"That - that's weird, all right," acknowledged Sasha faintly, not daring to share her suspicions that Matthew had somehow been the catalyst behind the Cullen family downfall.
"Well, I suppose that hardly matters, does it? What's important here, Sasha, is that justice is finally going to get served. That bastard unfortunately got away with what he did to you, but one way or the other he's going to answer for his evildoing. And I'm sorry I had to drag all this up again, or even mention his name. But I thought you deserved to know."
Sasha thanked her aunt for telling her, then chatted about other matters for a few minutes until it was nearly time for her client to arrive. She continued to stare at her cell phone for long seconds after telling Linda good-by, wondering if she had the nerve to make another quick call, or whether she should send a text or email instead. Impulsively, before she could change her mind or lose her nerve, she pressed the call button.
He answered immediately. "Sasha. God, I'm so glad you're calling. Where are you?"
"At the studio. And I've got a client coming in any second, so I can't talk long. But, well, I just heard about the - the Cullens. And I have to know, Matthew. Was it you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
There was silence on the other end for long seconds before Matthew replied. "I vowed to you that the man who hurt you would pay for his sins. And I always fulfill my promises, Sasha. Especially the ones I make to you."
She closed her eyes, her hand gripping the edge of the massage table for support as her legs began to shake. "I normally don't believe in revenge," she whispered. "I prefer to leave that sort of thing to my mother. But in this case - thank you, Matthew. For chasing away a monster that's been lurking in the back of my closet for too many years to count."
She ended the call abruptly, not trusting herself to remain on the line a second longer. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to stop herself from telling him how much she still loved him. And, as his wife had so cruelly pointed out a little while ago, loving Matthew wasn't Sasha's right any longer.
Chapter Twenty
Early August
"Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Fogerty! I'll see you at practice tomorrow, Blake. Hopefully it doesn't get cut short again because of the heat."
Casey waved good-bye to his friend and his mother who'd offered him a ride home. When today's baseball practice had been halted before noon because of the ninety-plus degree temperatures, Casey had started to call his mother so she could come and pick him up. But Blake had forestalled him, assuring Casey that his mom would be happy to drop him off since they only lived two blocks away.
It was just as well, thought Casey as he let himself in the house, since the likelihood that his mother would have actually been the one to pick him up was practically nonexistent. Lindsey would have insisted that their housekeeper Maribel picked him up, even though that wasn't one of her duties. Poor, good-natured Maribel, though, had a difficult time saying no to anything that Lindsey and Hayley asked of her, and ended up doing lots of little things outside of her regular responsibilities. The situation had only become worse since Matthew had set his foot down about employing a nanny for Casey and Hayley, insisting that they were both well past the age where they needed that sort of help.
Casey had agreed wholeheartedly, especially since he'd endured all sorts of teasing from his friends whenever he had been dropped off or picked up at school or other events by whoever the current nanny had been. And since he and Hayley were at school all day, the nanny had had very little to do most of the time, and precious little even when they were at home. Hayley had treated the succession of nannies like her personal attendants, asking them to get her a snack or tidy up her room or even do her homework for her.
He showered, changed into cargo shorts and a T-shirt, and then made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Not wanting to bother Maribel, whom he'd spied dusting in the living room, Casey made himself a sandwich. Unlike his high-maintenance mother and sister - both of whom insisted on being waited on practically hand and foot - Casey's needs were much simpler, and he had always been self-sufficient, even as a little boy.
After putting his dishes in the dishwasher, he ambled outside to see how hot it really was. A swim in the pool sounded awfully good, and he wondered how long he'd need to wait to digest his lunch. As he began to walk around the side of the house towards the pool, however, he froze in his tracks at the sound of raised voices. Unsurprisingly, his mother and sister were arguing again, something they seemed to do on a regular basis. Normally, Casey would have just ignored them and continued on his way, but his ears perked up in surprise at what his mother was saying to his sister.