Dropping the hardback, I hauled out the box and threw it open. Digging to the very bottom, I found the letter I’d kept, even though I should’ve thrown it away years ago.
Masochist that I was, I couldn’t let it go.
Fingers shaking, I grabbed the paper and unfolded it flat as I opened Brent 29 and held the letter against the inscription and autograph on the book.
“A love that consumes, consumes everything unto utter desolation.” Griffin Stone.
Jamie had appeared outside the store before I could pay much attention to the handwriting.
Now I could see it.
“Oh my God.” I sank back on my heels.
The handwriting matched.
Jamie was the mystery author. Griffin Stone.
Of course, he was. Perhaps, deep down inside, I’d even hoped he was.
“When I’m done with you, there won’t be anything left.”
He still blamed me. Still hated me. Still saw a faithless girl instead of the girl he’d loved.
He wanted to hurt me.
Tears of outrage spilled down my cheeks, sobs escaping me to release the pain. Skye had been right all along. She worried that our love was too much and that when it ended, it would destroy us.
I laughed bitterly. It had almost destroyed me.
And now he wanted to take away what I’d salvaged from the ruins.
Rage burned through my grief.
If he planned to punish me for my supposed crimes, let him try. I would not take his shit lying down.
If he was no longer Jamie McKenna, I was no longer Jane Doe.
I was Margot Higgins, and he was Griffin Stone.
Enemies.
Here lies Jamie and Jane, I thought. Once upon a time, they adored each other to distraction.
RIP, sweet lovers.
Chapter 19
JANE
* * *
As I dotted a little white against the tip of a petal, I heard a soft curse from my left. It reminded me I’d been too close to my painting for a while now. It was time to look at it from a new point of view.
Putting the paintbrush down, I cracked my neck and arched my back, groaning at how stiff they both were. “What are you cursing at?” I said through a yawn as I slipped off the stool.
I flicked a look at Asher before striding away from the painting.
He stretched out on my bed, glowering at the phone in his hand. When he glanced up from it, his dark eyes glittered with irritation. “My parents’ divorce has found its way onto the gossip rags.”
I winced. Guilt pricked me. As much as it delighted me that Rita Steadman had decided to divorce Foster Steadman, I felt bad for Asher. Not that he wasn’t happy to see his mom break away from his father, but he was concerned about Rita.
They’d only just told him last night. How the hell was it online already?
“Mom doesn’t need this shit.” He shook his head in frustration. “Those bastards don’t care, as long as people hit their clickbait or buy their fucking magazines.”
“She’ll be okay. I promise. She’ll be better than okay. And hey, at least she’s no longer in the dark about Foster. To some extent.”
“I’m not sure I’m happy about that.”
I knew it was hard for Asher. He’d spent most of his teenage and young adult years protecting his mother from the truth about her husband. Someone had decided enough was enough, however. And I had a feeling I knew who that person was—hence my guilt.
Someone had anonymously sent Rita footage and images of Foster screwing young, pretty things at a swanky LA brothel. She wanted a divorce, and Foster wasn’t going to contest it because he didn’t want anyone to find out about the brothel visits.
“I have to find out who sent those tapes before my father does.”
I glanced guiltily away.
Jamie.
He was back for revenge. That’s what my gut told me.
“I can’t have this person out there doing whatever they like. They could destroy my mom.”
It wasn’t even on the tip of my tongue to tell Asher my suspicions, which made me the worst best friend in the world. Why was I still protecting Jamie McKenna? Or was I protecting myself? If I’d told Asher sooner about Jamie, he could’ve prepared for something like this.
Jamie had reemerged in my life a week ago, and I still hadn’t told Asher about it. Despite Jamie’s threat, I didn’t want Foster Steadman to discover what Jamie was up to.
“Things will be okay,” I promised as I squinted at my painting.
“Yeah, I guess I should just concentrate on being happy that he’ll be out of her life soon.” He paused. “You happy with it?”
Looking at him in confusion, I found him staring at the painting. Realizing what he meant, I nodded. Yeah, I was satisfied with the second layer. “Time to put the resin on. Which means I need to put the varnish on first. I know how you love the smell.”
“Is that your subtle way of telling me to leave?” He sat up on the bed.
“Like I would.” I pretended to be affronted by the idea.
Instead of playing along, Asher narrowed his eyes. “You know I know there’s something going on with you, right?”
Asher, I should say, Jamie’s back and he hates me. He hates me because he blames me for everything that happened. And he hates me because of you.
Despite what Jamie thought, and what the world thought, Asher was just my best friend. We became friends over three years ago. By accident. I’d gotten an invitation to a party at Foster Steadman’s home. I had no strategy, but I’d naively hoped some great master plan would come to me when I got within touching distance of the bastard.
Instead, upon seeing Foster, I was sick to my stomach. Skye’s voice, her words, filled my head, and tears had swum in my eyes. Until that moment, I had never considered myself to be a violent person, but I’d wanted to claw Foster Steadman’s face off.
