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So unless a miracle happens, I’m going to tell her who I am…and that I have the video that enabled her to escape prosecution. Then maybe I’ll get what I came here for in the first place: justice for my dad.
Now that Bethany has torn my fucking heart out of my chest, ripped it to shreds, and spit on it, nothing else matters.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The following afternoon, we drive into work. We’ve barely spoken since we woke on opposite sides of the bed.
I received an email with the video from Bret late this morning, along with apologies that he came home and fell asleep almost instantly because the drive was long and, because of a freak accident on I-5 in Santa Ana, traffic was a bitch. The footage is still on my phone, unwatched. I can’t bring myself to open it and see beyond any doubt that Bethany has betrayed me. To know that I fell for someone and I now have the power—and the responsibility?—to destroy her because maybe that’s what she deserves.
But I also can’t bring myself to stop looking at her, wanting her, wishing she’d explain everything away so I could go on blissfully believing her.
What a fucking fool. I knew before I met her that she played corporate games to win. I thought if I didn’t pit myself as her foe, if I approached her instead as a friend and a lover, that she would be human and honest. But no. Maybe she never learned integrity since her father used—and warped—her for his gain. Unless none of that is true, either.
Or maybe I’m letting suspicion get the best of me because it seems crazy that I could fall so hard and fast for a habitual liar and a heartless criminal.
I’m at a decision point now. What I choose next will either make or break us.
“You okay?” Beth asks softly as she stashes her purse in her locker at the back of the bar.
She’s asked me at least ten times today.
“Fine,” I lie.
“Do we need to talk about something?”
Everything. Make all this confusion go away so I can believe in us again…
But odds are, that isn’t going to happen.
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind after my brother called last night. I need to sort it out. We’ll talk after the shift, okay?”
She looks reluctant to let the matter go. “Sure. If you need some space to think, that’s understandable. But if you want to talk, if you need a sounding board… You’ve been so good about that with me, I’d be happy to return the favor.”
Because she means that or because she wants another opportunity to gather info and figure out a way to use it so she can keep screwing me over?
God, I hate this fucking uncertainty.
I nod her way, and she clocks in before leaving the break room. I can tell she’s worried. Vaguely, I wonder if I actually matter to her or if pretending to give a shit is all part of the act.
Ash told me I had to rip the Band-Aid off and be honest with her. He was right; I do. I’ve got to force myself to sit down with the footage, take it all in—no matter how hard it is—then man up and let the chips fall.
“How did last night go?” my pal asks as he saunters in, low-voiced. “Did you tell her?”
“No.” I close my eyes. I have no doubt he can see my misery all over my face. “I think she played me after all.”
He rears back in shock. “What makes you think she’s guilty?”
“Everything I was too busy falling for her to see.”
“I’m sorry, man. Really.” He claps me on the shoulder. “If you need an ear or a sofa, you know where to find me.”
I nod, and he clocks in. Before he leaves the break room, he pauses. “I don’t know if it matters to you, but as I came this direction a minute ago, I noticed the dude in the loud Hawaiian shirt with the even louder mouth is back. He’s already drunk. I think he’s unstable.”
Great. I don’t need Paul Daniels adding another wrinkle to this mess. I’ll keep an eye on him. Whatever Bethany’s sins—and they might be plenty—she doesn’t deserve his violence.
“Thanks.”
With a nod, Ash leaves.
Finally, I’m by myself. And I’m out of excuses. I have to watch the video.
My hands shake as I shut the door. No one else should come in here since our shift is about to start. If I gave a shit about this job—or anything but the truth—I’d be out there helping Ash set up. But he’ll cover for me since he knows I need a few minutes.
Finally, I launch my email, ignoring everything but the attachment from my brother. Before I see a single image, I already know this is going to hurt like hell.
