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“It’s all I’ve thought about since we came home,” I say, helping her out of the vehicle.
Except the knowing look we share says that isn’t true.
Destiny has taken up infinitely more real estate in my mind than revenge, no matter how well deserved.
We thought about calling ahead, but the last thing we wanted was to give her a chance to prepare, let alone run.
Destiny also talked me into letting her come along for the ride. If I’d had my way, she’d never go near the woman again, but she insisted this was the only way to do it our way, and not just mine.
A few more steps, and here we are.
Dess reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out her phone to reassure herself it’s there while I rap on the door.
When Adriana opens it, her mouth pops open with a wet smacking sound.
She’s wearing purple blush lipstick and a black blouse that’s unbuttoned just enough to show a little overtanned cleavage.
Got to keep up appearances, I suppose, even in the privacy of her own home.
The color drains from her face and she moves to block the doorway.
“Oh, no. Foster, I—”
She never finishes before I storm into a picture-perfect living room that looks like a model showroom, spotless and modern.
“I didn’t say you could come in! What do you think you’re doing?” She spits, finally recovering enough to yell at us as we head for the open kitchen.
She follows, her heels clopping against the polished wood. Her hand strays to her phone.
“Leave now or I’m calling the police. I didn’t invite you in.”
“Call them anytime. The conversation should be riveting.” I throw her my coldest stare.
Her face clouds with uncertainty, and she’s too paralyzed to move.
I give her a tight smile, mindful of the woman on my arm.
For Destiny’s sake, I promised I wouldn’t lose my temper. It takes searching every molecule I am to stay indifferent.
“Why are you here?” Adriana huffs out.
“I thought about coming in a sheet. I figured we could show up as ghosts,” I say slowly. “However, since you never got the news you were hoping for about a sunken yacht tragedy, it wouldn’t have the same effect.”
“Sunken yach—oh. Oh, no. You’re being ridiculous,” she says weakly, her face rippling with shock.
Destiny tilts her head as I cast her a long look.
What’s next is all hers.
And hell, I’m not going to stop her. She deserves her moment in the sun.
“Adriana,” she says, and the other woman stops glaring at me just long enough to look at her. “You must have been so scared when you got the news. I’m sure you’ve been expecting cops any day.”
Adriana cranes her head like a snake, fighting back her nerves.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have time for games,” she says stiffly.
“Oh, really? That’s funny. I have to make time for a new game every night, where I hold my dog when she wakes up howling, traumatized from almost being drowned.” Destiny frees her hand from my arm and stalks over to the large table, trailing her nails along the black metal and glass.
