by Dori Lavelle
“Where’s the limo?”
“I brought it back to your house. It’s parked outside. I would have notified you, but Mr. Tyler said I shouldn’t disturb you.”
“Really?” I get up from the bed and walk to the window, which overlooks the driveway. Sure enough, the limo is parked safely outside. So, where is Hunter? “Thank you, Tim. Sorry to disturb you this late.”
“It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Mrs. Tyler.”
The next person I call is Deacon Smith, one of Hunter’s colleagues.
He doesn’t answer and I’m not surprised. Not many people will answer a call this late. But as soon as I hang up, he calls right back.
“Who is this?” he asks.
He obviously doesn’t recognize my number. I’ve never called him before.
When we got married, I asked Hunter to give me some phone numbers I could call in case of an emergency. Deacon’s mobile was one of them, and this is an emergency.
“Deacon, it’s me, Bree Tyler. I’m so sorry to disturb you at this time.” I place a hand on my forehead, feeling uncomfortable. “I was wondering if you’re still at the event.”
“Hi, Bree. I don’t understand. What event?” He pauses. “The fundraiser?”
“Yes. It’s not still going on, is it?”
“No, I don’t think it is. I left around midnight. So did many other guests.”
“Was Hunter among those people? Did he leave?”
“Yes. He left before me actually. Must have been around eleven.”
“Oh.” I chew my lip, my pulse racing. “Okay, thanks.” I want to ask him if Hunter told him where he’s going or anything else, but I don’t want to sound like some jealous wife.
“Is everything all right?” Deacon asks. “Did Hunter not make it home?”
“No.” I blow out a breath. “I’m a little worried.”
“That’s strange. He said he was going straight home. He said you’re not feeling well and he wanted to come and care for you.”
“Well, he’s not here.” I purse my lips. “Anyway, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Bree, wait. Do you want me to call around to see if someone else knows more than I do? I can do that if it will make you less worried.”
“Thank you, Deacon. That would be nice.”
Half an hour after I hang up the phone, Deacon calls me back and tells me exactly the same thing he told me before. Most people saw Hunter leave the party.
After thanking him and hanging up, I hold the phone tight in my hand. Should I call the cops? What good would that do, though?
I know from many of my clients’ experiences that the cops will not do a damn thing unless a person has been missing for at least twenty-four hours. That leaves me with no choice but to wait with a knot in the pit of my stomach.
Chapter Five
THE FIRST THING I DO when the alarm goes off is search for Hunter. He’s still not on the bed next to me. His place is still cool and undisturbed. A fresh wave of terror sweeps through me.
He didn’t spend the night at home.
Where is my husband?
As I wrap my fingers around the sheets, every part of me screams that something terribly wrong has happened to him.
Unsure what else to do, I call Deacon again and he still doesn’t have any news that can help alleviate my panic. Even worse, he’s already at the office and Hunter is not there either.
I need to call the cops. I have no choice. Something terrible could have happened to my husband.
My stomach is clenched tight as I dial the number. As I had expected, they insist I call them after twenty-four hours have passed.
When the police officer asks if there’s a chance my husband is having an affair, I hang up on him and pour myself a strong cup of coffee.
I consider waiting home for Hunter to arrive, but I can’t because I have an important meeting with Mason, and also a hearing to attend for a new case.
On my way to the office, I receive a text message from Karen confirming our lunch appointment at Moreno’s. I don’t tell her that, instead of celebrating, I feel like crawling into bed to hide from my fears. I don’t tell her what happened with Hunter, not yet. I write back with trembling fingers.
I’ll be there. Thanks. B.
At the office, I find bouquets of flowers on my desk from people congratulating me for becoming partner, but I cannot find it in me to feel excited, even though I know I should. This is everything I have ever wanted, everything I had worked toward. Now my dream has come true and all I can think about is whether Hunter is lying in a ditch somewhere.
As worried as I am about him, wondering whether he had a car accident, the question the police officer asked me still rings in my ears and makes my stomach roll with anxiety. Would he do that to me?
At my desk, I squeeze my eyes shut to kill the thoughts that bring up feelings of betrayal inside me. My fear that he might have slept in someone else’s bed is the reason why I did not call my friends, who I would normally call in a situation like this. I’m pretty sure the first thing that would come to their minds is that he went home with another woman.
If I want to stop myself from going crazy, I can’t entertain those kinds of thoughts.
On my way to court, I pass Jacob’s office and he comes out to greet me. This time when he flirts with me, I shake him off rather coldly.
“Come on, Jacob. You have to stop flirting with me. You know I’m married.”
