Chapter 32
Stan is in his usual spot when my driver pulls around the fountain. “Miss Lazenby,” he says as he opens the door for me. “Looks like you made it just on time—we have rain coming in. Do you have any bags?”
“On the seat,” I say, getting out and letting him lean in to retrieve it as I look up at the black sky. “I can take it.”
“Not at all. I’ll have it delivered to Mr. Harrison’s apartment.”
I smile my thanks and hurry up the path to Arlington Hall. The glass doors slide open, letting me in, and I find the lobby is quiet, all guests probably in the bar or at dinner. I pass the empty reception desk, looking into the Library Bar, my steps faltering when I see Katherine’s husband in one of the chairs by the fireplace, a beer in his hand, a smile on his face. I can’t see Katherine opposite him, but I can see her black-booted stiletto heel by Rob’s knee swinging a little where her leg’s crossed.
On a mild scowl, I take the stairs two at a time, my anticipation growing.
I can smell him.
Pushing my way through various doors, I arrive at Jude’s apartment and knock, my impatience getting the better of me. So I knock again, listening, waiting. Bursting with desperation to see him.
The door finally swings open, and there he is in all his wonderful, stunning glory. And I know in this moment, without doubt, I’m head over heels. My stomach is doing cartwheels. I move forward and put myself in his chest, getting my lips on his. I love you!
“Amelia,” he says around my mouth, holding on to me. But he doesn’t return my kiss. In fact, he feels tense.
I pull my face away from his but not my body, looking at him. All the wonderful feelings fall away. I don’t like what I see. He’s nervous.
“I thought I’d surprise you,” I say, a horrible chill tickling its way down my spine.
“Well, you’ve certainly done that.”
I retreat, putting him at arm’s length. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just ... I wasn’t expecting you. You said you’d call me back.”
This isn’t the welcome I was hoping for. “I decided to come inst—” The chink of a glass from inside his apartment stops me from finishing, and I look past him, the chill down my spine turning icy. “You’re not alone,” I say quietly.
“I ...” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
I swallow, pushing past him, marching into his apartment, my legs on autopilot.
“Amelia!” he yells, pursuing me.
The lounge is empty.
“Amelia, wait.”
I stop by the dining table, just as another sound comes from the kitchen.
“Amelia,” Jude breathes, blocking my path. He takes the tops of my arms, holding me in place, hunkering down to see me. “Before you—”
I wrench myself out of his grip and storm past him.
“Amelia,” he shouts, sounding panicked as he follows me. “Listen to me.”
I screech to a stop on the threshold of the kitchen when I find a woman at the oak island, a wineglass at her lips.
“Katherine,” I breathe, as she turns on her stool, crossing one leg over the other.
“Fuck.” Jude meets my back, taking my elbow. I shrug him off, noting Katherine’s shoes. Red stilettos.
“I thought ...” My head spins. “I thought you were in the bar with Rob.”
“Oh,” she says, her voice sickeningly low. Smug. Her red lips stretch wide. “Is he having drinks with his plaything?”
Plaything.
“Oh my God.” I step back, meeting Jude’s chest.
“Amelia, I—”
“Do not tell me to listen to you,” I warn, the pain in my chest unbearable, but my anger is keeping me from folding to the floor in despair.
“Please, listen to me,” Jude pleads, trying to turn me to face him.
“I said don’t!” I push him away. I don’t want him anywhere near me. The island is set for two to eat. Two plates half-eaten. Two wineglasses. There’s a pan on the stove, some spices in jars by a chopping board. He’s cooked for her? My eyes find Katherine. “Are you still sleeping with him?” I ask.
“Amelia.” Jude appears in front of me again, bending to get my eyes.
I look at him with a cool, fixed expression. “I’m not talking to you,” I say, equally as cool as I move aside, getting Katherine back in my sights. “Are you still sleeping with him?”
She slowly places her glass down and looks at Jude next to me. And for the first time, I ask myself why he hasn’t refuted it, whether I asked him or not. “Well?”
“No,” Jude answers. It’s too little too late.
“No?” I ask. “Then what’s this?” I motion to the island, where they’ve been enjoying dinner.
“Tell her, Jude.” Katherine sounds almost bored, sipping her wine casually.
“Tell me what?”
Jude’s jaw pulses as he fires Katherine a death glare. “Shut up, Katherine.”
“Tell me what?” I yell, feeling my control slipping.
“You were a bet, sweetheart,” she coos.
“Katherine!”
“We saw you out with friends. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Jude curses, physically lifting me from my feet to get me away from the poisonous tongue of his lover. His lover. His married lover, whose husband is downstairs playing footsie with his plaything. What the hell kind of nightmare am I in? My brain spasms, and what she’s just said drops in my brain like a bomb. They saw me out with friends.
