Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Gideon
“What the fuck are you doing?” Henry seethed the second he walked into my suite.
I snapped my head away from my laptop, where I’d been watching the security feed from the funeral home now that I was alone.
Based on what I’d been able to decipher so far, none of Brian McGuire’s employees suspected any foul play. All they knew was he hadn’t shown up for work, leaving the assistant funeral director to take charge of a viewing scheduled for this afternoon.
“What are you talking about?”
He stormed toward me. “I just ran into Imogene as I was getting off the goddamn elevator. On this fucking floor.” He threw his hands up, exasperated. “You said you ended things.”
“I did, but she apologized, and I figured I’d be a shit boyfriend if I didn’t forgive her,” I joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
But Henry was in no mood to joke this morning.
“You’re not her boyfriend!” he bellowed, his voice shaking the crystal chandelier hanging over the dining room table. “You’re lying to her. She’s already questioning things. The more time you spend with her, the more lies you tell her, the riskier it gets. If you’re going to carry on with whatever the fuck this is, she deserves to know the truth. Now . Or I’ll do it for you.”
“You wouldn’t,” I snarled.
He narrowed his venomous gaze at me. “If that’s what it takes for you to finally get your head out of your goddamn ass, I will.”
We glowered at each other for several long moments, neither one of us willing to back down just yet.
I was more than aware that last night shouldn’t have happened. That I should have kept my distance from Imogene. And I certainly shouldn’t have made plans to see her again tonight. But she was a damn drug.
Last night, she gave me exactly what I needed. Gave me back a piece of my humanity. It was selfish of me, but I wanted more of that. Needed more of that, especially with everything I had planned over the coming weeks.
But telling her the truth?
“She can not know,” I declared vehemently.
“Why? What is so bad about finally telling her the truth? After everything she’s been through, after everything you’ve put her through, don’t you think she deserves that? Don’t you think?—”
“ Because I don’t want her to know what I’ve become !” I roared as I jumped to my feet, my biggest fear spilling from me before I could stop it.
I didn’t think I’d ever tell anyone, including Henry.
But now it was out there.The real reason I couldn’t stomach the idea of revealing myself to Imogene. It wasn’t because I was worried she’d tell Liam or go to the police.
It was because I didn’t want to do anything that would taint her memories of Samuel. Telling her the truth would do exactly that.
“You didn’t hear how she talked about Samuel at the golf tournament.” I rubbed my hand over my face, slinking into the leather chair. “She still loves him.”
“ You ,” Henry responded firmly. “She still. Loves. You. Not this made up persona of Gideon Saint. But you. Samuel Tate. That’s who you really are.”
“No, Henry. I’m not. I may have the same DNA. But I haven’t been Samuel Tate since that bastard pointed a gun at me and fired. I’d rather?—”
A choked sob reverberated from the hallway, cutting me off. It was muted, but in my mind it was as jarring as hearing a gunshot on a peaceful day, shattering everything in sight.
I darted my eyes toward the door, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of my stomach about what caused that noise.
Who caused that noise.
Slowly standing, I strode the few feet toward the door, my hand hovering over the knob with hesitation and dread.
Drawing in a shaky breath, I finally opened the door, not surprised to find Imogene mere feet away.
I thought the worst thing I’d ever seen was the look on her face when she learned Samuel’s fingerprints had been found on a glass at Alton’s cabin.
That was nothing compared to this.
The pain. The heartache. The betrayal.
It broke me.
There was no doubt she’d overheard every syllable I just said.
And every syllable Henry had said, too.
I instinctively stepped toward her, unsure what else to do. What to say to make it hurt any less.
“Don’t touch me,” she demanded, recoiling from me as if I were the devil incarnate.
In a way, I was.
At least I was her devil.
“Who…” Her voice caught in her throat as she struggled to get the words out. “Who are you?”
“You’ve known all along, Imogene,” I responded calmer than I thought possible with all the emotions warring inside me. Anger. Frustration. Despair. They were all there, fighting for dominance.
“Your name,” she ordered firmly, her voice no longer trembling. “Tell. Me. Your. Name.”
“My legal name is Gideon Saint.”
“Your birth name. What was your name when you were born?”
I squeezed my eyes shut as I pushed out a resigned breath. I hated everything about this. But Henry warned me this was a strong possibility. Or, more accurately, an inevitability. I just didn’t think it would happen today. Thought I’d have a little more time. Thought I could have one more night with her.
I truly was a selfish bastard.
Finally, I shifted my gaze back toward hers. “Samuel Tate.”
The instant my given name left my mouth, every muscle in her body gave out and she collapsed against the wall.
I moved to help her, but she vehemently shook her head, holding her arm defensively in front of her.
“Why?” she gasped, her breaths coming in ragged spurts.
I opened and shut my mouth several times, trying to figure out what to tell her.
It was one thing for her to know who I was.
It was another to tell her exactly why I’d been lying to her.
Instead, I turned back toward my suite, where Henry stood in the doorway, watching us with a mixture of pity and sorrow.
“Can you make sure she gets home, okay?” I asked softly.
“I told?—”
I cut him off with a sharp gesture of my hand. “I don’t want to hear it right now. Just make sure she’s okay.”
“I don’t think she’ll ever be okay after this,” he responded under his breath.
I chanced one last glimpse at Imogene, her expression pale.
As if she’d seen a ghost.
“Then make sure she’s safe,” I pleaded, my voice catching.
He gave me a solemn nod and moved toward Imogene, wrapping an arm around her waist, supporting her as he led her toward the elevators.
Once they disappeared from view, I stormed back into my suite, clenching and unclenching my fists as I paced the length of the bedroom.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t erase the sight of Imogene’s anguished expression when I finally admitted the truth. It would remain one of my core memories until the day I died. Not the day I met my mentor. Or the day I graduated college. Or the day I learned my gaming platform had become an overnight success.
From this day forward, I would always remember the pain I caused Imogene Prescott because of my lies.
I collapsed onto the bed and buried my head in my hands, sucking in deep breath after deep breath, feeling like the world was falling apart around me. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I could no longer recognize the man staring back at me.
Not because I’d changed my appearance. It was so much more than that. I couldn’t stand looking at this face anymore. The face I was forced to wear after my old one was too beaten and damaged from years of abuse, leaving behind nothing but a shell of who I used to be.
All because the men I trusted betrayed me.
With a guttural roar, I leapt to my feet and slammed my fists into the mirror over and over again until nothing remained but my blood and hundreds of shards of glass, each one mocking me with everything that had been taken from me.