“I do know that. And I’m waiting patiently for it to end.” He gives me a mischievous smile. “Seriously, Bree, give me a call when it’s over.” He leans against the doorframe. “I’ve handled a few divorce cases in my career.”
“You really think that’s funny?” I run a hand up and down my forearm, the knot in the pit of my stomach tightening. “You’re seriously messed up to think my marriage will end.”
He shrugs. “A guy can dream.”
Jacob walks away from me, leaving me reeling as his words hit me hard.
If only he knew the things that are going on inside my head right now. What if my husband cheated on me and we might actually end up divorcing?
No way. Hunter will never do something like that to me, not after he woke me up at 3 A.M. to celebrate our six-month wedding anniversary.
It doesn’t make sense for someone to do such a romantic thing, then end up in someone else’s bed hours later.
There has to be some other explanation. If only he would call me or answer my calls so I can hear him out. I’m sick of listening to his voicemail.
As soon as I walk into the courtroom, I transform into someone else because I cannot afford for my personal issues to get in the way of my job.
I manage to do what’s expected of me without going crazy or bursting into tears, even if I don’t cry that easily. But I’ve been on the verge of tears since last night.
After I leave court, I go to my meeting with Mason, who explains the tasks I’ll be taking on as a partner, then I head to HR to get the papers I need to sign.
By lunchtime, I’m completely drained and even more worried that Hunter still hasn’t called me. I did everything I could to stifle my worries while I worked, but now as I sit at my desk, they all come crashing into me.
My phone beeps and I grab it, but it’s still not Hunter. It’s a message from Karen asking me if I’m on my way.
Shit. I had completely forgotten about our lunch. The last thing I want to do is meet up with them. They are my best friends. They will know instantly that something is wrong. I can’t blow them off though, not after they made time to celebrate my big win.
I get up, cover the bags under my eyes with concealer, and head to Moreno’s.
Both Karen and Vivian are already seated at a round table in the back. A bottle of champagne is chilling in the bucket situated in the center.
They each get up to pull me into a hug. As I wrap my arms around Karen, I inhale her soothing honeysuckle and vanilla perfume.
“Woman, why don’t you l
ook happier? Your dream came true,” Vivian, a redhead with a pixie cut and dark oval eyes, sinks into her chair and reaches for the bottle of champagne.
I don’t speak until I’m settled in my own seat. “Ladies, there’s something I need to tell you.” I don’t want to tell them. I don’t want anyone else to know, but they’re like family to me, and I need someone to carry my burdens with me.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Karen’s gray eyes widen and she pushes a hand into her sharp, blonde bob. “You know it’s the wrong time to do that, right?”
I laugh in spite of myself. “No, not that. Of course not.” My birth control is ironclad. I don’t plan on having any babies anytime soon.
“Then what is it?” Vivian frowns. “You look kind of pale. Are you ill?”
“Hunter didn’t come home last night,” I say before I think of a reason to change my mind. “We went to his company fundraising event, but I left early because I had a headache.” I blow out a breath. “He stayed back. When I woke up at 3 A.M., I didn’t find him in our bed.”
“Really,” Karen raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t he usually one of the first people to leave a party?”
Vivian puts the bottle of champagne back in the bucket. “What did he say when he came home in the morning?”
“He didn’t.” I purse my lips.
“What do you mean?” Karen crosses her arms. “Where the fuck is he?”
“I wish I knew. I called him several times but his phone keeps going to voicemail. I really...I don’t know what to think.” My chin hits my chest. “What if something happened to him?”
Karen touches my arm. “Honey, I know you probably don’t want to think about this, but what if he’s having an affair?”
Vivian throws her a look. “Don’t go there. He wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“You’re right, Karen, I don’t want to think about that,” I say, closing my eyes. “I don’t think he’ll do that to me.”
“Sorry, sweetie.” Karen sighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure there’s a good explanation.” Her words contradict the expression on her face. She still clearly believes that Hunter is having an affair.
“Then where is he?” I shake my head and reach for a glass of water and drain it. “I called one of his colleagues, but he said he saw Hunter leave the event. It wasn’t too long after I went home.”
“That’s strange.” Vivian frowns.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What if he took a cab home and was involved in a car accident?”
“No,” both Karen and Vivian say at the same time. They know that’s what I always think every time someone is late.
“I wish he would call to let me know if he’s fine.” I drop my head into my hands.
Lunch ends up being a worry-fest instead of a celebration. Even though I walk out of the restaurant feeling the same way as when I entered it, I’m glad I told my friends what’s going on.
Chapter Six
Hunter
I grab the half-empty bottle of gin and send it flying to the nearest wall, watching with satisfaction and fury as it explodes into a dozen pieces of broken glass.
I yank a photo from my back pocket and glare at it with burning eyes.
