Chapter 18 Allie #2
I need to get it together. First, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Jackson dropped me off at the house. He…”
Kade’s hands grip my arms, and he squeezes. Not hard enough to hurt, but firmly. “Come on,” he urges. “You have to be convincing.”
I pull in another breath. “I was upset when Jackson dropped me off. He didn’t say anything about what he was doing after he left me here.
He only waited until I got inside, and then he left.
I took a shower, and I got into bed. I just…
” I drag my tongue over my lips to moisten them.
“I just wanted to forget everything that happened at the gala.”
“That’s right. That’s exactly what you did.”
He releases me and drags a hand through his hair. Again, I notice how clean he is. Especially for a tux. He couldn’t have done this, right? There was so much blood, it would be all over him. Wouldn’t it? I don’t understand.
He catches me staring and narrows his eyes. “What?”
“I don’t understand. I can’t remember anything. I didn’t…”
“You didn’t what?” he asks.
“I didn’t do this. I didn’t kill him.”
Kade scoffs, and it would’ve been kinder if he had slapped me.
“Allie. Come on... who else could have? You’re the only one in the house.
” I start to shake my head, unable to believe that I could do something so horrible.
Kade senses my distress and defuses it. “It’s okay, though.
You did it to save yourself, and if he did that to you, he would’ve done it to others.
Probably already has done it to someone else. ”
“But it’s not okay. You know me! I could never kill someone.” I don’t know why it’s so important that I get through to him. I only know it is. “You have to believe me! Please.”
“Like I said. I believe what I saw.” He steps away like he’s putting more distance between us, and something inside me shatters. After everything he’s done to me, this hurts the worst. I know better than to break down, though. He’ll only be colder than ever.
Instead, I keep my head as high as I can.
I won’t beg him to hold me, even though that’s what I want more than anything in the world.
For someone to hold me and comfort me and tell me everything will be all right.
To believe me. To tell me they know I’m not a killer.
But what if I did do it? I was defending myself.
It wouldn’t be seen as a crime, right? For a second, I’m gripped by panic all over again.
“Maybe I should tell the truth. I have bruises on my neck.” I touch my throat and wince even at the tiny bit of pressure. “I was defending myself. People will believe me.”
“It’s too late for that. The scene’s been cleaned up. There’s no evidence—for you or against you.” His words land with a sickening thud.
He’s right. I can’t prove anything now.
There I was, thinking he was my savior, but I think he might have put the nail in my coffin, instead. He knows it, too. That might be the worst part of all.
There’s a look of grim satisfaction on his face when he steps up to usher me to bed. Once I’m tucked into the covers, he leans in and murmurs, “Now, you owe me.”
He lies down on the bed beside me, fully clothed, shoes on, facing me.
“Is that why you did it?” I whisper as a sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.
“So that I would be indebted to you? So you could use it as leverage against me?” He waits to speak, digesting what I’ve said, playing it back in his mind, realizing how fucked up he is.
“Do you even really care?” Tears slip from my eyes and trail down my cheeks. “He was going to rape me, hurt me.”
“I know what he was going to do, Allie,” he snaps almost as if he’s angry that I’m reminding him. “But it didn’t happen, and if he had gotten that far, he would be dead anyway. I’d have put a bullet between his eyes the moment I found out.”
That gives me a glimmer of hope that maybe he cares for me as more than just a possession, but it doesn’t change what he’s done. It doesn’t stop the panic from building.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I whimper.
“Then don’t think about it. Just do what I say. Otherwise, you’re going to be headed to prison for a very long time. Understand?”
I’m too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to do anything but agree. All I can do is look up into the face of the devil and nod. “Yes.”
“Good. Now get some rest.” He tucks the blanket a little higher up to my chin and tugs me against his chest.
At this moment, I’m so grateful to be held that I let out a long sob. He doesn’t care when I get snot all over his coat. He lies beside me until I stop crying. “I can’t stay, sweetheart. I have to leave before Emma gets back.”
When he heads for the door, I start to tremble. The reality of the situation is sinking in deep. “I thought you were different from him.”
Kade stops just before the door, the glow of the hall framing his silhouette. “Than your fuckwit fiancé?”
“Not him. Roman.”
Kade turns to look at me over his shoulder, and there’s no mistaking the guilt flickering in his eyes. He fucking cares. He cares, and he doesn’t want to show it. I latch onto that even as his expression clears to the cold indifference I know so well.
I watch him walk out the door and wrap my arms a little tighter around my middle, holding all my fractured pieces together.
Even if I’m afraid, even if I owe Kade in some terrible twisted way, I’m grateful he was here.
I just wish I had it in me to ask him to stay, to remind me that everything is going to be okay, even if neither of us really believes it.