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“You think you’re so fucking special because you’ve got three guys falling over themselves for you?” She huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, it’s not so hard to get guys on the hook. You’re not the only one, and your vagina isn’t magical or anything.”
The implication that I’m just using the guys for sex—or worse, that I’m using sex as a tool to get them to do what I want—infuriates me, but I do my best to keep my emotions under wraps just like she is. She’s trying to get under my skin, trying to make me doubt myself or feel like shit.
And I won’t let her.
“Yeah?” I allow myself a slightly
smug grin. “You’ve got three boyfriends in here, do you? A little lockup hookup?”
Her multi-colored eyes flash with irritation. Good. I’m getting to her as much as she’s getting to me. It hasn’t been that long since I last saw her, but at lot has happened since then. I feel like a different person. More confident, more in control. She can’t manipulate me the way she used to, and I can tell she hates that.
“I wouldn’t date any of the losers in here.” She rolls her eyes like I’m crazy for even suggesting it. “I don’t need to anyway.”
My pulse picks up a little, but I make sure not to give any outward sign. Instead, I lazily run my finger down the spine of a book that’s sitting on the desk.
“Sure you don’t. I bet guys will be banging down your door as soon as you get out of here.”
She shakes her head, a look of withering pity on her face. “That’s the problem with you, Emma. You never realized that some guys like bad girls. The more dangerous you are, the hotter you are. I’m plenty dangerous. And that’s what keeps my man interested. It took me a little while to realize that too, but when I did…” She grins. “Well, let’s just say things finally heated up between us.”
I hardly dare draw in a breath, and I’m careful to keep from looking her directly in the eye.
So she does have someone. Some guy she’s seeing.
And I’m pretty sure I know who it is.
I want to push for answers, to try to confirm my theory. But if I let her know what my guess is, she can start trying to cover her tracks.
She can’t know that I have any idea how she’s been managing to connect to the outside world from a facility that bans the use of phones, laptops, and other devices.
God, I hope I’m right.
“I’m glad you have someone, Leslie,” I say softly. “And I hope he really does care about you—that he likes you for you, and not just because you manipulated him with sex or whatever. Because when it comes down to it, when the chips are all on the table and you need someone by your side, the only people who will be there are the ones who know you and love you. In spite of all your weaknesses and flaws.”
I turn toward the door, but stop with my hand on the knob and look back over my shoulder.
“I used to think you were one of those people to me. Now I know better. But I should thank you for helping me find the people who really are.”
With that, I leave the room.
19
Emma
My legs shake as I make my way back through the hallways toward the front desk. I see a few orderlies walking through the corridors, but they ignore me as they go about their work. My mind is whirling, putting puzzle pieces together as I sort through the conversation I just had with Leslie.
She gave away more than she meant to, I know that much. She might not even realize she gave me information I can use, but she did.
The question is, did she give me enough to complete the puzzle?
When I reach the front desk again, I smile at the woman who greeted me when I arrived. My gaze flashes down to read the name tag pinned to her shirt.
Cheryl Becker.
“How was your visit?” she asks as I approach. I see her gaze flit toward the clock on the wall, and I wonder if she’s noticed that my chat with Leslie didn’t last very long.
“It was… good,” I say. “We each got some things off our chests, I think.” I lean on the front counter a little, lowering my voice. “She really hasn’t had any other visitors?”
“No.” Cheryl shakes her head. “None. Except her family, twice.”