I’d followed him as he left the main area of the party and watched him and his son disappear into a private room. Eavesdropping, I’d overheard Foster verbally ripping Asher to shreds. No parent should ever say what he said to his son that night. While they argued, I found my way to Steadman’s office and ransacked it.
It was Asher who caught me. He was furious to find me there.
Frightened he would call the police, I’d taken a risk, thinking about what I’d heard between him and his dad. I’d told him the truth. I’d told him everything.
To both of our surprise, we formed a connection.
And it turned out he already knew about his father. He’d witnessed the cover-ups.
Asher wanted to bring his father to justice, even if it meant damaging his family’s reputation. He was a good man. Together, we’d tried to bring Foster down, but we couldn’t find any solid evidence to do so. We’d descended into minor sabotage, which left us both feeling hollow, just half-hearted attempts because Asher couldn’t be pushed, and I, despite what I wanted, didn’t want to push my friend.
We ruined a relationship between Foster and his favorite mistress by sending her photographs of Foster visiting the same well-known, high-end brothel depicted in the photos Rita received. We also leaked a script that he’d wanted to buy to his competitor, who then outbid him. And Asher played a game of telephone to recommend a crappy investment that lost Foster a million dollars.
I knew Asher was finally ready to drop the ax on his father, but all the seedier stuff amounted to rumors at this point. As Asher had explained to me many times, none of the girls were willing to talk. Foster had paid them off, and they were afraid of jeopardizing their careers. That’s what they said. But I knew they were also afraid no one would believe them. I knew because that’s how she felt.
Tears burned in my eyes.
“I’m worried about you,” Asher said. “I know there’s something else going on.”
I should just tell Asher about Jamie. To let go of all the pain his faithlessness had caused. It was eating at me. A festering wound. A scre
am I couldn’t let go. Because if I did, if I told Asher, he would tell me to tell Jamie the truth. He’d give up his secret for me.
Asher would tell me it was unhealthy to hold a grudge against Jamie. To deliberately withhold the truth. To be at war with him when I didn’t have to be. To keep causing him pain in return for the hurt he’d inflicted when he broke up with me.
I didn’t want that from Asher.
I was already constantly arguing with my conscience.
But the hurt Jamie had caused was too great.
“I’m worried about you, that’s all.” I avoided his question with a truth.
“I’ll be fine. If this person wasn’t out there knowing shit about my family he or she shouldn’t know, I’d be dancing a jig right now that my mother is leaving my father.” He sighed and stood up. “I’m going to let you get on with the varnishing.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
We strolled through the apartment, making plans to meet up after work tomorrow. I hated the worry darkening my friend’s expression.
He turned to me before I opened the door. “I don’t care anymore about what he thinks. What the world thinks. Now that Mom is out from under his influence, I think—no, I know—things will be okay between me and her. And that’s all that matters.”
Surprised by the random turn of conversation, I raised a questioning eyebrow.
“What I’m trying to say is, we don’t have to make people think we’re dating anymore. It’s unnecessary. And maybe you could start actually dating.”
The thought of no longer hiding behind Asher as an excuse was scary. I didn’t want to admit that to him, though. Not knowing what to say, I was dazed as Asher opened my front door. Realizing he was just trying to be a good friend, even as all this craziness was happening to him, affection filled me. I pulled him back for a hug.
Asher’s arms tightened around me.
“What would I do without you, huh?”
“You’ll never have to know,” I promised him.
As we pulled back, he brushed his thumb over my cheek.
“Show me the dimple,” he demanded.
I grinned as his thumb caressed the hollow in my cheek, but the sound of a woman’s giggle drew my attention from Asher.
We both turned toward the sound coming from the apartment across the hall.
Oh my God.
Pressed against the doorjamb of the open apartment door was a tall blond. A very familiar, gorgeous guy crushed his body against hers as he kissed her.
There was a moment where I forgot the last seven years had happened.
And all I saw was the man I loved kissing another woman.
No … devouring her.
Jealousy, outrage, and pain were my foremost emotions. They made my skin hot, my chest ache, and my throat painfully thick.
But then Jamie released the woman. Despite the passionate kiss, his expression was blank, unaffected. “Thanks, gorgeous. We’re done here. Leave.”
With crashing reality, I remembered this wasn’t Jamie from my past. This was Griffin Stone. My Jamie would never talk to a woman like that.
And what the hell was he doing in the apartment across from mine?
The blond was breathing fast and shallow. She scowled, confused. “Your mood swings are giving me a migraine.”
“Then go see a doctor.”
“Asshole.” She huffed and pushed off the jamb. She faltered when she saw Asher and me, a red stain flushing her cheeks, before she disappeared downstairs. The sound of her heels clattering against the concrete steps echoed up to us. I gazed incredulously at Jamie.
He stared back.
“Uh. Hey,” Asher said, breaking the strained tension. He strode toward Jamie, pulling me along with him. Holding out his hand, he said, “Are you new to the building?”
To my shock, Jamie shook his hand. “I am. I’m Griffin. Are you my neighbors?”
“Ja—Margot is.” Asher faltered on my name and gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m her friend, Asher.”
