Page 105 of The Devil's Pawn

I came hoping for answers, knowing I wouldn’t get them. Even saying out loud what’s happened has been helpful, though, so I’m not sorry I came. I know he loves me, and that’s enough for me to fight for him. He can run from whatever his issue is, but I’ll keep coming back, holding up amirror until he tells me what’s so troubling to him that he’d go this far to push me away.

The irony of having had those divorce papers in my hand when they’ve become the last thing I now want isn’t lost on me.

I thank her and leave. It’s thirty minutes before I’m due to meet Vicky, and I don’t want a coffee. I wander down the high street, peering in the windows of a few of the shops. There are some unique little antique shops I’d love to explore, but if I go inside any of them now, I’ll lose track of time and miss meeting up with Vicky.

“Imogen!”

The sound of a male voice shouting my name makes me freeze. As I turn, though, happiness rushes through me.

“Will!” I glance both ways, then cross the street. “It’s great to see you. How’ve you been? I’m so sorry for what happened. Alexander should not have fired you, and believe me, I made it clear what he did was out of order, but by then it was too late. You’d left, and I didn’t know how to get in touch with you.”

He beams at me. “It’s fine. I have a new job at a yard not too far from here, and I’m much happier there than I was at Oakleigh.” He leans in conspiratorially. “I never liked my boss all that much.”

Relieved, I chuckle. “That’s wonderful.”

“Want to get a coffee?” he asks, gesturing up the street away from the main road. “There’s a great place a little farther along, and it’s far cheaper than the chains on the high street.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m due to meet my friend soon.”

His face falls. “Oh, that’s a shame.” He toes the groundwith the tip of his shoe, his shoulders bowed in disappointment.

I glance at my watch. I’ve twenty minutes until Vicky is due to pick me up. I can’t bear seeing his sadness and knowing I’m the cause, especially after everything Alexander did.

“Maybe a quick one.”

“Excellent. Let me grab my wallet from my car. It’s parked over there.” He points to a battered four-door sedan. “It’s not much, but it gets me around.”

“I can pay.”

He looks offended at my offer, shaking his head. “No. Let me. Please.”

We make our way to his car. Will opens the back door, reaching in to grab his jacket. He straightens, but when he turns around, the cheerful smile is gone. Instead, his eyes are narrowed, his lips thin.

“I’m sorry, but your husband has this coming.”

A needle plunges into my thigh, and I scream. His hand clamps over my mouth as he spins me around, jabbing a knee into the back of mine. Folding forward, my face meets the back seat. Arms like jelly, I try to push myself upright, but it’s futile.

“What have you given me?” I slur the words, and my vision blurs. “Will…?”

He tosses a blanket over me, and the door slams. I struggle to keep my eyes open, my body heavy and unresponsive. The car moves away, and my last thought is for my husband.

Alexander, I’m sorry.

Chapter Thirty-Five

ALEXANDER

The punchbag rattles on the chain the moment I hit it again. My knuckles are bruised and bloody, yet I keep going, hitting the bag over and over. The pain is excruciating, but physical agony is better than the internal anguish every time I think about the look on Imogen’s face when I served her with the divorce papers. I wish I had a mark, a living, breathing, flesh and blood human I could beat until their face caves in, but I don’t have my next target yet.

Footsteps sound behind me, but I ignore them, aiming a kick at the bag. As it swings back toward me, I let out a volley of punches.

“Who’s pissed you off?”

Grabbing a towel, I wipe the sweat off my chest as Nicholas saunters toward me. I’m not interested in shooting the shit with my brother, and I’m not in the mood to fend off a glut of questions.

“I’ll leave you to it.” I head for the door, but as I pass him, he snaps out a hand, grabbing my bicep.

“Xan, what’s wrong?”

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