Page 86 of Faded Gray Lines
Her ponytail swayed as she shook her head. “Nope. Jackie just said a whole lot of nothing.” Tucking her bare legs underneath her, she played with the hem on the black T-shirt of mine she’d worn to bed.
I tilted my mug toward the screen. “What do you think she’s going to say?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugged, her eyes never leaving the screen. “I tried to call her all day yesterday, but she wouldn’t answer her phone.”
My question was somewhat rhetorical. I had a good idea what her impromptu Saturday morning press gathering was about. Forty-eight hours after kidnapping Finn Donovan, I still hadn’t decided what to do with him.
“Leighton, I should probably tell you something.”
“Shhh, it’s starting,” she said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.
Laying a hand on her thigh, I watched as Lilith took the podium and adjusted the microphone. She wore a black dress and a somber expression as she gazed out at the crowd.
Almost as if she were already in mourning.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’ll keep this brief. My husband, Finley Donovan, CEO of Donovan-Ross left for work at his corporate office Thursday morning and never returned.” She paused, balling her fist and pressing it under her nose. “Finn’s always been a workaholic, so I didn’t panic until Friday morning when I woke to find he’d never came home. It’s now Saturday, and my husband is still missing. I’ve filed a missing person’s report with the Houston Police Department and together, we’re offering a two-hundred and fifty-thousand-dollar reward to anyone providing information leading to the safe return of my husband.”
As Lilith deadpanned a hard stare into the camera, Leighton shuddered beside me. Part of me wanted to assure her I had this under control, but I didn’t. I’d enjoy every second of what was to come. Keeping Finn locked in that basement gave me control in a situation that didn’t know the meaning of the word. I wasn’t there to stop her pain four years ago, and I wasn’t there to prevent it a week ago, but I sure as hell would draw blood for it now.
Unable to hold back any longer, I reached for her, pressing her face against my chest. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“What do you think happened to him?” she whispered, her words muffled.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s fine.”
He wasn’t, but she didn’t need the details.
A question rested on Leighton’s lips I wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer to. I braced for it, prepared to drag her into the dark, when she lifted her head and shoved her hands against my chest. “You don’t understand!” she screamed. “I don’t want him to be fine!”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m glad he’s missing,” she said, loathing in her eyes. “I don’t want him to come back. I hope he’s dead.”
Taking her face in my hands, I opened the gate to hell and pushed her through. “You cried out in your sleep all last night, Leighton. I asked you after the party why you were so afraid of Finn, and now I want a straight answer.”
She settled a blank stare on me. “Are you sure, Matty? Once you open that door, you can’t close it.”
“I already know,” I said quietly. “I need to hear you say the words.”
“If you already know, then why have you blamed me for walking away? You think I don’t belong in your world, but you’re wrong. I’ve made choices and sacrifices you could never imagine. If anyone understands that money is thicker than blood, it’s me.”
* * *
May – Four Years Ago
Dragging myself through the door, I dropped my purse and made it up two stairs when the light flickered at the top of the landing.
“It’s well past midnight, Leighton. Where have you been? In fact, where have you been every night?”
I sighed, climbing the rest of the way and brushing past her. “You’re just now realizing I haven’t been here?”
I wasn’t shocked. No one ever asked where I was or who I was with. Not that it was an issue anyway. I was where I’d been for the past three weeks—sitting on the grass next to the train tracks waiting for Matty to show up. He never did, of course. Hope was a powerful gift and the greatest curse.
She grabbed my arm. “Are you still seeing that barrio boy?”
I froze, turning slowly to face her. “How do you know about him?”
“Please, you’re the mayor’s daughter,” she chastised, smoothing a hand over her bleached blonde hair. “You don’t think people recognize when a Donovan is in a questionable part of town?”
