CHAPTER THIRTY
Zach
“You bitch!”
“You should go kill yourself!”
“Shame on you!”
“You’re going to burn in hell!”
The voices shouted in the video playing on my computer screen, which showed an angry crowd gathered on the street, ready to ambush Blair.
Reporters and TV cameras were close by. Blair appeared on camera just then, walking next to her mother.
The voices grew even louder, overlapping with booing and people chanting, “Down with Blair Everett.”
Although she appeared unfazed, walking straight with her chin raised high and a blank facial expression, I didn’t miss how she’d flinched twice. Once more, she was putting on an act, which became more evident as she drew closer to the gathered people and her jaw began to tighten.
“You’re not better than us!” one woman shouted.
Blair’s mother wound her arm around Blair’s shoulders and hurried her forward, their driver following them closely. There was no way for them to escape the crowd, and I watched them push through them until a young teenage girl got in their way.
“I admired you so much, Blair. I wanted to be like you. But you’re a bully and a slut, and you deserve to rot in hell!” She yanked an egg from a small box she carried and threw it at Blair.
Blair cried out, the egg splattering all over her white blouse before she could cover herself.
“How does it feel, huh? How does it feel to be on the receiving end?” The girl launched more eggs at her, striking her shoulder, hip, and leg, and with each hit, Blair curled more into herself, her face full of terror. The crowd went wild.
Their driver rushed around to shield her as the people started closing in on her, hurling all kinds of insults at her. Shoving some of them away with his arm, he guided Blair and her mother back to where they came from. Some people started clapping.
“Down with Blair Everett! Down with Blair Everett! Down with Blair Everett! Down with Blair Everett!”
The video ended there.
I stared at the screen, the silence around me stretching into seconds, minutes . . . Then I played the video again. And again. And again.
Nothing. I didn’t feel an ounce of satisfaction. With each replay, my anger only welled up until it felt like it would burst, and I couldn’t take it. I shoved the screen to the side and shot up out of my chair.
I crossed my living room over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and slammed my hand against the wall, hanging my head.
I should fucking celebrate. Her downfall was as glorious as I’d imagined it to be.
Instead, it felt wrong.
Instead, I felt like I’d failed.
Instead, I wanted to protect her from every last one of those people who had gathered there.
“Fucking hell.”
The fading sunlight shifted across the glass, revealing my reflection, and I grimaced, turning away from it.
It was as if the universe itself wanted to remind me I should hate her, but it was pointless.
Four days had passed since I got my revenge, since she started getting dragged through the media and receiving all kinds of hate comments, but I only felt more miserable and dissatisfied.
I couldn’t focus on my work, I couldn’t sleep, and every attempt to distract myself brought me back to her.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her writhing in pleasure under me and screaming my name as I pounded into her.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her moans, about her nails and teeth cutting into my skin, about her perfect taste.
My cock didn’t care that she was a liar and the reason for all my pain. It wanted her again and again.
I wanted her, and not just for her body.
The proof of it—the USB dongle with her videos—was right there by my iMac, which I’d decided to keep in my eyesight like some masochist. I’d watched her videos too many times these last few days already, feeding my obsession, and each time my chest hurt as though I was missing her terribly.
The pictures of her I kept in my phone only mocked me.
I fisted my hand against the wall, thinking back to how she looked that night at the gazebo.
The warmth in her voice as she talked about my adoptive parents.
The tears on her face as she told me she was sorry.
The look in her eyes as she kissed my scar.
She seemed so honest, just like in her videos, and I didn’t know what to think.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you found caring people. A family.
“Your scar is beautiful.
“You’re not just your scar. You’re so much more. Never forget that.”
Ah, fuck.
I snatched my phone out of my pocket and headed to her social media. She hadn’t posted anything recently, but that hadn’t stopped me from going through her photos and videos countless times these last few days, hungry for anything that would tell me what was happening with her. Hungry for her.
Now, I tapped on her profile and expelled my breath when it showed a new post. My eyes fastened on it.
The hell?
It showed Blair in a gold dress that was too short, with high heels that made her legs appear to go on for miles, and a lacy black mask covering the upper half of her face. She was in the foyer of her house, looking into her camera.
