He shrugged. “I might’ve given you a push to be sure. I saw the bags under your eyes and figured maybe you weren’t sleeping. So there might’ve been a recording of your husband’s voice that I played sometimes. It was on an eight-hour loop. Did that work? Was that what pushed you to come here?”
He seemed eager to know, like a little boy who wanted approval, or even congratulations. I offered nothing, glaring at him.
“Whatever.” He leered at me. “But yeah. That was all me. Once I got you here, I knew the conspiracy theories would start. I reported that you’d moved in right away, and the wheels were in motion. The Bertals started wondering if Liam told about me. They didn’t think so, but they were still worried.” He scowled. “They weren’t worried enough, though. They were willing to wait it out, so I had to up everything. I told them you were sleeping with him, and that was it. I’d been holding on to that gem. You never know when you might need an ace up your sleeve, but I had to relinquish it, and it did the trick. They decided to grab you. And now, here we are.” He was smiling again. “We’re in a position where I have to blow my cover to take you out, and trust me, I am more than willing.”
He was almost gleeful as he stood back up and hit the button.
Now. I had to do something. I stalled for time, saying quickly, “You said you got two breaks. The first was Cole coming back to get you. What was the second?”
I was half listening. I didn’t care what he was going to say. I reached back to grab the phone receiver still in my waistband.
“Oh.” He fell quiet.
Uncharacteristically quiet. I stilled, focusing on him again.
“Yeah. That.” His mouth twisted. “It was your husband.”
The doors opened.
He stuck his hand out, holding them in place.
“What?” An impending doom rolled in. I felt it coming, covering me like a dark shadow.
“There was a hit on him, but I told you it didn’t matter in the end. He died anyway, but it wasn’t us.”
I shook my head. I knew this. “It was a drunk driver.”
“No. The driver wasn’t drunk, and no statements were taken by the police. You never knew that?”
“What?” I didn’t… I couldn’t… What was he saying?
“I have cops on my payroll. Your friend is going to find out, but I can delay it.”
Cole said that.
“No.” I had it wrong. “No way.”
“We weren’t the only ones who had a hit on your husband, and we weren’t the ones who fulfilled it.”
“You’re saying—no. I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me, Addison. It was your boyfriend who had your husband killed. That ‘drunk’ driver was also your driver, until recently.”
Carl…
I started dry heaving, but no—I couldn’t. It wasn’t over. There was no more stalling as Dorian bent to grab me, taking hold of my ankle again. He was going to drag me to his car, but as he started to turn back around, I swung. Everything in me wanted to cry, curl up, and give up, but I didn’t.
I swung with everything I had. I was on the ground. I couldn’t run away. I’d have to crawl, but I knew I had to fight. I had to make him hurt, even just a little bit. I swallowed blood, tears, and bile as I followed my swing with my entire body. I flipped all the way over, breaking his hold. I connected with his face, but even as I felt the contact, I knew it wasn’t enough.
He fell back, but just barely.
I fell against the wall once again, and I could only sit there a moment, stunned. When I lifted my gaze, I knew he was going to kill me. He was going to shoot me right here and now.
His eyes burned with rage, and his hands balled into fists. He stood staring down at me, envisioning all the ways he could hurt me—I could feel his thoughts. A cold shiver went down my spine. A red mark had already started to form on his cheek where I hit him. I got a little satisfaction from that, but it was small.
So fucking small. I wanted to scream.
“You bi—” Dorian started for me, but someone appeared just behind him. She swung, hitting him in the back of his head, and unlike my hit—hers counted. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he whirled around, holding on long enough to see who’d struck him.
Dawn stood there, holding a pan in her hands. She was panting, but as he took a step toward her, she got him again, hitting him across the face and spinning all the way around from the force. She paused—her cheeks puffed out in concentration, her forehead wrinkled—then swung a third time. Right at his crotch.
Dorian fell, slamming into the cement of the parking lot.