Chapter Seventeen
Zoe
I sink into my couch, feeling the soft cushions hug my tired body. Even though I love my job, I can admit today was a long day. Maybe it's something in the water, but all the animals seem riled up and now I'm grateful to just be at home relaxing.
With a groan, I wiggle and settle into place. Just as I get comfortable, there's a knock at the door and I blink, feeling annoyed, and mentally prepare to stand up again on my aching feet.
Grumbling to myself, I make my way to the front door and pull it open.
On the other side of the door, I see Ryan, hand on the back of his neck, scanning the street. In his other hand, he's holding a manila envelope. I only know what he looks like because Amy had shown us all pictures of him the night we all learned about her super-secret boyfriend.
“Hi, Ryan,” I say.
“I can't stay, but this might be helpful,” he says, pitching the envelope into my hand before making his way down the path to his car, whistling cheerfully every step of the way.
“Thank you,” I say into the empty space between us. But he doesn't acknowledge me as he gets into his idling car and drives off. I'm not bothered by his actions. I highly doubt he wants anyone to know he stopped by. And I think I know why he wants it to be a secret.
I step back into my house and close the door, locking the deadbolt behind me. With light feet and quick steps, I hurry back to the couch and sit down, opening the manila envelope. Inside, I find a copy of the police report of Damien’s dad’s death.
I pull out the papers and scan them quickly, noting that they look like official documents with photos, diagrams, and statements. But as I read them more closely, I notice something odd. Ryan wasn't kidding when he said there were multiple conflicting statements regarding what they found.
My heart thunders in my chest as I think about all of this information.
Picking up my phone off the side table next to my couch, I quickly dial Damien's number.
He answers on the second ring.
“Hi, Zoe.” He sounds happy to hear from me, and I feel bad that this might potentially ruin his day.
“Damien, I have something.” I don't know how to tell him, and I stumble over my words, but he sounds patient on the other end of the line.
“I'm not sure what you mean, but I'm here.”
“I mean, I have the police report regarding your father’s death and all the evidence they have on file.” I hold my breath, then let it out slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. This is huge and it might change everything.
“You what ?” He sounds stunned, like he can't believe what I just said.
“I think you need to get your private investigator on the phone.” As soon as I say the words, I hear him fumbling around on the other end of the line. A moment later, I can hear a ringing phone and know he’s called the PI.
“Hello, Damien,” he says.
“Hi, Connor. You’re on the line with me and my girlfriend Zoe,” Damien says.
I can't help but enjoy the flood of warmth that fills me as he calls me his girlfriend.
“Pleasure to meet you, Zoe,” Connor says.
“Likewise,” I say, impatient with the pleasantries and ready to jump into the thick of things. “I received the official police report from Damien's dad's death.”
There is silence on the other end of the line and I wonder if they both hung up on me.
“Well, I could ask how you got that information, but I'm not sure I want to know,” Connor says.
“I couldn't tell you, anyway.” I said that I would protect Ryan in this, and I absolutely have every intention of keeping my word. “What I can do is send you pictures of everything right now over the phone.” I set the phone to speaker as Connor replies.
“That would be great.”
Pulling everything out of the manila envelope, I line it all up nice and neat and take pictures, sending them all to both numbers on the call. Part of me wonders if I should send such sensitive things to Damien and how he'll be holding up, but I have no doubt that he is strong enough to withstand what he's about to see. I don't think it's my call to hide things from him.
“Careful, Damien, some of this might be a little sensitive,” I say, wanting to protect him and give him the option to not look should he so choose.
“Thank you for the warning,” he says.
I can hear the echoing quality of all of our voices and know that we've all put each other on speakerphone. Which tells me everyone right now is looking at the photos that I'm sending.
“This is incredible,” Connor says quietly, as if to himself. “This is exactly what I needed. This changes everything.”
My heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?” I'm a little bit worried about how quiet Damien is being on the other end of the line, but I'm also excited.
“I mean, I just realized something, something that connects all the dots and explains everything,” Connor says, his tone surprised.
“What is it? What did you realize?” Damien asks.
“I can't tell you right now. Not over the phone. I need to verify some information first and I will call you back, I swear.” With that, Connor disconnects the call and it’s just Damien and me on the line.
“How are you doing over there?” I ask, hoping this didn’t traumatize him all over again.
“I'm okay. Feeling grateful.” Even though he says the words, I can hear the undercurrent of pain in his voice, and I feel absolutely terrible. I knew this information would hurt him, but I'm glad that he might finally be able to have some sense of closure and peace regarding the loss of his father. And now, with the end in sight, I sense he's going to feel relief sooner rather than later.
“What do you think he found?” I ask. I have no doubt Damien knows a lot more about all of this than I do.
“I don't know, but judging by the tone of his voice, whatever it is, it’s important.” I can hear the hope in his voice and know that he is ready for all of this to be over and done. I'm ready to get justice for his dad.
“Thank you, Zoe. For doing this for me. For my dad.” His voice sounds choked up, and I want nothing more than to reach through the phone and give him a hug. “I don't know how to repay you for this.”
“Repay me? You don't owe me anything.” Doesn't he see that I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do? Not because I expect anything in return.
