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His thumb glides over my cheek right under my eye, fingers sliding into my hair, his warm palm slowly cradling my face. The silence coils around us like a familiar presence, centering me back into my body and far away from the demons nipping at my heels.
His eyes are hard, but the corners soften when he finally speaks. “I know you’re hiding something from me. And I know it’s bigger than just your piece of shit ex.” His other hand lands on my hip, pushing me into the mattress and holding me there. I swallow hard. “I don’t care how long it takes. But I will find out. And when I do?” he growls low, his eyes shining purposely in the dark. “I’ll kill them all, darling.”
He’s gone before I even have time to blink, like a wraith slipping back into the ether. I’m left alone with my thoughts, his last words still ringing loudly in my ears.
Chapter 29
Hiddeninadarkcorner of The Chelsea, I glare at nothing in particular, hand wrapped around my drink on the table. Bastian sits next to me in the large booth, laptop open, the light of the screen accentuating his blank features. He’s barely said a word in over an hour, simply grunting or nodding whenever I even bother to speak to him. Typical.
“Remember that girl we saw in a wedding dress at that diner we used to go to before Martha died?” I say pensively.
Bastian gives me an odd look and settles back into his seat, closing his computer.
“Yeah…”
“I wonder what happened to her.”
“Why?”
My annoyance spikes. “Fucking Christ, I don’t know. I’m just saying.”
He continues to stare at me as if it’s bizarre that I’m bringing this up out of the blue. Hell, I don’t fucking know why my thoughts wandered over to that night in particular. They just did.
“Anyway…” he says, clearly uninterested in furthering this conversation. “I’ve got some news on your missus.”
Irritated, I readjust my coat jacket and smooth out my mustache before speaking. “Don’t call her that.”
“Well, that’s what she is, isn’t she?”
I shoot him a glaring look, but don’t bother responding.
Just the mention of Lenix makes my jaw clench. It’s been almost a week since I’ve truly spoken to her. Not since I woke her up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and saw what kind of fear she hides under all that glitter. The need to eviscerate whoever instilled that fear in her was so strong I could barely hold it together. I left before I did something I’d regret, like hold her to my chest so she could fall back asleep in the safety of my arms. I was mostly convinced she’d push me off the bed anyway.
She’s been subdued since then, keeping to herself and I’ve kept my distance in turn. The only reason I know she’s home most nights is because of the camera still installed in her room. I thought she’d have found and removed it by now. But it’s still there. And I still watch.
Bastian doesn’t bother pretending he’s even slightly affected by my death glare, his face stays impassive as he just stares right back. Finally the fucker speaks. “I didn’t find any evidence that Lenix evenhasan ex-fiancé.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What about the license plate I gave you?”
Bastian shakes his head. “Rented under a fake name from what I can tell. I even scanned his face in every database I could think of but nothing came up. It’s like the dude lives off-grid or something.”
I can’t help but feel vindicated. I knew she was lying. Now it’s just a matter of finding out why and most importantlywhat.
“There’s more,” Bastian says while signaling to the server for another round. When he looks back at me, I find a small glint in his eyes. Finding dirt on people has always been his favorite pastime. “Lenix Taylor only started appearing on record around twelve years ago. I couldn't find anything about her beforehand. And considering how little Ididfind, looks to me like she’s deliberately keeping a low profile.” He pauses, taking the drink the server hands him and I lean over to take mine. He takes a small sip, a hint of a smile on his face before he adds, “Your wife is hiding something alright, but whatever it is, it’s much bigger than just a sleazy ex.”
I stay silent for a beat, my mind churning out possibilities while I bring the glass to my lips. “He called her Penelope,” I muse. Bastian looks over and raises an eyebrow. “Her ex-fiancé, he called her Penelope. When I asked her about it later she told me Lenix was her middle name.”
“She was lying.”
“I got that much,” I reply with a scowl.
Shrugging his shoulders, he starts packing his shit and stands up. “I’ll look into it, but I can’t promise you anything.” And with barely a goodbye, he strolls out of the bar.
It’s late in the evening when I get back home. From the foyer, I notice some light filtering from the kitchen and follow it. I find Lenix at the kitchen island, laptop open and binders full of fabric piled beside her, a glass of rosé clutched in her hand. Her long legs are uncovered, her bare feet perched on the stool. She has a loose oversized t-shirt on, looking like she’s wearing just that and nothing else. Her shoulders lift in surprise when she hears me walk in but says nothing, taking a sip of wine instead.
“Working?” I ask.
“Barely,” she mutters, closing her computer with a sigh. She lifts her arms over her shoulder and stretches, the hem of her shirt riding up her thigh. My eyes track the movement, now wondering if thereissomething under that cotton shirt.
