A loud clinking thunk sounded behind him. Nathan had set out a box of liquor. “I'll get ice and a mop.”
Rachel's hair was trying to escape a ponytail and her makeup was smeared under her red-rimmed eyes. She rubbed a spot on her forehead. He scooped her up in his arms, her eyes glazed and distant. “Nathan. Call Doctor Mali—”
“No, no, no.” Rachel's panicked voice made no sense. “No. I'm fine.”
“We'll see about that.”
She lifted her eyes to him. “How long have you suspected Jay took the money? Like really known?” Her whisper ran hot over his shirt.
His heart didn't know which way to go— a smug satisfaction at her budding understanding or empathy for the pain in her voice. “I've suspected for a while.” He helped her to stand but kept his arm around her.
She clasped his forearm, her fingers curling into his shirt material. “You went to jail. Because of him.” She gazed at the spilled red wine, her lips a hard line. Her chest rose and fell.
“You get it now.” He took a sadistic pleasure in the knowledge that cracks had finally formed in her trust of Jay.
Her gaze lifted and her chin trembled. “He really did it, didn't he? Like really?” Her eyes revealed the moment her heart split open. Funny, he thought he’d hear it in her words but no, it was the way her eyes cleared, the shield dropping away to finally let the truth inside.
He nodded. “Of course, he did. Gabrielle, can you get Nathan to help clean this up?”
The girl nodded. She’d just been standing there, stunned at this odd exchange.
“Come on. Let's talk.” He led Rachel down the hall and got her into his office.
As soon as they were inside, she pushed him away, roughly. She began to pace. “I talked to Jay. He was worried I was with you. Told me to stay away while he’d been on a mini-break.” She drew quote marks in the air, and then she drew out her phone from her pocket. “I called Northstar Energy. They’ve never heard of Jacob Anthony Grant.”
“We know.” That was an easy thing to check, and she seriously hadn't done her own investigation before? His stomach churned at the thought Jay's manipulation had been greater than anticipated. She wasn't this gullible—or was she?
“Now his fricking voice mail” —she shook the phone— “is full. Whose voice mail is ever full?”
“Someone who’s been very busy.” He should tell her the whole story. Her brother had been a larger fuck-up before the trust fund debacle than she’d ever known, but that sordid account could wait for the appropriate time. “We've been looking for him. Traced his cell phone—”
“How? Oh, you pinched his number from my phone, huh? You hired me just to get info on Jay.”
“Yeah.” He was done telling her lies, even the simple little white ones. “You're going to have some bruise there.” He gently passed his fingers over her forehead.
She angrily swiped at his hand. “Well, I win the ulterior motive contest. I came here to steal money.” She pointed to the closet. “I found your safe.”
“I have never had your money, Rachel. My working theory was that you and Jay set me up, but I could never figure out why when all you had to do was wait.”
She turned to him, more tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, my God, Trick. You were in prison.” She backed up a step, fists clenched by her sides. “I’m going to kill him.”
A knock on his door broke their conversation. In the doorway, Nathan held up a baggie of ice. He wisely handed it over, turned away, and shut the door behind him.
Trick held out the ice bag to her, which she ignored.
“Trick. We have to fix this.”
We was an interesting word to use in that moment.
“Okay, let's start at the beginning.” He placed the bag of ice in her hand, but she didn’t apply it to her forehead. “Did he ask you to move to Baltimore with him?”
“Yes,” she ground out.
“So, you both moved, but he didn't stay. He left shortly afterward.” He was grasping for pieces to plug the holes, but the scenario made sense.
“For Northstar, or so he said, but he just wanted me someplace you wouldn't find me, didn't he? That mother fucking bastard of a cock-sucking bitch. He could be anywhere—”
Normally, anger from this woman was akin to walking through an inferno. Right now, God love her for it. She was finally aiming all that heat and outrage where it should have been all along, where he himself had been for three unholy years.
“He's in D.C. We found him.”
The ice bag hit the floor. Her eyes brimmed with new frustrated tears, but it wasn’t long before the flames returned. “You have a car, right?”
“No, Rachel. Let us handle this.” He reached down, grabbed the ice bag and held it to her forehead. “We have reason to believe he's using. It's not safe.”
“Drugs?” She lowered his hand holding the ice. “He’s never—”
“Come on.” At this point, he wasn’t holding any of his quite frankly deserved frustration back. “He got high every second he could. Don't you remember?”
“No, I don't. He was probably better at hiding it from me than you.” She took the ice bag and crunched its contents between her fingers.
Now it was his turn to pace before his jaw shattered. “A few million doesn't go far when it's snorted up your nose or pushed into a vein for three years.” By the way her eyes reddened further his sarcastic tone wasn't helping, but he was so tired of everyone being so naive about Jay. He went to fucking prison because of that guy. “Look …”
Her face screwed into a grimace and a sob broke from her chest. He pulled her closer and dropped on the couch, taking her with him. The ice packet thunked to the floor.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She cried into his shoulder until his shirt was soaked with tears she should never have shed.
He took the apology inside anyway.
He’d once loved her so hard it hurt to be away from her, only to be forced apart and hated. The only thing worse was living in a ten-by-ten-foot cell, every second waiting to get jumped because of some slight in the mess hall or just because everyone was so Goddamned bored.
“It never should have happened to you.” She gulped air as her body shuddered. “I'd have finished sc-school. And, oh, God,” she looked up at him, shocked. “We would have been m-married.”
He could so easily see how their life should have been—her dark hair lifting in the wind while standing on their apartment balcony, looking at the river and sipping morning coffee. Later, she’d text him at six asking where they should meet for dinner. He’d roll over in bed, find her warm body in the middle of the night.
God damn his heart that never could let go of her.
He grasped the sides of her face and kissed her hard. Salty tears mixed with the sweet taste of her lips. His hands shot under her shirt, and her lips trembled as she took shuddering breaths. His lips, tongue, and mouth reclaimed what he should have never lost. Her despair was obvious, but he couldn't feel bad because after three long years, she finally—finally—believed he was innocent. Finding their way back to each other might be impossible, but at least now they were united in a shared truth, and all her innate love and loyalty, once Jay’s, was no longer his. That fact was all he needed for today.