Page 55 of Don't Hate Me
Prison recommendations. I dropped my face into my hands. What the fuck had I done? How had this happened to my life? Captain of the State Championship soccer team, top of my class, Princeton early graduate. Summa Cum Laude.
Now, my lawyer, who I couldn’t afford, was compiling prison recommendations.
Because of Ash. Because Ash had been in trouble and I couldn’t not try to save her.
“Fifteen months,” I said quietly.
“Twelve potentially. If you’re a good little boy,” Benfield reminded me. “It’s nothing, Marc. It’s a blip in your life. You’ll be, what, twenty-three, twenty-four when you get out? Then, assuming you can fulfill your part of our agreement, you’ll have my support when you get out.”
I shook my head. My part of the agreement. What he meant was using Ash to get dirt on her father. Now that she was actually going to marry Sanderson, she would probably be in good shape to get dirt on him, as well. A solid plan, only it meant putting her at risk.
“No doubt you’ll begin to resent that she brought you to this end, then start to hate her. By the time they let you out, you’ll be so happy to have what’s left of your life back, you’ll never think about her again.”
I’d thought a lot about Sanderson’s words. About whether I resented Ash. If I could ever grow to hate her. It didn’t make sense. Hating Ash would be like hating my right hand. She was a part of me. An integral piece of the makeup of who I was.
There were times I railed against her. Times I ignored her. Times I fucked her so hard I thought I would never not be deep inside her pussy.
Now, I was going to prison, and she was going to marry a psychopath. For anyone else, it would have sounded like the end of the story. Only, I knew it wasn’t. This was just another thing we both had to get through.
Like her father shipping her off to Switzerland. Had I known, had I listened harder, I might have kept her there despite the cold. At least there she’d been safe. At least then I wouldn’t have gone to work for her father so he could set me up.
There was no point in replaying the past. Nothing could be changed about the decisions we’d made. The only control we had over our lives was what we did going forward.
She would survive Evan. I would survive prison. And then we would go from there.
“Okay. You win. I’ll take the deal.”
Entwhistle nodded, satisfied. Benfield stood and walked over to slap me on the shoulder.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but this will pass,” he said.
I had no choice but to believe him.
* * *
Harborview Country Club
Two weeks later
Ashleigh
I stared in the mirror and thought maybe the reflection wasn’t me. Maybe that was someone else in this ridiculous white dress, with her hair slicked into a tight bun, which made my face look slim and waifish.
This wasn’t the dressIwould pick for my wedding. This wasn’t howIwould style my hair. The makeup was clownish. The flowers were roses. I didn’t particularly care for roses.
So maybe this wasn’tme.
There was a brief knock on the door before it opened. Evan walked into the dressing area without asking permission. I made a mental note when I moved into his home, I would need to make sure all the rooms had locks I could control. Just in case he decided to surprise me with his presence.
“Excellent,” he said. “You’re ready on time. I despise tardiness. You should know that when you’re expected to attend events with me.”
“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?” I said dully.
He smirked. “I’m not worried about my luck. They’ll be starting the ceremony soon. Your father is on his way to collect you. I just wanted to make sure there would be no surprises.”
“I told you there wouldn’t be.”
Shortly after I knew what I needed to do, I set up a meeting with Evan. The agreement was simple. I played my part docilely, and I earned a modicum of freedom. This included being allowed to visit Marc in prison. Having gotten what he wanted from me—my total obedience and willingness to turn a blind eye to any and all of his activities—Evan had agreed.
