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I jerk back, shaking my head. “Fake? What was fake? What does that mean?”
“Nothing, just… Nothing,” he says, shaking his head as he begins to pace.
“The life insurance policies are fake?” He shakes his head, stopping with his back to me. He stares out the window, his hands on his waist as he hangs his head.
“Your life, the relationship. It wasn’t real, Em.”
“It wasn’t fake, Mads. It wasn’t.” He refuses to look at me as rage begins to boil my blood. “Just because he had his demons and hid stuff doesn’t mean he didn’t love me. He loved me,” I say through tears as I smack my chest, unsure who I’m trying to convince at this point.
“No, he didn’t, Emery. He didn’t love you. He couldn’t love anyone but himself.” He shakes his head as he finally turns around to face me, his eyes full of pity as he looks down at me, and deep inside, for some unexplainable reason that I want to ignore but can’t, I know he’s right. I try to take in a deep breath, but it feels like there’s a semi on my chest. “You’re going to hate me.”
“Just tell me, please,” I beg.
“I’ve never seen someone snort more cocaine off a hooker’s ass than Dane. I had to revoke his membership and kick him out of The Scarlett Letter because he kept sneaking hookers in and then refusing to pay them. I’ve never seen someone manipulate and use people with zero regard for anything but what he wanted. I know you think I’m heartless and yeah, to most, I probably am, but Dane… He was a textbook psychopath, only driven by his own desires.”
“NDAs?” I ask, the room feeling like it’s starting to spin. My brain can’t comprehend all of the things he’s saying to me. “Did he make the women signs NDAs?”
“Yes,” he says.
It feels like my world is falling down all around me… what’s left of it anyway. I’m in shock; I have to be. The tears suddenly stop and I’m left completely numb. I sit in silence for several minutes that feel like hours.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I know it’s pointless to ask him, but I want him to explain why.
“Because I’m a coward. Because it’s my fault all this happened.”
“Your fault?”
“I’m the one who pointed you out to him. I’m the one who told him to go after you when your parents died. I told him how rich you were, that he could get you to fall in love with him, and then he could ride your name and money to whatever success he could imagine.”
I’m hearing the words and understanding them, but they’re not sinking in. It’s like my emotions are completely shut off as he continues to talk. He grabs the bottle of scotch and brings it to his lips, drinking straight from the bottle as he sinks down into the chair.
“I didn’t think he would do this. I thought he would fall in love with you, and everything would work out. That you’d have kids and the white picket fence and all that shit.” His words flow out of him like he’s been waiting to say all of this, like a wave of relief is settling over him. “I thought he’d be happy with everything he had, the business he managed to build, but I was naive too. He held it over my head that it was my idea for him to use you, to trick you so even if I told you the truth about him, he’d lie and either convince you I made it up out of jealousy or you wouldn’t even believe me in the first place.”
“That’s a pathetic excuse,” I spit at him.
“It’s not an excuse. I tried warning you. I told you the man you slept next to was dangerous, but you chose not to believe me. So keeping his secret and staying by his side was the only way I could keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” The words disgust me. How can he think this was keeping me safe? “You ruined my life. You’re a liar and a coward!” I stand up, the tears coming back as I point my finger at him. “You’re just as bad as him!”
He takes a long drink from the bottle again, leaning back in the chair, his legs extended out in front of him as he stares up at the ceiling.
“You think you were keeping me safe by keeping me from the truth? That’s a pathetic way to ease your conscience.”
“No,” he says softly, silence settling between us for a few seconds. “I didn’t keep you safe by keeping his secrets,” he says as he slowly sits up. He places the bottle on the table and then stands up, looking down at me with an icy stare. “I kept you safe by killing your husband before he could kill you.”
16
MADS
Iexpect her to burst out into hysteria or lunge at me, but she just stares at me blankly. A single giant tear falls from her right eye and tumbles down her cheek where it splashes on the floor.
“Emery?” She sits perfectly still; the only sign of movement is her trembling chin.
“Y—you ki—killed him?” she finally manages to choke out.
“I’m sorry that this is how everything played out, Emery. If I could have changed things, I would have, but I’m not—I’m not sorry I killed him. I’d do it over again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you alive.”
“You killed him.” She repeats the words in a hushed tone, like she can’t actually comprehend what she’s saying. “You killed him? Why?” She lifts her head slowly to look up at me, her eyes now filled with tears, her face ashen.
