Chapter 36
36
Love is Madness (feat. Halsey) - Thirty Seconds to Mars
I leave Riley for two days. And by leave, I mean I watch her obsessively on the cameras, and sometimes—often—I sit outside the door as she rages inside. Everything in the room is bolted down. The mirror isn’t breakable—she tried—and the windows are bulletproof glass. I took away anything that could be used as a weapon, and I just watch her. She’s beautiful, even when she’s angry. Especially when she’s angry.
She refuses to speak to me.
Which will simply not do.
I stand in the bedroom across from hers, staring at my phone screen. Like I have twenty times already today, I stare at the prison’s number on my screen. I should just call and have Noel dealt with. I have the people, and I have the money.
But I don’t call. Because what I need is details. I need to know how exactly I’m going to ruin Noel’s life, minute by minute, hour by hour, year by year. I could do anything, but I want this to be personal. I want to know every single thing he did to her so I can pay it back tenfold.
The thought crossed my mind to pay my people to beat the truth out of him. But I immediately shut that down. I refuse to let anyone else hear my wife’s intimate trauma. That’s for me, and me alone, so I can protect her from it.
But Riley won’t talk to me. So, I tried other methods to find exactly what Noel did. I searched police records, I called my contacts, and I cussed Riley’s mom out for dying and taking what she knew to the grave. My contact knew about Noel—he was a low-down member of our organization at one point—but all he knew about was the arrest, and he confirmed it wasn’t because of Riley.
I clench my jaw and slowly put my phone back in my pocket. She just needs to talk to me. I want to shake the truth out of her. My vision has been blurry since I found out, and my body practically vibrates.
I stalk to Riley’s room, unlock it, and push in.
She’s lying on the couch, as she usually is. She hasn’t touched the bed.
“How long?” I can’t look at her. I’m already breaking my rules: don’t do something without thinking.
“Have you been feeding Rachel?” she asks, sounding bored.
My skin gets hot. “Answer the question, Riley. How long did Noel do what he did?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her sit up. She raged and screamed the whole first day, but she’s gone oddly quiet. Now, her voice is calm. “I want to talk to him.”
Immediately, I snap my gaze at her. “No.”
She shrugs. “Don’t worry, Manson, I won’t fuck him. Not that you have a say over who I do and don’t fuck.”
She says it so flippantly that I want to wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze. I want to watch the oxygen drain from her blood until she acknowledges that I’m the only one who gets to touch her. That I’m the one who will punish anyone for daring to do otherwise.
“No?” Riley shrugs. “Then enjoy your silence. Oh, and I want a pack of cigarettes.” She rolls over on the couch and gives me her back. Her pretty, curvy shoulders, waist, and ass.
I stalk out of the room before I actually choke her. It takes a full twenty minutes of pacing the house before I calm down enough for my hands to stop shaking.
It’s nearly five, so it’s time for me to feed Rachel. Not that I want to, but Riley asks about it every time I go into her room. I know she’s doing it to piss me off, but still, I feed her.
Today, I bring down a sandwich on a paper plate. I take a deep breath at the top of the stairs, then head down. As usual, Rachel doesn’t try to plead. She hasn’t cried, not once, but I know she knows she’s screwed.
This time, when she takes the plate, she frowns at me. “Are you both done being idiots?”
I blink.
She just glares at me. Rachel has pretty eyes. They’re softer than Riley’s and quieter. More observant with a lighter, golden brown hue.
“Excuse you?” I look her up and down.
She just starts picking the crust off the sandwich. “I can hear her screaming, you know.”
She can hear it all the way from down here. I hate that. I cock an eyebrow. “You think just because Riley defends you that you’re safe?”
“No, I know I’m not safe at all.” Rachel takes a bite, and despite myself, I sit there and watch her. She’s mouthy. Riley definitely likes mouthy. She picks fights with me any chance she gets. Is that what Rachel has that I don’t?
I watch Rachel eat, noticing the skin around her nails is bloody and ripped up.
Rachel sighs. “So, like, are you gonna kill me now or later? The suspense is killing me.”
“Later. Once I can convince Riley she’s making a huge mistake.” Again, I expect some big emotion out of Rachel, but she’s just still for another moment, then takes a bite. Slowly, she starts picking at her bloody fingers absently.
“What did Riley say?” I ask. “When you were at Noel’s?”
Rachel blinks, then focuses on me. “What?”
“What did she say? About him?”
She looks up and away, which I know means she’s remembering. “Nothing, really.”
“Right.” I draw the word out.
Rachel glares at me. “I told you the first time I met you that I’m an honest person. I don’t lie. Riley said nothing. There was no one there. Nothing there.”
“Then why did she take you there?” I narrow my eyes.
Rachel snorts like I asked something amusing. When I just look at her, she stares at me. Then she shakes her head. “You’re just as clueless as she is, aren’t you?”
I clench my jaw.
“How? How is this my life?” Rachel’s voice is pitched high. “My whole life, I’ve struggled to understand people. I’m always thinking about how I read a situation wrong, but there are people out there who are worse than me, and now I have to explain it to them in a way that won’t get me killed?” She gives an incredulous laugh. “Man, fuck my life.”
I just eye her.
“Look.” Rachel runs a hand through her blue-streaked hair. “You guys need to figure out a way to flirt with each other that isn’t fighting. And killing.”
I stare blankly at her.
“You’ve really fucked up. I’ve never seen a woman more pissed off at someone in my life. Whatever you did, you royally fucked it up.”
I’m up and at Rachel’s throat in a flash. I pin her against the stairway railing. “What did you just say?”
She laughs, and I can feel her throat bobbing in my hand. How easy it would be to crush it.
She puts her small hands over mine. Her touch is so delicate, I hardly feel it. I apply pressure, watching her arch her back.
“I could help you.” She gasps. “But you’d have to keep me alive. Give me a bed. And a real toilet.”
I stare down at the tiny woman who’s become almost as big a pain as Riley. Is she actually…bargaining with me? “And why would I do that?”
“Because,” she coughs and laughs. “I have something you don’t.”
“And what’s that?” I narrow my eyes.
“Love.” She meets my gaze. “I know how to love. And you need that if you’re ever going to get your wife to love you back.”