Chapter Twelve #2
He’s pretty relaxed for a guy about to confront the fucker who kidnapped his wife and kept her prisoner for five years and then tried to sell her into the sex-trafficking trade. He’s pretty chill for a guy who’s going to sit face-to-face with the man who drugged up his sister like a rat in a lab, and Christ, I could keep going but what’s the point. Zane’s composure impresses me. Maybe it’s the suit.
I want to do more than break Black’s nose for what he did to Zarah.
On the other side of the room, a door creaks open, and two guards wearing the same uniform as the others pushes Ashton Black into the visitation area. His hands are secured behind his back, the legcuffs chain clinking as he walks, and he’s wearing an orange jumpsuit all prisons utilize. The harsh color doesn’t do much for his complexion, but his hair looks good. He pulled a favor somehow and wasn’t subjected to a buzz cut.
Black looks at Zane, and just for a second there’s something in his eyes. Remorse, guilt, joy, maybe, at seeing an old friend. His eyes harden when he looks at me. I haven’t sat down, and one of the guards nods at me to park it. I do what he says. I can’t risk doing something that will cut our visiting session short. We have a lot to ask and not a whole lot of time.
Black stops at our table, pauses to, I don’t know, think about what he wants to say, maybe apologize for the shit he did to Zane’s family? But all he does is throw the guard closest to him a look. “Come on, Lenny. You know I’m good for it.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about until the guard unlocks Black’s cuffs. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Shaking out his hands, Black says, “Thanks, man.”
“Ah-huh. No fucking around. An asshole higher than God says you get time alone, but fuck if we’re not right outside that goddamned door.”
Cuffs jingling, Lenny and his partner let themselves out the same doors our guys used, and the three of us sit, staring at each other, not quite knowing where to start. I let Zane lead.
Well, I try to let him lead. He sits there, his cool slipping, his hands trembling on the table’s metal surface.
“It’s good to see you,” Black says, and Zane’s head snaps up in a wave of fury so strong I’m almost knocked off the stool.
He reins it in quickly and steadies his hands, but his leg starts to bounce under the table, his aggravated energy needing to go somewhere. “You look all right,” Zane says.
“It’s not bad. They give me all the books I want.” He pauses. “I follow the news. You married Stella. Congratulations. Do you two have a baby yet?”
Zane opens his mouth, and I have no idea what he’s going to say. He presses his lips together and starts over. “No, not yet. We’ve been taking care of Zarah.”
At the mention of her name, Black wilts and sags against the table. “How is she?”
“How do you think she is?” Zane snaps. “She’s confused, scared. Her memories still haven’t come back. We’ve been getting her off that shit you hooked her on, and now we found out she was part of a fucked-up drug experiment and that she may never recover. What did you do to her? ”
Every word Zane says, Black’s complexion worsens. He rubs his hands over his face. “Zane. You know I love her—”
His words stab at my heart. To hear this lunatic say he loves the woman I’ve given my life to.
“Do you? How can you say that after what you did? You sold her, and that still wasn’t enough. You offered her up like a sacrificial lamb.”
“You don’t know what you’re up against!” Black bursts out, and his gaze fly to the door where the guards stand watch on the other side. He lowers his voice. “You have no idea what they made me do!”
“ They?” Zane asks, skepticism so thick in his voice you could cut it with a knife. “They? Who the fuck is that? You sold her to your friends. You were head of the drug trials according to Dr. Stephen Mallory.” Black’s eyes grow wide. “Oh, yeah,” Zane continues, “what the fuck do you think I’ve been doing this past year? Sitting on my ass? I made you believe that’s all I did. That and fuck whores. I’m not the same kid you pushed around while you hid Stella and drugged my sister. Those days are gone.”
“I admit, I had a hand in it, but this is bigger than you, and it’s bigger than me. Bigger than my father. We’re a part of something huge.”
“That sounds like a load of bullshit. Where’s Zarah, Ash? Jerricka Solis kidnapped her. I need to know where her lake house is.”
“I can’t tell you that. It’s starting, and soon everything will come to light. Everything we worked so hard for will come to pass. Listen, Zane, let it happen. I love your sister, you know that. Everything I said that night at your dinner was true. The minute your mother laid her in my arms, I’ve loved her with everything I have.” He sucks in a breath and meets my eyes. “You’ll never be good enough, Davenport. She’s mine, and she always will be. I had her first, against the wall at Temptations. You remember, Zane. The night you introduced me to Stella. Zarah gave herself to me and she promised we would always be together. When I get out—”
“What do you mean, when you get out?” Zane interrupts, and it’s just as well. If Black would have continued, I would have thrown up all over the table.
