Page 28 of Cruel Hearts

When I step out of the shower, I find a pile of clothes on the vanity, and I poke through them. Striped wide-legged pants in a seersucker material that are perfect because it’s so hot outside. A matching blazer. A white tank top. My flats will look okay. He even bought me a bra and panty set in the correct sizes.

My skin crawls thinking of him pawing at me, but I push it aside in favor of clothes that fit.

I dress in the bra, panties, tank, and pants and step out of the bathroom in a puff of steam.

The shampoo, conditioner, and body wash were a generic brand, and the crisp ocean breeze scent wafts to me as I dry my hair using a tattered towel. My skin crackles. I wish I had lotion or a balm to smooth over my scrapes.

Denton’s still looking at the photos of “me” and Sergio.

“Zane believes that’s me.” I’m disappointed he would be so easily deceived, but he believes anything the Blacks tell him.

“They did a good job,” he says, scrolling. “Very talented with photo manipulation.”

“How do you know it’s not me?” I ask, a lump growing in my throat. I’m so tired. I want to lie down and sleep forever. I would be, if Denton hadn’t interfered.

He scrolls to a picture of Sergio and me slow dancing. My back is facing the camera, and I’m wearing a stunning strapless dress, my hair pinned up in a riot of curls. Sergio has his arms around me, and he’s staring deeply into my eyes. The photo oozes sex.

Denton points to the picture, then taps the screen. “Whoever put this together thought of everything but your tat. If you didn’t have the dove on your shoulder, they would have gotten away with it.”

“Holy fuck,” I breathe. I never considered that.

“Indeed. With the number of times I’m sure you and Zane...” He coughs. “I’m kind of surprised he didn’t see it for himself, but we believe what we’re led to believe. Besides, anyone can cover up ink with a little makeup. I just don’t think whoever made these pictures knew you well enough to know you have a tattoo.”

“Whoever? You mean Ash. He took me and had to come up with a plausible explanation for my disappearance. Me looking like a money-hungry tramp worked well enough. Zane didn’t need a spoonful of sugar to suck it down.”

I throw my towel into a small hamper in the bathroom. I don’t have a brush, and I finger comb the snarls out of my hair. It’s the best I can do.

The coffeemaker in the kitchen area is still warm, and feeling a little more like myself, I pour more into my mug. There’s a small mini fridge next to the counter, and I add a splash milk from the bottle inside.

At least I know why Zane believed the worst—Ash goaded him into it. From the moment we met at Temptations, Ash was on Zane’s ass to get rid of me. For being poor, for not being part of their social circle. Zane trusted Ash more than he loved me.

“The Blacks can be persuasive,” Denton says, watching me.

“Is that why you were meeting Clayton behind Zane’s back? Because hepersuadedyou?”

“I didn’t, and still don’t, trust Clayton Black as far as I can throw him. I believe he had something to do with Kagan’s and Lark’s deaths. I just can’t prove it. I was meeting Clayton on the pretense I wanted to work for Black Enterprises because under Zane’s control, Maddox Industries was going nowhere. I was just getting him to believe me, then you went poking through my email. You blew my cover. Black cut me off, and Zane cut me loose.”

“You were spying,” I say, my eyes widening in realization.

“Trying. I was trying to spy, and it didn’t work out so well.”

“The Blacks are too smart for that.”

“Yes, and they know how to cover their tracks.”

I sip my coffee. I still don’t trust him. If he was really spying, he played his part well, too well, and I’ll never forget him in the conference room of Maddox Industries threatening me, leering at me, his thumb skimming my breast. But that close, he definitely saw my tattoo.

Praise God he remembered.

“At least Zarah was able to get away from Ash.” If any good came out of this, it was that I pried Zarah out of his grip. He didn’t love her, and I doubt he ever did. Something is broken inside him, and he will never understand how it feels to care about someone. He’s full of pure evil.

Denton shakes his head. “You really have been cut off from the world, haven’t you?”

My heart drops and I ask, “What do you mean? Did something happen to her?”

He clicks a few keys on his keyboard. “Come look at this. This happened right after you disappeared.”

I stand behind his chair and he starts a video on a social media sharing site. Someone filmed parts of Zane’s party, and as I watch the footage, the elegant tables and finely-dressed guests, it seems like it happened just yesterday. How fabulous I felt in my dress. How proud I was to be on Zane’s arm. How in love I was with him.

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