says. “Maybe you should hear him out?”

“No,” Scott interjects. “This guy shows up, claims to be her husband, and then threatens her life. We should be calling the police.”

I ignore them all, and reach out to touch her cheek, drawing her face back around so I can see her eyes. “You know there’s more to this story.” I force myself to speak softly. “These articles prove it. But what I’ve found goes even deeper. There are things you don’t know.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you, am I? Because you haven’t lied to meat allto get what you want.”

“I don’t expect you to trust me, Firecracker, but you can trust the evidence. Trust your own instincts.”

For a moment, I’m sure I see uncertainty in her eyes. But then her jaw sets.

“Get out. I don’t want your help, and I don’t want to see you again. Not now. Not ever.”

Okay, so apparently being logical and understanding isn’t working. Fuck it.

“Unless you can drag me out of here yourself, I’m not going.” I toss her a smirk.

Her eyes flash.

“You have no right.”

“Section 3, point 4.I release all autonomy over to Zain Ryder. For fourteen months from the date of signing, he has full control over?—”

She slaps me. I drop the sheet of paper, and catch her wrist before she hits me again.

“Feel better now?”

“I hate you.”

“You can hate me all you like, but you still need to understand?—”

“Understand?You want me to understand. Fine. Let’s talk about understanding, Zain. Do youunderstandwhat it’s like tohave your life torn apart? To be forced into a marriage because someone hates youthatmuch?”

“Ashley.” It’s the other friend trying to stem her tirade this time. Ashley holds up a hand.

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