“After this is done, my father and I will be free. When we are, Mallory will give me the antidote and Zarah and I will marry. The four of us will live as we were meant to, our children will grow up together, like we did.”
“Where’s Zarah, Ash?” Zane asks, his patience almost gone.
“I can’t tell you, but I’m not the only one who knows.” Black looks at me, and the composure he had when he first sat down is slipping. “You know who to ask. He’ll know, but she’s mine. I had her against the wall at Temptations. She’s mine.”
I wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans. “Did you blow up my truck?”
Black shakes his head. “No. That wasn’t me. He wanted to teach you a lesson. He said you never listen, and it’s time you started.”
“Who’s ‘he?’” I don’t know who he’s talking about. Who’s trying to teach me a lesson?
“He paid to have her, the night at the Lyndhurst, but Stella interfered. He was angry I took Stella instead of giving Zarah to him, but it worked out. No one could have predicted Zarah would break down after I took Stella away. It gave us the perfect opportunity.”
“To do what?” Zane pauses. “Ash. We don’t know who you’re talking about.” He grips Black’s shoulder, and I can see the dregs of their friendship in the gesture. Zane has done this many times before.
The guards would discourage the physical contact, maybe cut our visit short, but it seems to calm Black down somewhat. The guy is bonkers, insanity bright in his eyes.
Black licks his lips in agitation. “Cook knows.”
“That doesn’t help us now. Max is dead. You shot him at the fundraiser.”
Ash nods. “Yes. He told me to. He said Max knew too much, and he wanted Zarah. I couldn’t let him have her. She’s mine. She’ll always be mine. You told me I could marry her, Zane, remember? At the club, I asked if I could marry her, and you said yes.”
“Yes, I did. I thought you loved her.”
“I do. She’s mine. We’re King’s Crossing’s royalty. No one said no to us. Everyone loved us. We’ll have that again, as soon as I’m free. My father said be patient, and it will happen.”
Zane lowers his voice and says soothingly, “Why do you think you’ll get out of prison? You’ve hurt too many people, did too many bad things.”
We should call the guards, tell them we’re ready to go. Zane sounds like he’s talking to a child, trying to draw out any bit of information he can. Nothing Black tells us now will hold a kernel of truth. This guy is on his last stop to crazy town.
“Our arrests are part of the plan. I’m where I need to be and he’ll get us out. My father has faith. Wait, he says, and our sacrifices will be rewarded.”
Zane draws the same conclusion I have, thank God. “Thanks for talking to us, Ash. It means a lot.”
Black grabs Zane’s forearm, and he stiffens. “How’s my mother? Have you seen her?”
I don’t know why I bother, but I say, “Stella and I went to see her not long ago. She’s okay.”
Every word he’s said since we’ve sat down has churned my stomach, but despite that, maybe it was his genuine concern for Willow that made me want to give him a real answer. Maybe I wanted to give him a little peace.
“Good, good.” He leans forward. “My father knew. Tell her, my father knew. He wanted her, and my father had no choice, but he knew and he forgave her. Tell her that. Tell her that my father loves her.”
“We will.”
Black screams, “Guard!”
I jump at his sudden outburst, and the four guards burst into the visitation room, hands on their weapons. They realize nothing is happening and relax, but the guard, Lenny, who uncuffed Black, wastes no time securing his hands behind his back.
“Tell Zarah I love her. Tell her, Zane, that she’s mine and she needs to be ready when I get out. Did she get my message? I sent someone to tell her. You can’t have her,” he yells at me, spittle flying out of his mouth, struggling against the guard in an effort to move closer. “You can’t have her. I had her first and she’s mine.”
“All right, tough guy. It’s past your bedtime.”
Two other guards join them, leaving behind the officer who patted us down. “I guess he forgot how to play nice.”
“He never knew,” Zane says, his tongue tucked into his cheek.
The guard laughs.
We retrieve our jackets in silence. I wish I would have counted how many times Black claimed Zarah during our conversation. Five? Six? Twenty? In his mind, somehow, he and Zarah are going to be together.
I wait until we’re outside and alone and then ask, “If Black hadn’t gone nuts, do you think he and Zarah would be married?”
Zane looks at me, his mouth pulled into a frown. “I don’t know. My dad seemed to think they would, but I don’t think Ash was ever right in the head. He had a cruelty about him, even as a kid. Lucille said she saw him one day, pulling legs off a spider.”
“Then they would have married, and he would have beaten her at night and pretended to love her during the day.”
