Page 105 of Skin Deep

The driver opened the door for me, and I took a seat across from Cash and Keely. Cash looked up at me and then back at his phone. His green eyes lit up from the screen. My sister made small talk as we headed back to the hotel. She went on about how Mari was glowing and how beautiful the baby was. I looked out the window, letting her voice become a distant buzz in the background.

Owen was waiting outside the hotel when we pulled up. Cash gave the driver directions to wait for him while he walked my sister up to their room. Owen hopped in, and we waited a few minutes for Cash to come back down for the ride.

“He’s a dangerous bastard,” Owen almost said to himself, watching our brother-in-law fix his suit as the driver opened the door for him again.

As we pulled into traffic, the Italian driver asked, “Where to?”

“A market,” I said, “where they have fresh fruit.” I thought about getting fresh flowers, but I remembered what my wife had said about picking them.No flowers then.She loved fresh fruit, though.

He nodded and headed in that direction.

I turned to Owen. “You find something?”

He made a gesture with his hand that meant so-so. “Both rich. Like— beaucoup rich. They grew up together, were really tight. Families are tight too. Dads do business together—they’re both famous architects in England. But get this—after a few years, the husbands switched out their wives. Like, got a divorce, then somehow ended up with the other one’s wife. That’s how they became stepbrothers. Other than that, the only other thing I found was that they called themselves ‘the artists.’ Not sure what that means. Big blow to them all when Elias was killed.”

He gave me a pointed look.

“What?”

He looked between me and Kelly. He sighed.

“Georgina got the blame for it. There’s no proof, but that’s what rumors say. She was toxic. Manipulative. Jealous. He tried to break if off, but she refused to let go. Some reports say they were fighting over the wheel in the car when it lost control. He was killed instantly, and she’s gone on to live a life full of glamour and fun.”

“Bullshit!” I roared.

The car went quiet.

“I’ve met her, remember?” Owen finally said. “Even though she’s a good actress, she’s not that good. There’s no lie in her laugh or in her eyes. Look how she is with Gus. She buys him organic. She takes care of him before she takes care of herself. She doesn’t even like it when we call him names because she says it hurts his feelings. Kee has her opinions because of Mari, but I form my own opinions based on whatIsee.” He looked at Kelly.

Kelly shrugged. He wasn’t touching anything to do with his wife’s opinions of another woman. That wasn’t what this was about anyway.

“Besides,” Owen said, “I found something buried from years ago. Elias was dating a girl who went missing. She still hasn’t been found, though those same rumors say she was a drug addict. But.” He looked out the window for a second before turning to face me again. “Her mam claims different. She also claims Elias and Miles were dating her at the same time, though Elias was the only one who admitted to dating her. Her mam said they were abusive—mentally.”

“This is not a man from the street,” Kelly said, and I understood his point.

The street was one thing—what was fair was fair—but I’d have to be careful how I went about this. Those two families were close, and they’d already lost one son. If they lost another and the trail led back to my wife… I had to plan with my brain and not my anger.

The driver took us to a market, and we all collected a few things before we headed back. Lachlan was asleep on the sofa and Declan on a chair when I walked in. I woke them up, and they went to their rooms. I set the fruit on the table, taking out some grapes, which I brought with me into the room.

My wife was curled up in bed, a small lump, with Gus at her feet at the bottom. She was awake, looking toward the window. I took a seat next to her.

“Want one?” I said, offering her the bunch.

She blinked at me. “Where did you get them?”

Her tone was soft, but distant.

“A market. I thought you’d enjoy something fresh. But no flowers.”

“No,” she said. “No flowers.”

We sat for a minute or two.

“Is that what they did to you?” I said. “Took you away from the sun?”

“Sì,” she said.

She probably had no idea in the beginning that they were pulling her up by the roots, until it was too late. Then they put her on display because they knew she was helpless.

“You want to know,” she said, “but I will not tell you. You will not be able to love me if I do. I do not love me when I think about it.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said, “because it doesn’t matter. You can’t move or hurt my love. You’re mine, Georgina Ryan. This. Between us. It’s as permanent as a soul.”

Her eyes turned up to meet mine.

“I’m not going to let him get near you,” I said, holding her chin, my thumb stroking her lip.

She put her cold hand over it and closed her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. But I could tell he was already inside—of her head.

---