Where was she going? And shit, why did she have to be so sexy?
My cock already strained my jeans, urging me to stroke it to relieve myself, but more than that, I wanted to punch something.
I wouldn’t be the only one reacting to her, and I didn’t like that.
I didn’t want other men to see her like that, not when I wasn’t there to make it clear to them that no one was to touch her.
With gritted teeth, I read the caption, noting she posted this photo just thirty minutes ago.
“Tonight is the night of masks. But one can wear a mask for only so long. No more hiding. #staytuned.”
The fuck? What was that about?
The doorbell chimed, jolting me out of it. Frowning, I checked the time as I moved to answer the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone.
I pocketed my phone and opened the door, revealing the last person I expected to see here.
“Melody. Hi.”
Melody clutched her hands together, raising her head to meet my gaze. “Hi, Tom. Um, not Tom. Zach.” Her tone was harsher than the one she’d always used with me. So she knew Blair’s and my history now. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
I arched my brow. “Sure.”
She made her way inside, and her brows went up as she looked around my living room.
Her attention snagged on the steel bookshelf loaded with technical books, Newton’s cradle, and several Rubik’s Cubes, then my desk with various gadgets and screens, stopping on the Post-it notes dotting half of the ceiling-high windows, most of them bearing codes.
She couldn’t know, but if she’d seen them just days earlier, she would’ve found notes containing my strategy and the information I’d gathered on Blair before I’d made my move.
“So this is where you live.”
“Yeah.”
She passed the sectional sofa, glancing up the set of stairs that led to the second level as she stopped by the adjoining kitchen. “It’s different from what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
Her brows went even higher as she spotted the large, unfinished puzzle on the kitchen counter, dozens of displaced pieces next to it. The gesture reminded me so much of Blair that it left me momentarily dazed.
“Not a penthouse for sure. Also, I didn’t think you were such a nerd.” Her lips quirked despite her harsh gaze. “It suits you, now that I think about it.”
“How did you find me?”
She turned to face me. “I asked Anna if she knew your address since you two have stayed in contact.”
I’d given Anna my address in case she needed to contact me for any reason, but she wasn’t supposed to share it with anyone else.
As though reading my mind, Melody said, “I promised her I wouldn’t share your address with anyone, which is the only reason she told me. I’m going to keep my word.”
“As long as you really do.”
She tilted her head. “You don’t want even Blair to know?”
“Don’t you think I would’ve told her if I wanted her to know?”
She twisted her lips, flexing her hand around the strap of her backpack. “You hurt her so much.”
“So she told you everything.”
“No, she didn’t, but I have my suspicions. I gather it’s bad, considering she wants to keep it on the hush.”
“What about our past?”
Her gaze went to my scar that I hadn’t bothered to hide, and her eyes flashed with sympathy.
“Yeah, she told me she’s responsible for your scar.
” She moved over to the windows. They offered a beautiful view of the town and its grid of lights currently waking up, with a chain of mountains surrounding it in sharp relief, but it didn’t seem she saw anything as she observed it, her lips pursed.
“I can understand why you’re angry with my sister, but to come up with this elaborate scheme to get back at her and bring it to fruition is so wrong. You went as far as to come to our home and pretend you were someone else in order to hurt her. Who does that?”
“Did you come here to give me a lecture?”
She glared over her shoulder at me. “Don’t you think you deserve it?”
I folded my arms over my chest. “What happened between Blair and me has nothing to do with you.”
Her gaze went wide. “Has nothing to do with me? You hurt my sister, dude! I can’t be fine with that. And despite what you might think, she’s the best human being I know. Sure, she made mistakes, but if you knew the lengths she would go to for those she loves . . . she’s suffered enough.”
I unfolded my arms and stepped forward. “What do you mean?”
She returned her gaze to the town. “You care about her.”
My shoulders stiffened. “What makes you say that?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, with your revenge and all, but I saw the way you look at her. It’s not just hatred you feel for her. But I need to know something. Were you the one who posted that video?”
My jaw clenched. “What does it matter?”