“Asher, good to meet you.” Jamie held out his hand to me. “Margot.”
There was a smug understanding in his eyes as he looked at me. He knew I hadn’t told Asher about him. Realizing Asher would figure out something was going on if I didn’t shake Jamie’s hand, I hesitated before letting him touch me.
A shiver skated down my spine as his warm, strong fingers enveloped mine.
Memories washed over me as we held each other’s gazes.
Kisses and hugs and soft laughter in the dark.
Jamie’s grip tightened ever so slightly before he dropped my hand like a hot potato. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too,” I muttered. I turned to Asher. “I’ll see you later.” I caressed his arm in affection and then tried to walk calmly back to my apartment. Thankfully, I could hear Asher and Jamie saying goodbye before I closed myself back in my apartment.
What the hell was he doing here?
Was this part of a sick plan to torment me?
Limbs trembling, I moved distractedly back into my bedroom and heard my phone beep. Grabbing it off my dresser, I saw it was a text from Asher.
Holy hot chemistry. He forgot that blond as soon as he saw you. xx
The blond. I practically hissed.
That fucker. How many women had he had since he got out of prison?
I couldn’t bear to let anyone that close to me again, and he’d gone back to his old ways. Except worse. My Jamie, even before we dated, didn’t treat women like they were disposable.
I texted Asher back. He forgot that blond while he was still kissing her. Yuck. No thanks. xx
I stared dully at my painting. My creative mood had left the building, under the weight of the many questions going around and around in my head. Adrenaline made it hard for me to sit still. Cursing Jamie under my breath, I grabbed my laundry basket and headed toward the front door. Peering through the peephole, I double-checked his door was shut before I left my apartment. Glowering at his door as I passed, I hurried downstairs. How the hell had he maneuvered himself into my building? And why?
What was he planning?
And did he really think I was just going to sit around and wait to see what he’d come up with?
To my gratitude, the laundry room was empty as I crashed around inside it. I hauled out my stash of detergent and softener from my allocated locker and started separating my whites. That rat bastard. My heart raced, sweat gathered under my arms, and it agitated me. An encounter with Jamie was the equivalent of fifteen shots of caffeine.
And I hated that he knew I was lying to Asher. Something he could easily hold over my head.
“You are a very angry laundry doer.”
Jamie’s deep, rich voice startled me. Trying to control my breathing, I glared over at him standing in the doorway. Arms and ankles crossed as he leaned casually against the jamb. He wore a T-shirt and jeans. Nothing had changed there.
He was still the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
God, I hate him.
“What the hell are you doing in this building?” I turned my back on him, marching over to the stacked washers and dryers.
“I had no idea you lived here,” he lied, his voice growing closer as he crossed the room toward me.
Attempting not to react physically, to not hunch my shoulders in tension, I stared unseeing at the machines. What was I in the middle of doing again?
“What a surprise to find out you’re my neighbor.”
I snorted in disbelief and turned around, shocked to find him already in my personal space. “Liar.” I dragged my gaze insolently down his body and back up. “Move away. And I mean that in more ways than one.”
“Oh, does my presence bother you?” His wicked smile caused somersaults in my belly.
“What are you doing here?” I ignored his proximity. Okay, I tried to ignore his proximity.
In answer, he stepped into me and I stumbled against the machines at my back. Jamie pressed the palms of his
hands on the dryer, caging me in. My breath caught and held as his scent flooded me. That dark, earthy scent was enticing, and my body betrayed my emotions.
Feeling panic rise, I pushed at his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “Jamie?”
Those ocean eyes wandered over my face, cold, calculating. “He doesn’t know who I am. You haven’t told him.”
I lowered my hands. Touching him was even more discombobulating. “No.”
He bent his head toward mine until our noses almost touched. I sucked in a breath. “I wonder why you’re keeping it from him?”
Determined not to let him see how much he affected me, I glared up at him. He’d only have to touch me, hold my hand, to realize I was trembling. His face was so familiar. His lips were lips I’d thought I’d kiss for the rest of my life. Why did the pain of it never dull? Why did it still feel like a shard of glass through my chest? “Did you leak those tapes of Foster Steadman to Asher’s mom?”
Something menacing flashed in his eyes before he banked it. “And if I did?”
“Are you being smart, Jamie?”
“Are you asking out of concern for me or for your billionaire boy toy?”
“Jamie.”
“Never mind. I don’t care.” The bastard dipped his nose to my throat, and I tensed against the stacked machines. He inhaled, his nose brushing my skin, and my fingers bit into the washer behind me. “You smell different,” he whispered, lifting his head to my ear. “Expensive perfume. You’ve come up in the world.”
I felt his breath caress my skin seconds before his teeth touched my earlobe. Gasping, I instinctively pushed my palms against his stomach as he bit down hard, causing a flush of heat between my legs.
With a dark chuckle, Jamie released my ear after one last nibble and whispered, “Is he the jealous type, Jane? Would it bother him to see you with me, knowing I’m the first man who ever slid his dick into you?”
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