“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t matter now.”
No, it doesn’t. I asked out of my own depraved curiosity. Perhaps to torture myself. If Ash had been decent, like Zane and Kagan, Zarah most definitely would be married now, and I let the idea burn like acid. She wouldn’t be mine, and these five short months we’ve been together, she hasn’t felt like she’s mine, either.
“I didn’t think he’d make it easy,” Zane says, stomping across the parking lot, “but that could have gone a lot worse.”
“Who the fuck was he talking about? He sounded a couple cards short of a deck.”
“He’s not crazy. It’s possible he was playing for the cameras, but he’s not crazy. Everything he does is calculated, designed to have a specific outcome.”
I climb into the truck and burrow deeper into my jacket trying to find a warmth that isn’t there. “Like what?”
“Insanity plea, maybe. But I also got the feeling he did want to share information but didn’t dare give us anything outright. He was talking to you most of the time. You must know who he was referring to.”
I replay the conversation, but I can’t find anything to prove Zane correct. “He was?”
“He couldn’t stop staring at you, and yeah, that’s as creepy as it sounds.”
“He knows I’m dating Zarah and he hates it, that’s all.”
“No. You know who he was talking about. He said it plain as day. You never listen and he wanted to teach you a lesson. Whoever blew up your truck knows where Zarah is.”
“Christ. How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“Whoever it was told Ash to shoot Max. He wasn’t too happy Max was asking questions.”
“You’re assuming Black was talking about the same person, but I think he shot Max for himself. Listen, he still wants your sister, still thinks they’re going to have a life together. At the fundraiser, he knew Max and Zarah were together. He said he keeps up with the news, and he knows Zarah and I are seeing each other. Truth or Dare flashes it around whenever they can.”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right, but even so, that doesn’t help us find Jerricka’s lake house. I hope to Christ she isn’t doing anything to Zarah. That she really did convince her to use the two weeks to only talk.”
“According to the flight attendant, she wanted to fix Zarah so she would be good enough to marry. I’m not stupid. She only said that to convince Zarah to go with her. Jerricka hates me, and by the time we find Zarah, she won’t want anything to do with me. Jerricka’s managed to turn Zarah against me once and she’ll do it again.” I try not to sound as fearful as I feel, but my heart cracks. We’ll find Zarah, and I’ll lose her for good.
Fuck, I’m selfish. This isn’t about me.
Zane turns onto the highway and heads toward the airport. He’s already shaking, and he shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders in agitation. “We won’t give her enough time to do that, to do anything. We’ll ask Stella what she thinks. It will keep my mind off being in the air. All this points to one person.”
“Who? This guy is like a fucking ghost.”
“When I’m through with him, he will be.”
Zane calls ahead and notifies the airport we’re on the way and to ready the plane. The pilot and grounds crew are waiting when we turn onto the airstrip, and Zane, leaving the engine running, passes off the rental.
Stella and Baby are outside, and she’s sniffing around the plane’s wheels. Baby, that is. Stella tries to gauge Zane’s mood, but he’s stoic until we climb the stairs and settle inside. The delicious scent of coffee permeates the air, and I tug off my jacket and drop into a seat, breathing in the comforting aroma. Baby lays in the aisle and rests her head on my boot.
“It didn’t go well,” Stella guesses, pouring coffee. She serves me a mug and kisses my cheek. Zane scowls.
“Thanks. Not as well as I hoped it would go.”
“It went better than he thinks it did,” Zane says, stealing a kiss of his own and one-upping me, licking Stella’s lips.
The pilot warns us there’s a fifteen minute delay in departure. A cargo plane is ahead of us, but Zane and I buckle in. Stella takes a legal pad and a pen out of her bag, sits in the seat next to her husband, and rubs his leg. She hasn’t forgotten he’ll have trouble, but we don’t have time for her to kiss it away. We need to figure out what the fuck is going on.
“Is it a good idea to leave?” Stella asks, echoing my doubts.
“There’s nothing here but the prison, and Ash wasn’t doing so hot when we left. I doubt they’ll let us in to see him again anytime soon,” Zane says, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug. “Banks paved the way—it’s the only reason we got in tonight.”
“You didn’t get anything out of him at all? He had no idea where Zarah is?”
“No. We’re back at square one,” I say, disgust heavy in my voice. What a waste of time.
“Not entirely,” Zane says.
I grunt.
Stella sips her coffee and says, “Banks is trying to find Jerricka’s lake house, and he’ll be landing in the city soon. He said he’ll text the minute he does. Willow’s calling around, but no one will talk to her.”