“I'm just trying to say that you are an absolutely amazing person inside and out. Thank you.”
Unexpected tears sting my eyes. “Thank you for saying that, but I'm just doing what's right.”
We say our quiet goodbyes and I feel an undercurrent of something stronger between us now. Something that I'm not sure I'm ready to face.
Several hours later, I get ready for bed, still basking in the glow of the good deed that I did when I hear a knock at my front door. I can't help but wonder if it's Ryan with more information for me or one of my friends checking in.
But when I hurry to the door and peek through the people, I see Felicity standing outside.
My brow furrows as I try to figure out why she of all people would be here at my home. Feeling incredibly unsure, I pull the door open. I’m struck, once again, by how pretty she is. I've been absolutely nervous to find out that she worked for Damien because she's absolutely, stunningly gorgeous. She looks like a mashup of every girl who's ever been prettier than me before and gotten the man I was pining after or wanted to be with.
It had taken a lot for me to talk myself down from that fear, but here I am ramping back up to one hundred and terrified of what she's here to tell me. It's as if all of my past insecurities are coming back with a vengeance, but I try to keep my cool.
“What’s up? Is everything okay with Damien?” I honestly can't figure out why else she would be here and very real fear surges in my chest.
She flashes a smug smile that bothers me. “He's fine. Better than fine, actually. And I'm here to give you some news. Bad news.”
I brace myself, worried about what's going to come out of her mouth next.
“So I know you and Damien are together, but I highly doubt you gave him permission to sleep with other women.” As she says the words, my heart plummets to my toes, and pain crashes over me like a tidal wave. “He’s cheating on you.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I mean that Damien is cheating on you. He is still active at Club Red. He's there right now with some other woman.” She rolls her eyes as if she can't believe how stupidly naive I am.
And I think back to that club he told me about. Didn't he say that he wasn't part of that place anymore? Part of me wonders why he'd lied to me about that, but another part of me knows the truth. He wouldn't come out and tell me he was sleeping with other women. Of course, he’d hide it and lie.
Felicity is watching me closely, a smile on your lips. “I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” she says. But I have a feeling she's happy to be telling me this.
“I think you should go,” I say.
“Fine.” With that, she turns around and walks toward her shiny BMW.
I close and lock my front door behind me and hurry to grab my phone. Picking up the device, I call his number, but he doesn't answer. After four rings, it goes to voicemail, and I hear Damien's voice telling me to leave a message.
I hang up and call again.
And again, it goes to voicemail. He's not answering. Panic surges through my chest and I run into my room, hurrying to get dressed. Ten minutes later I'm on my way out the door, locking it behind me and getting in my car.
I've heard enough about the club in passing to know what location to search for to get directions. And I drive all the way there like a woman possessed, barely aware of my surroundings, the world, or anything but my pain and fear as I drive.
He wouldn't do this to me.
He knows how broken up I am about Jake’s cheating.
But then again, we aren't anything official, so is it really cheating?
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and I feel an ache in my arms, shoulders, and neck. I want nothing more than to find him and hear him tell me that Felicity is lying. But if I find him at this club, I'm going to have to believe her.
Tears sting my eyes as I pull into the parking lot and park my car.
Getting out, I grab my driver's license and shove it into my pocket, forgoing my purse this time. Trying to look casual while hurrying, I make my way to the front door, where a gigantic bouncer eyes me up and down.
“Are you a member?”
Crap, I didn't expect this. “No, I'm here for Mr. Black.”
He pulls out his phone for a moment, but I can't see what he's doing on the screen. Then a moment later, he nods at me. “Go right in. Arson will be out soon.”
I have no idea who he's talking about. Maybe it's Damien's nickname at this club, but I'm not about to show my confusion. Instead, I smile, nod, and make my way inside.
I'm ready to confront Damien and ask him why he did this to me. Inside, I'm confronted by loud music, flashing lights, and people dancing.
...and more than dancing.
I can feel my heart racing, my palms sweating. The music seems to be getting louder, the lights brighter. I look around and see people engaging in all sorts of activities, some of them quite intimate.
I realize that this is not just a party, it's a full-blown orgy. I feel a mix of curiosity and disgust, but I can't let myself be distracted from my goal - finding Damien.
I ignore the moans of pleasure, the sexual positions, the men and women eyeing me with hunger in their eyes as I stroll through a red room and through a door.
A man walks up to me. “I'm Arson. I heard you were here to see me? I apologize, but I don't recognize you.”
“I'm here for Mr. Black.” I'm afraid they'll throw me out if I say that I'm here for Damien.
“Well, that’s either me or him.” Arson points behind me. “But I'd much rather it be me.”
I turn around and catch sight of the person he's pointing at and my jaw drops.
He’s not pointing at Damien.
He’s pointing at Cameron.
And Cameron is making his way to my side with an unsettling grin on his face.
I want to escape.
But I also want answers.
“Hello, Zoe,” Cameron says.
“Where’s Damien?” I ask.
“It’s just you and me here, baby. Let me show you around,” he says, taking my hand and leading me into the next room.
The green light nearly blinds me, but I can hear and smell the room and know what’s happening - people being intimate, loud, and incredibly rough from the sound of things.
“Welcome to the green room where anything goes. Anything ,” Cameron says.