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I'd driven about a mile before I took some pity on him, slowing the car, rolling down the driver's side window, and tossing his phone out. Maybe he'd find it and get himself a ride.
If I were smart I'd have kept the car, used it for a spell. It was very nice, a brand new Audi. I could have driven around in style for a change. Even with how he felt about me now, I couldn't imagine him reporting it stolen.
Still, I wanted him to report it, because I didn't keep it. I left it in an empty parking lot a few blocks from my apartment, hoping he'd somehow get it back and find the present I'd carved for him on the hood.
I fucking hate you. Quit stalking me.
Subtlety had never been my strength. Why try to change now?
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
"There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done."
~Sara Teasdale
PRESENT
SCARLETT
We'd been living together in our love nest for a few months when it all came crashing down around us.
I was resigned to being together in secret for the foreseeable future, or forever if need be.
Hell, I was thankful for it. Even with the fighting, some of it horrible, messy, disastrous—some of it damn near too painful to take, I was still grateful for every second granted to us, only hoping each day that we could have another, and another.
We'd never had much luck with hope.
The movie was going well, scheduled to wrap up in days, and I'd just gotten into to my trailer and was changing to go home when I got the call.
It was an unknown number, and I automatically ignored the first few times it rang. Finally annoyance had me answering with a curt, "Hello?"
"Hello, Scarlett."
I hadn't heard the voice in a while, not since Gram's funeral, and then only briefly, but I recognized it instantly. "Hello, Adelaide," I said, voice gone cold with no effort at all. I had nothing but ice in my veins for this woman.
"How long did you think this could last?" she asked, poison dripping from the words. "How long did you think you could hide it from me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said evenly and unflappably. I was an actress, after all, and there was only one person, one man to be precise, that I couldn't fake it in front of, in a pinch.
"Cute. Very cute. I have a man waiting for you, right outside of the gate at your studio. Get in the car. It's time we had a talk."
"Not likely. Why the hell would I want to talk to you?"
"Don't be coy. I'm in no mood. You'll do what I say because you know what I know and I'm just looking for a reason to turn you in."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Yes, I was still faking it for the simple reason that I didn't know what else to do.
"There's no statute of limitations on killing a cop," she said, tone flat. Dead. "Go get in the car."
Checkmate.
I changed and left the property.
I saw her car and driver right away. A man in a suit leaning against a Rolls Royce. Yeah, no brainer.
He opened the door for me as I approached, holding out his hand. "Your phone," he said without expression.
