“I forgot how beautiful you are like this. The real you,” Kat says, resting a supportive hand on my shoulder and squeezing gently. She’s smiling at me from our reflection in the mirror, pride glimmering in her eyes.
I rest my hand over hers, suddenly overcome with emotion. Because she’s right. The black hair was nice. It was different—the change it needed to be—but it wasn’t me. As I stare at my reflection, the long wavy locks of blond hair tumbling over my shoulder, I feel like I’m finally finding myself. Here in the midst of chaos and heartbreak.
After we finish with my hair, we move on to whatever else is on Kat and Vera’s list for the day. When I’m prepped and primed, waxed of any unwanted hair, and my makeup is done to perfection, we head out to dinner at one of the spots we used to frequent. It doesn’t take long for the news reports to start rolling in, and I’m not surprised the Savages are at the center of it all. True to their word, Jameson and Baron managed to release those articles, and stories are coming forward about the Savages and the sins of their pasts. People wronged by them are making statements. It’s all happening. Within mere hours of giving the green light. I now understand why the lawyers warned me about making the right decision because they weren’t kidding. When they said they were going full steam ahead, they meant it.
And for some strange reason, beneath all the righteous emotions on my sister’s behalf, I feel guilty. A part of me feels guilty that I’m hurting Baz in a way. This is going to ruin his career. I’m taking away everything he’s worked so hard for. I shake those thoughts and worries away. I’m only doing what he did to me—what they did to me. They took my entire world from me, and now I’m finally firing back, taking what means the most from them.
She did it.
She really fucking did it.
People have been flocking to her side after reading her words and hearing her story. Articles have been dropping left and right, tarnishing the reputation of the guys, showing their true colors. I’ve let it happen. None of it concerned me. Those were their problems, their issues they asked for help cleaning up. It is out of my hands now.
My lip quirks at the small embellishments Mackenzie has added to the piece since I’ve last read it. No doubt some other lawyer told her to add it. Her hate for all of us is a lot stronger than I imagined, but it was obvious, even as I read the newly printed piece, she was holding back quite a bit. Even with all that damage that has been done, I know, from a business standpoint, it’s still not enough.
That fiery pit in my chest grows the more I think about our last conversation. How she so easily believed I could hurt someone. That I could kill her sister. It made me angry. At her and our predicament. Because she really knew nothing about me at all if she thought that was the truth.
It’s odd, the way she makes me feel. On one hand, I want to protect her. I want to shield her from the pain she no doubt lives with every day of her life. But another part of me wants to hurt her for what she’s done. The way she so recklessly snuck her way into my life.
None of this would turn out pretty. It’s going to end in a disaster, and I’m not going down without a fight. I didn’t have a hand in her sister’s murder, and I sure in the hell am not going to let her act of vengeance take down everything I’ve worked so hard for.
Since her journalistic piece was released a week and a half ago, I’ve put out statements on my behalf. The rest of the guys are on their own. Especially Vincent. He’s been MIA. His parents haven’t seen him, Dan can’t find him, and he’s been out of touch with the rest of the guys. Or so they say.
There is something more going on between him and Zach. He was blindsided by the news that Zach was sneaking around at the mental institution, pretending to be him. I thought Vincent would confront him, or at the very least, kick his ass, but he’s done the exact opposite. Zach has no clue I know about his visits or that Vincent did either, and I plan to keep it that way.
The more I think about it, I realize they are probably working together. That is another issue I need to take care of. I’ve already expressed my worries to Dan about Mackenzie. I need eyes on her at all times because I don’t know what lengths they will go to hurt her. No matter how upset I am with her, I don’t want her hurt. Even though I shouldn’t, I care about Mackenzie far too much to let that ever happen.
“Someone’s here to see you, Mr. Kingston,” my new assistant says, peeking her head inside my office.
“Who is it?”
“Says she’s an old friend. She doesn’t have an appointment, and I’m sorry, but I’m not sure how she got up here either.”
I lean back in my chair and nod. “Let her in.”
The second my guest steps into my office, something strange happens. Like she’s an oxygen vacuum, all the air is extracted from my lungs. My heart is pounding and my dick, fuck my dick, is stirring at the sight of Mackenzie. I haven’t seen her since my visit to the mental institution, and she was a mess, for various reasons. Her hair was like a bad wig, half blond and the other half black. Half her body was in casts, for fuck’s sake, but now? This is another woman entirely. She takes my breath away, and I don’t want to admit it, but I think she looks more beautiful this way. Knowing this is her, with no fallacies to her appearance, does strange things to me. There’s a deep pit in my stomach and a warmth filling my chest, expanding with each inhale, before spreading through my veins.
I have to actively work to keep my outward expression blank as she walks into my office, her gaze on mine, searching. I trail my eyes up and down her body, soaking her in. Her hair is a soft shade of honey and blond that tumbles around her shoulders in thick waves. Her face, now clear of any previous bruising, is just as stunning as the first night she stumbled into my restaurant, disrupting my dinner. She’s dressed in a pair of jeans with a giant hole at the knee, some sneakers, and a plain top. The ensemble isn’t anything special, but on her? She looks fucking magnificent. And the cherry on top? She’s alive.
I eat her up with my gaze, my heart squeezing when I think about the possibility of what it would’ve been like if she never made it out of the car that night.
“Sebastian,” she says by way of greeting. Her voice is strong and clear, just like the fire that’s slowly starting to build in her eyes. My lips quirk.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon, Mackenzie. Or is it Scarlett? I can’t tell. The hair is throwing me off.”
Her lips twist into a grimace as she takes the open seat opposite me. We stare at each other in silence for a beat, each of us taking the other in, getting our fill.
“I came here for the truth. And only the truth.”
I laugh, but it’s without humor. “I thought you had it all figured out. Isn’t that why you’re doing your damnedest to tear down everything I’ve built? Because you believe I’m a murderer?”
I see the guilt flash across her features, but she masks it quickly, working to pull herself together. Squaring her shoulders, she leans forward, eyes imploring.
“Cut the act. The faster we get this over with, the faster I can be done with you.”
This time I really do laugh at the hilarity of it all. “You’ll never be done with me, Mackenzie. You know that just as well as I do.”