“King’s Crossing’s elite isn’t opening their arms and welcoming her back?” I ask, not surprised they would turn on her.
“They’re keeping their distance. They don’t want to be associated with anything that even remotely concerns the Blacks. Not everyone who did business with them went to prison, and they don’t want to borrow trouble.”
I swear. “Don’t blame them any, but it’s harder when people won’t talk.” Experience has taught me that.
The plane begins to taxi down the runway, and the pilot asks us to fasten our seatbelts in preparation for takeoff. Zane tightens his hold on the mug, his knuckles white. I have to give the guy credit. He confronted one of his worst fears to help his sister.
Stella and I steady our mugs, but it’s unneeded. The ascent is as smooth as the last time. We level off, and Zane lets out a huge breath. I hope our flight is as uneventful as it was when we flew to Bellwood. Zane wouldn’t do very well if there’s turbulence, no matter if Stella’s here.
“What did Ash tell you?” she asks.
Zane leans forward. “He was very focused on one man. Ash kept saying ‘he’ over and over. He told him to kill Max. He blew up Gage’s truck. Ash said that his father new Willow was sleeping with him , whoever that is.”
I straighten. “That’s not what he said.”
“It’s not what he said, but it’s what he meant. Clayton couldn’t stop it because he wanted her. It’s no wonder Ash sees women as a commodity and not human. Willow was a piece of meat, and Ash learned to treat women that way.”
Stella’s pen flies across the paper. “Back up—you’re going too fast. Let’s start with Max. His death wasn’t an accident. Ash was shooting into the crowd, but it wasn’t in desperation. He aimed at Max.”
“Right, but Black said it was because he knew Max wanted Zarah, and Zarah was his,” I correct Zane. I remember that as clearly as he said it. “He claimed Zarah a million times while we were talking to him.”
“I didn’t take it that way,” Zane disagrees.
“You’re saying Ash didn’t kill Max out of jealousy,” Stella asks Zane, tapping her pen against the pad.
“I don’t believe he did,” he says. “If Ash wanted Max dead, he would have said so. Bragged about doing it. Someone told him to kill Max that night because he was snooping around, and because he wanted Max out of the way so he could have Zarah.”
Stella scrawls on the lined pad, her usual pretty script turning messy in her haste. “She remembered all but one of the men Ash sold her to. I was with her when she gave her statement, and we hoped he was already in prison for working with Clayton, or maybe he bought other girls and was put away for that.”
“Ash said he was there the night of my dinner. The night you interrupted them. Ash said he was angry he didn’t get another night with her.” Zane sighs and sips his coffee.
“It wouldn’t be that easy to access the Lyndhurst records and check the room reservations,” Stella says doubtfully.
He leans back in his chair and tugs on a length of her hair. “Even if we did have the list, how could we narrow that down? And that’s only if they reserved the room in their name. Companies reserve rooms, hell, Ash could have reserved that room. Do you remember a suite number after all these years?”
I listen to Zane and Stella talk, envious of their harmony.
I also realize what they’re getting at. One of Zarah’s jobs could still be out there, a man so filthy he paid Ashton Black for a chance to abuse her. He might have ordered a hit on my brother simply because she and Max were in a relationship, and he turned his anger onto me, blowing up my truck. “Whoever it is has a sick fascination with Zarah, and he must be pretty powerful. No one tells the Blacks what to do.”
“He was one of Zarah’s jobs, and he slept with Willow? You’re sure Ash was talking about the same man?” Stella asks.
Zane nods. “I know Ash. I’d bet all our billions he was talking about the same person.”
Stella’s mouth twists in distaste. “How many lovers did Willow have?”
“You’re best buddies now, you should ask.”
“I only know about Rourke, and that’s enough.”
“Don’t forget the security detail at her building,” I say.
“Oh, right. Gross.”
Zane looks at her, prompting her to agree.
She grimaces. “It might be easier to stomach going through the reservations at the Lyndhurst that night, but I’ll call her after we land. She was cooperative and came to the Crowne, and she was on the phone in our suite when I left.”
“We’re checking out,” Zane says.
The way he said it makes me want to laugh, but I’m too worried about Zarah to give in to any humor. He’s trying to keep it from getting too heavy, and I appreciate that, but laughing now would seem like a betrayal to the kind of trouble I hope Zarah’s not in, but deep down, I know she is.
“Come here?” he asks, and Stella unbuckles her belt and crawls into his lap.
It’s sweet seeing them together, his arms wrapped around her, her head on his shoulder.
