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As if I don’t know that.
“Our angle, Mrs. Ellison, is corruption within the justice system.”
I scoff a laugh and roll my eyes. “That’s hardly news.”
“It is when a judge gives preferential treatment to his son. Your husband was never prosecuted because of the family he was born into. Doesn’t that make you angry?”
Of course it makes me angry. It haunts my sleep, but I left this behind. I don’t want to relive my past. I shouldn’t have to.
He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a business card. I leave it resting in the air between us.
“If you ever feel like talking, please contact me.”
“And if you ever have actual proof, please come back to me.”
His hand is on my arm again, his eyes soft and imploring.
I might think Benjamin is a nice guy if he wasn’t trying to shed light on the parts of my past I buried deepest.
“We do have proof.” He grimaces, sympathy I don’t want radiates from him as every second ticks by and he’s still touching me.
I study him, unsure if he’s telling the truth. He must be lying. There is no proof. Anything of mine is long gone. Rob made sure of it before he put a gun to his head.
“Please get your hands off me.” My voice breaks, and if he feels the tremble in my hands, he doesn’t react to it.
“It’s best if you tell us your side before people make their own assumptions.”
He’s still touching me. It’s featherlight but there. The air releases from my lungs and won’t come back.
“Please—”
“If she has to ask you again to remove your hands, I’ll remove them for you. So, I suggest you do it while the bones are still intact.”
Benjamin quickly steps away, and my eyes snap to the man standing at his back—hands in his suit pocket, the briefest glimpse of a tattoo peeking over the white collar. I know his eyes are emerald green because I somehow committed them to memory all those years ago. But the dark specks are all that are showing now. My chest tightens until it hurts. The city lights merge into a single blur. The distant sirens become a muted echo, and the cool air feels like a blistering inferno on my skin.
No. No. No.
“If you want to talk—” Benjamin tries to say, but he sounds lightyears away.
Jade eyes remain locked with mine, but he’s not speaking to me. “Don’t fucking look at her.”
The man is as intimidating as he is gorgeous. He’s lethal and just as I remember.
He hasn’t changed. Not one bit.
I hold my breath as he dips his chin and says, “Bethany Rose.”
Oh God.
Panic coils around my belly, the vague bass of voices beginning to dim.
He remembers me.
I wondered over the years if he would.
I’ve thought about him. Some days it was an obsession. A comfort to look back on the girl I was that night and know he was the last one to see her. That’s how he remembered me, and it was a solace I clung to every time I looked in the mirror and could no longer find her.
But now he knows.
