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I delete the message chain and set Jamie’s phone back on the nightstand exactly where he left it.
When the bathroom door opens, I'm already back in bed, tucked under the covers exactly where Jamie left me. He lunges and dives onto the bed, throwing himself under the covers.
"Oh—you're wet!"
Jamie pokes his head out from beneath the blanket and kisses my chest. "But you're so warm."
I'm colder than he thinks, but I don't let him in on that. I just hope the frost I feel inside melts away when I am done. I’ve never been like this. Sometimes, I even scare myself. I have to keep in mind that this is for a reason. That the Jamie I see is not the real one. I have to keep reminding myself that this ‘caring loving’ Jamie is nothing but an illusion to keep his toy from running away for as long as he is entertained with it. That just like me, he is biding his time to break me. Destroy me. This is a two-way game, and I intend to win. Because unlike his, my whole life has been a losing streak, and my time to change that is now.
"Spend the night tonight?"
Hesitating, I run my hand through his wet hair. "Gary and I have plans after work, otherwise I would."
He sighs. "Fine. I guess I can't keep you all to myself. Even though I want to."
I kiss his lips and smile. "And that's what I love about you."
Chapter 19
Lara
Wesley'sispackedwhenI arrive a little before ten that night, armed with nothing but my words. Except those words are a fumble in my brain. Why did I come here tonight? To ruin Jamie's friendship with his high school friend, obviously. If that’s even who thisMarkis. If I'm going to take Jamie down, I need to attack him from all angles—professional, personal… but this one is a little more difficult, since I’m drawing at straws.
If itisMark Rockwell from the football team, he was quiet and unassuming. I have no issue with him, but he is the only person Jamie ever talks about from high school.
I'm pretty sure Mark is Jamie's only friend, which means he has to go. If I'm going to break Jamie, then Mark may end up suffering too.
He's innocent collateral in a game that has nothing to do with him. But such are the consequences of being friends with Jamie.
God, who have I become? If I look too closely in the mirror, I’ll see darkness and pain. Someone I hate.
No. I can’t think about that now or I’ll turn around and go home, curl up in my bed and cry until the world fades around me. Until I am no longerme. I have to stay focused. I have to keep in mind the harm that can come to me and others if I don’t go through with this lesson. I have to do this. I do. I have to keep in mind that my plan is what matters, and if a couple of other people get caught in the process, then so be it.
The hostess at the door, a young college student, flashes me a smile full of braces, bringing back a flood of memories…
"Can I help you?"
"Oh, my friend is already here." I slip past her and move toward the center of the restaurant. I barely remember what thisMarkguy looks like, so I take out my phone and zoom in on the picture I snapped earlier that morning. The photograph from Jamie's safe is almost ten years old, but he can't look too different, right?
Wrong.
I circle the bar twice before recognizing him. In high school, there was a lightness to Mark's presence. He smiled effortlessly and carried himself like a guy who had the entire world in his hands. I remember a time watching him walking the halls between classes. It was like he was floating instead of walking.
TheMarkI glimpse in the dark booth at the back of the restaurant sinks deep into the plastic fabric of the bench as if he's carrying the weight of someone three times his size. Except he's not overweight. Quite the opposite. He's gaunt, his cheekbones protruding beneath purple circles stamped beneath graying eyes. His vacant stare is haunting. As if the whiskey he's staring into holds all the answers.
I slide into the booth next to him, the cracked pleather squeaking beneath me. My jacket is zipped over my Eden's uniform and I've stuffed my hair into a hat.
Even though I’ve just invaded his private booth, it takes Mark an unusually long time to notice my presence. He glances up, his brows furrowed. His gaze travels past me to the bar.
"It's just me tonight."
He clears his throat and releases his vise-like grip on his whiskey, wiping the sweat off his palm onto his knee. "Sorry, do I know you?"
"I'm Lara. A friend of Jamie's."
He tilts his head to the side and squints, then closes both eyes as if looking for something inside.
He opens his eyes, turning his empty gaze toward the bar. "Oh, is he here? We were supposed to meet at ten." Mark's Adam's apple bobs up and down as he gulps. "I didn't know he was bringing company."
