“No, we’re going to do it now. We can have the conversation right here, if you like. Makes no difference to me.”
I ground my teeth. “Dane, I’m not in the mood to—”
“She was Hugh’s favorite call girl.”
I felt my lips part. “Excuse me?”
“Even when he was in his later years, plenty of women—young and old—were eager to share his bed because he had money and power. But Hugh wasn’t interested in having a pretty ornament who’d lyingly profess to love him; he said it would be no different than him paying for sex, only he’d have to deal with the aggravation that came with a shallow relationship. So he stuck to high-end call girls, because then at least everyone knew where they stood.
“He developed a fondness for Lacey—she had a shit childhood and got into prostitution because there was nothing that she wouldn’t do to provide for her eight-year-old son. She became his regular. Before he died, he told me he’d be leaving her fifty grand in his will and one of his apartments, but that she could only have those things if she gave up her job as a call girl and went back to school, just as she dreamed of doing.
“He was sure she’d do it, and she did. He made me promise to keep an eye on her, because he didn’t trust that her pimp—who scares the everloving shit out of her—wouldn’t harass her or bully her into going back to that life. The guy liked having control over her, and he hates that he lost it. Whenever things are going to shit, he seeks out his favorite whipping girl. Lacey knows to call me if he makes an appearance.”
I narrowed my eyes, searching his face. He looked and sounded so very sincere. But then, he always did—even when lying his ass off to my family.
“Those photos of me in her living room … I was there because she called to say he’d broken into her home and smacked her around,” he went on. “I was holding her chin while I got a good look at the bruised side of her face—you can’t see it from the angle on the picture. She was lifting her tank top to show me the bruises on her ribs from where he’d kicked the shit out of her. Again, you can’t see those marks from the angle the picture was taken.
“I went to the club the next night because he owns it, and I knew he’d be there. As I’ve done many times before, I beat the shit out of him—I even wrapped my tie around his throat and choked him until he almost passed out. When I called Lacey the following day to tell her I’d dealt with him, she didn’t answer. Thinking he might have gotten to her again, I went to her house and I found that she was packing to leave.
“I snatched a sweater from her hand before she could toss it in the case; I talked her into not running. She knelt on the floor because that’s where she’d set the suitcase—something you can’t see in the picture—and she’d agreed to unpack it. If you want, I can take you to meet Lacey right now; she’ll tell you everything I just told you.”
“If it’s all so innocent, why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“Probably for the same reason you haven’t told me everything about Simon’s past and what made him develop DID: because it doesn’t affect me; it’s not something I need to know. That you haven’t told me isn’t personal, is it?”
No, it wasn’t personal. As our relationship was a sham, I saw no need to tell him things about people who didn’t affect him. And that worked both ways, didn’t it? I was okay with that. The problem here was that he’d lied to me. “The night you went to the club, you told me you were going to o-Verve.”
“And I did. Before coming home, I paid her pimp a visit.”
“You knew I’d assumed that the meetings simply ran late. You let me believe that.”
“Not out of some wish to deceive you. I’ve lived alone for a long time, Vienna. There was no one to care where I’d been or when I’d be home; no one who’d want a rundown of my movements. If you’d outright asked me why I was home late, I’d have told you because it was no big secret. But you didn’t ask, so I thought you didn’t care. I’m not a man who’ll automatically explain where he’s been—I’ve never had to.”
Okay, yeah, I could understand that. But would he have really told me the truth if I had asked questions? I just wasn’t sure. My emotions were all over the place, and I couldn’t seem to reason everything through. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
“It’s understandable that you’re not so quick to trust what I’m telling you. I lie, I scheme, I manipulate. I’m not a good person. But my word is gold—I never break it. Which was why Hugh made me vow to watch over Lacey,” he added in a put-out tone.
He tilted his head. “Why do you want out of our agreement, Vienna? You didn’t just demand answers from me, you threatened to walk. It’s the second time you’ve done it. As if your first instinct is to run from me, which tells me you want out. Why?”
Truthfully, I wanted “out” because I was swimming in emotional waters with Dane—that could only lead to me drowning, given that he could never give me what I needed even if he wanted to.
“Why, Vienna?” he pushed. “And don’t say it’s because you’re tired of Travis and Hope’s antics—you’re too strong for them to break you.” His gaze flitted over my face. “Is it because your last engagement didn’t end so well? Owen might not have cheated on you, but he did betray your trust by hurting you the way he did.”
“This has nothing to do with Owen.” But I wasn’t going to tell Dane the truth of why I wanted out, so I gave him another truth. “I’m sick of lying to the people I care about, Dane. Sick of living a lie. I didn’t anticipate just how hard this was going to be, and that’s on me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “There’s more to it than that.”
Motherfucking warlock.
“You clearly don’t feel ready to let go of your anger yet, but ask yourself honestly—do you think I lied to you about the pictures? Do you think that was one big bullshit story I just told you?”
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say that his story didn’t add up or something. But I’d have been lying, and he’d have known that. I licked my lips and took a long breath. “No.”
“But you still want to walk out, don’t you?”
I gave a slow nod.
“Why, Vienna? Tell me.”
He was such a tenacious bastard. Knowing he wasn’t going to drop it, I decided to give him an understated version of the truth. “It bothered me a lot more than I thought it would.”
“What?”
“The thought of you with another woman.”
He frowned. “You think the thought of you with another man doesn’t bother me?”
“I don’t know, Dane. I just know that this whole situation is a lot more complicated than I’d expected it would be. I’m not a runner. I face things head-on, but … Look, I don’t think I’m the best person to play the part of your wife.”
“You’re the only person who I’d want to play it. We’ve come this far. No matter what shit went on around us, we forged ahead. We have to do that again now, Vienna, because I can’t let you walk out. You knew I wouldn’t.”