“Tell me about Zane’s party,” I say, sliding her legal pad across the table.
While she talks me through memories that are over six years old, I start my own list. Who is this elusive man Black kept referring to? I’m still not sure Zane had it right about Max’s death, but no matter how you interpret Black’s words, there’s someone steering this ship, and there are only so many men involved who have the money and power to do so.
Dr. Martin Pederson
Dr. Stephen Mallory
Ex-governor Alan Guthrie
Out of anyone, Guthrie seems like the most logical choice. He’s rich, as are most politicians, and the Blacks were associated with him—Ash Black and Guthrie’s daughter, Eleanor, had something going besides the sex-trafficking, if I recall, but Zane would know better than me. I bet if we dig a little, we’ll find Guthrie and Clayton Black did business. It’s difficult to find people in King’s Crossing who haven’t.
Guthrie was even hiding out at a lake house when Zane and I paid him a visit. Maybe he’s been seeing Jerricka all along, and they’re out there right now. It would be why we haven’t found anything under her name—because it’s not.
Stella’s voice drifts off, and she dozes in Zane’s arms.
I’ve never seen a man more tortured. Stella’s safe, her hell is behind her, but his sister is missing, and he carries the blame for all of it.
“What have you got?” he whispers.
I show him my list.
His mouth tightens. “We’ll check it out.”
Zane closes his eyes and holds on to Stella.
We’re still flying, and home is only a glimmer in the distance.
Zane and Stella drive back to the Crowne, Pop’s at their place in the country, and I...go home. Zane kindly ordered me a car, his last words telling me to get some sleep. I don’t want to sleep, don’t want to close my eyes for even a second because that’s a second I’m not searching for Zarah.
I haven’t checked my phone, and dropping heavily onto the couch, I pull it out of my jacket pocket. My mother called several times, and in a voicemail, she thanks me for letting her help me pack up Max’s apartment and the trinkets I let her keep off his bookshelf.
The fact that we packed his things this morning is surreal to me, about as surreal as knowing it wasn’t much over twelve hours ago that Zarah went willingly with Jerricka.
I’m scared to find her. I’m scared of what she’ll tell me when we finally do. We could be going through all this work, and she could tell us she wants to stay at Jerricka’s lake house. She could look at me and repeat whatever lies Jerricka wants her to say. That I want her for sex, her money, or the prestige that comes with dating Zarah Maddox, heiress to the Maddox fortune. Jerricka doesn’t want Zarah and me in a relationship, and underneath it all, I hope to God she isn’t right. That I haven’t been pushing Zarah in a direction she wasn’t meant to go.
Mallory’s watch is still inside my pocket, and I pull it out, the plastic crinkling. The blood on the face flaked away, and bits of it settle at the bottom of the evidence bag. When I was trying to connect the dots on the plane, I forgot about Ingrid and why anyone would want to kill her.
I’m vindicated, but also sorrier than hell, that Mallory confirmed the murders of the women who were patients at Quiet Meadows. It’s my fault Meredith and Troy are dead. I should have worked harder to prove Savannah didn’t kill herself. That will always be on me.
I have a difficult time believing Black could be behind their deaths, behind anything. Zane might know him better than I do, but if he was acting for the cameras, he did a fine job. Maybe we shouldn’t have talked to Ash. Maybe Clayton would have been a more reliable source of information.
Max’s journal lays on the coffee table where I left it.
Someone wanted him dead.
Zane thinks someone made Ash do it.
But that means whoever ordered the hit knew Max would be at the fundraiser. How did he know Max, Zane, Stella, Quinn, and Mel would attend the governor’s gala? No one knew they were planning on crashing the party to expose the Blacks and Vance Huxley.
Had Max told anyone? It seems unlikely he would risk everyone’s safety.
Stella wouldn’t say anything, and Quinn? I would have to ask Stella, but who would Quinn tell? Nathalie Barton chose the wrong side when she trusted Ash instead of staying loyal to Zane. How much did she know? How much information did she pass on (and to whom?) before Ash killed her, pushing her into the Renegade, her hands bound behind her back?
Zarah and Ingrid were at the penthouse when all that went down. Could someone have tricked either of them into giving away Zane’s plans?
I throw my jacket on the floor and kick off my boots. Sleeping on the couch tonight. Baby jumps up next to me and snuggles between my legs. There’s no way I can sleep in my bed. Fuck, if Zarah tells me she never wants to see me again because she let Jerricka convince her I’m a loser who only wanted sex and money, I’ll have to move.
There are too many memories in this apartment and I can’t live here without her.