Jude puts me down, and I look up at him, scared to ask. “You paid our bill,” I whisper, remembering the waiter telling us. “It was you and her?”
His eyes close, his head dropping back, and my heart cracks that little bit more. “You have to let me explain.”
“Was I a bet?” I scream, sending myself back a few paces with the force, the anger making way for devastation. “Tell me the truth for once in your fucking life!”
He swallows, and maddening anguish contorts his face. “You were a bet,” he says quietly. Reluctantly.
My heart splits straight down the centre as I instinctively move away from him. He looks beaten. Broken. He has no fucking idea. “Why?” I breathe.
“Because he loves the thrill.” Katherine laughs. It’s like nails down a chalkboard. “The chase, the win, the buildup before he finally gives the woman what she’s begging for and then walks away from her.”
Jude flies around, savage. “Shut the fuck up, Katherine,” he hisses. “You’re fucking poison.”
“But great in bed, clearly,” she retorts, raising her glass.
I notice a smudge on Jude’s jawline. Red. It matches Katherine’s lipstick. I reach for it, and he flinches when I touch him, looking at me. “No,” he says, his eyes panicked.
“I’m so done.” I turn and walk out, trembling with the restraint I’m calling on not to fall apart. Cry. Scream. Hit myself for being so fucking stupid.
“Amelia!” Jude shouts, the pounding of his feet on the floor causing vibrations to travel up my legs. “Amelia, please, don’t leave.” I carry on, wobbly on my heels. “Let’s talk.”
“I have nothing to say.” I wrench open door after door, stalking through the corridors of Arlington Hall, Jude one step behind as he chases me.
“You’ve got to let me explain,” he pleads.
I take the stairs, holding the handle, very aware that he’s not physically stopping me from leaving. Because he knows he can’t.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and look into the Library Bar as I pass. I can see Rob’s plaything now. She’s blonde. Younger. The sick fucks.
Anouska walks in from outside, her face falling when she sees me doggedly marching toward her, a stressed Jude in pursuit.
“Did you know?” I ask her as I pass. Her face tells me everything. It’s all been a fucking lie.
I make it outside, finding the skies have opened, the rain coming down in sheets. I keep walking, enduring the pellets hitting me.
“Amelia, I’m begging you, hear me out,” Jude yells over the pounding rain, landing in front of me. I walk round him, my eyes set forward, refusing to look at him. “I was going to tell you.”
Every word he speaks shoves the knife into my heart that little bit more.
“I didn’t expect to like you so much.”
Like?
“It was a stupid bet that escalated.”
Keep walking. Close your ears.
“Come on, Amelia, where the hell are you going? It’s dark.”
Just keep walking. Get away.
“For fuck’s sake, Amelia, stop.”
I do, but not because he’s told me to. I swing around, raindrops flying off me with the force, and find Jude equally as soaked, his white shirt sticking to his chest.
“I came here to tell you I’d ...” I snap my mouth closed and try to think straight.
“What?”
Don’t tell him! “That I was falling for you!” I scream, letting loose, releasing my emotions. Jude retreats, his face dropping. My tears come, mixing with the rain pouring down my face. “Was that part of your fucked-up game?”
He says nothing, a pathetic excuse of a man standing before me, mute.
“Don’t ever come near me again,” I say over an infuriating sob, backing up, making sure he doesn’t come after me. “I fucking hate you.”
I turn and walk, my tears pouring as hard as the rain, the pain in my chest unbearable. My sobs are racking my body. I can’t breathe properly. Everything hurts. I look to the heavens and yell my anger as I walk on, feeling deranged, like I want to smash things apart, destroy everything in my path.
“Why?” I yell, reaching for my hair and pulling, punishing myself for being so fucking dumb.
I make it to the gates, soaked to the bone, holding my phone to the air to try and catch some service. I can hardly see through my tears, my screen slippery and wet. “Please,” I whisper, walking up and down. Nothing. “Shit.” I stumble down the road on the verge, praying for that one magical bar to give me the power to get the hell out of here. A sharp pain flares on my leg, and I look down to see a scratch from a nearby thornbush. I ignore the trickle of blood mixing with the rain soaking my leg, concentrating on finding some service. The verge becomes more overgrown, the weeds and brambles reaching my knees, my heels sinking into the soft ground. “Fuck.” I lose a shoe and turn to retrieve it, searching the mess of branches and leaves in the darkness. Impossible. “God damn it.” I abandon my lost heel, my need to get out of here more important. I remove the other, throwing it into a bush in a temper before trudging up the country road on bare feet, eventually finding the service I need.
I call an Uber, sobbing at my screen when I see it’s going to be two hours. “No,” I whisper, dropping to my arse on the verge, crying.
I cry so hard.
But he will never hear me. No one will hear me.
Because the pounding rain drowns me out.