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“It wasn’t there the first few days I was here, and then one morning, I came out of the shower, and it was.”
Well, fuck.
I didn’t think she was that observant, but considering she has nothing but time on her hands, I guess it makes sense.
“You want to break me,” she says. “You think if you watch me, I’ll slip up. I’ll say or do something to betray the truth.”
Heat crawls over the surface of my skin as my frustration grows. “There’s one way to find out.”
I turn to leave, but she calls after me.
“I’m not lying to you, Madden.”
That familiarity on her lips pierces my chest like a hot iron. Red washes over me, and it’s all I can see when I return her gaze.
“Don’t call me that again,” I warn. “That name is dead to you.”
“I don’t think he is,” she whispers. “I think he’s still in there somewhere.”
“Never fucking call me that again!” I roar.
“You were in there for a bit,” Birdie remarks as she files her nails at the kitchen table.
“Don’t you have a kid to get back home to?”
She rolls her eyes. “She’s napping with her father. And in case you forgot, I’m not the enemy here.”
“Well, it sure as hell seems like you’ve bought into her bullshit real quick.” I walk to the fridge and grab a beer.
“Can I give you some advice?” She pauses her filing to look up at me.
“No.”
“Well, buckle up, you stubborn ass, because I’m going to anyway.” She stuffs the file back into her purse and watches me as I flip the lid off the beer. “You’ve had her locked in there for weeks with a literal horror show of photos. God only knows what else you’ve done, but it obviously isn’t working.”
“She’ll break eventually.” I shrug, but even as I say it, I’m not convinced.
“Or maybe she really doesn’t remember.” Birdie sighs. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
Silence falls between us as I consider her question. The truth is, I don’t have a simple answer. But knowing her, it feels too improbable. She was with Adam when he died. She’s the only person who knows what happened, and it’s far too convenient to say she doesn’t remember. I didn’t want to believe it back then, but this is the Bianca her father tried to warn me about. And knowing what I do now, I’d have to be a fool to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“She’s a goddamn liar,” I mutter. “That’s all there is to it.”
“Keep it down,” Birdie hisses. “She can hear you in there, you know.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” I scrape a hand across my face. “Let her hear me. Then she’ll know her games aren’t going to work.”
Birdie stares at me as if I’m from another planet. “You ever heard the saying you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’ve tried psychological torture, and it hasn’t gotten you anywhere.”
“Your point?” I take a sip of my beer, wishing it was whiskey. I haven’t been down to the clubhouse in weeks, and I’m itching to go.
“I’m going to play devil’s advocate for a minute.” Birdie shushes me when I try to protest. “Just hear me out. Let’s say she’s being honest, and she can’t remember. Or even if she’s not, she’s obviously got a reason to keep her secrets. A reason so profound she’s content to remain locked in your game room eating crappy-ass sandwiches.”
“All she has to do is admit she doesn’t like them,” I say.
“Regardless, you aren’t getting it out of her by being an asshole. So there’s only one alternative.”
“Torture?” I mock.
“Can you not be a dick for two seconds?” She huffs.
“Okay, tell me about this magical alternative you think will solve everything.”
Birdie hesitates for a second, and I know I won’t like what she has to say. As it turns out, I’m right.
“If you want her to remember who you are, you have to remind her who you were.”
Chapter 30
Madden
—PAST—
“Hey fuckface, it’s time to wake up.”
I groan, rolling over onto my back and instantly regretting the amount of tequila I drank last night. Vague fragments of my bad decisions start to connect in my brain as I wonder where the hell I am and why I’m about to puke my guts out. And then I remember. Tori fucking Campbell.
Oh Christ, I almost went there.
I open my eyes, and Adam glares down at me.
“Is she gone?” I croak.
“Yes, she’s gone.” His jaw muscle ticks. “I sent her packing. What the hell was that, dude?”
“What?” I sit up and rub my eyes, glancing around the pool house. Apparently, I passed out in here.
“My ex-girlfriend?” he clips out. “Seriously?”
“What do you care?” I mutter. “You’re with Bianca now.”
“It doesn’t matter who I’m with. That doesn’t give you the green light to get with my exes, asshole. It’s bro code.”