“I thought I could do it. I thought I could fucking do it.” I press a fist into my temple. “But she’s like the other bitches. I love her, you know. I didn’t want it to come to this.”
I’m silent for a moment, waiting for a response I know will never come. The dead don’t speak. I’ll never hear my father speak again, except inside my head.
“I can’t pretend anymore, Pa. This is who I am now. I can’t outrun myself.”
I push the photo back into my pocket and swing my legs out of bed. When I get to my feet, my head starts to spin. I grip the headboard for support.
I couldn’t go home last night, so I checked into a hotel only five minutes from our home.
The idea of watching the joy on her face and listening to her go on about her promotion made my stomach roll. I never thought she would be made partner in a firm buzzing with testosterone.
My fingers tighten around the headboard as I think about the fucking promotion that ruined everything. Things will never be the same again. Now that a line has been crossed, she has to deal with the consequences.
I push away from the bed and grab my rumpled suit jacket, then I head out the door, determined to make things right. Lying to myself is no longer an option. I have no choice but to show her the real man she married.
I walk the short distance to the house, swaying from side to side with each step. On the outside, I may look like a drunk, but I’m not. I’m a man, a real man. And I’m about to prove that to Bree.
Before I arrive at the gate, I switch on my phone. As expected, there are dozens of missed calls from Bree and several from Deacon Smith.
Why the fuck would he be calling me? Then it hits me that it’s because I didn’t go to the office. What’s his problem? I worked more than every employee at Zane Invest. I worked extra hours so I don’t go crazy waiting for my wife to come home.
I’m pretty sure she’s not even home right now. It doesn’t matter what happens in her life, her career will always come first. But that’s about to change. It’s time to make things the way they were supposed to be from the start.
When I let myself into the house, a part of me hopes I’m wrong and that I’ll find her waiting for me. She’s not, and that pisses me off even more.
I storm into the kitchen—slamming the door—and make myself a strong coffee. I use the hot liquid to wash down the painkillers I pop into my mouth. Nothing helps.
I slam the cup on the counter and go upstairs to take a shower.
The bathroom smells of her, like the rest of the house. Standing under the rain shower brings back memories of me fucking her against the steamy tiles. It pisses me off that even when we make love, she likes to be in control. I’m done pretending I like it when she takes charge in bed and in our marriage.
Before I leave the bathroom, I remove the contact lenses I’ve been wearing ever since I met Bree. My true eye color is gray-green, not brown. My mother used to say it reminded her of an evil cat. Maybe that’s what I am...evil.
Even though alcohol is still trickling through my system, after I’m dressed, I go to the bar and grab a bottle of whiskey. I take a long swig straight from the bottle. Why should I drink from a glass? No one is watching anyway. Not that I give a fuck.
Bree thinks I don’t drink anything stronger than champagne. That’s what I led her to believe. The truth is, she doesn’t really know me...not yet.
My tongue still thirsts for the hot stuff so I crash onto the couch and take another drink, liquid fire pouring down my throat.
I glance at my phone. It’s only 11 A.M. It will be a while until she comes home.
I hug the bottle to my body and lean my head back. My eyes close on their own. A nap wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Before I drift off, I turn off my phone again. I will be unreachable until she returns home. She needs to learn a lesson. How dare she not wait at home for me?
I wake up from my nap an hour later. Anger thunders through me when I find she’s still not home.
I push myself to my feet and storm to her home office in search of something to ease the pain.
The atmosphere in her office is almost identical to mine since it was decorated by a woman who thinks she can make it in a man’s world. Instead of going for feminine colors and furniture, she opted for leather, wood, and metal, dark colors and sharp edges.
I drop into her desk chair and yank open a drawer filled with neatly sorted files. One by one, I pull them out and feed them into the shredder, watching with satisfaction as they disappear into the machine.
Destroying things that are more important to her than me gives me a rush that’s more addictive than the strongest drug out there.
Chapter Seven
Bree
I drop my bag on the floor of the en
trance hall and go on the search for Hunter. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach when I call his name and get no response.
My hand is covering my mouth as I sink onto the first step of the sweeping staircase. There’s no doubt in my mind anymore that something happened to him, something terrible. He hasn’t called me because he probably can’t. If he had a car accident, his phone might be damaged.
Hot tears flood my eyes, but I blink them back before they spill out. If I cry, it would mean I’m accepting the painful truth.
I push myself back to my feet to continue the search through the house before I start calling hospitals.
Taking two steps at a time, I go to our bedroom first.
“Hunter,” I call as I turn the doorknob. I open the door, then jump back in surprise.
He’s inside the room, sitting on the bed with a smirk on his face. Something is different about him. At first sight, he looks like a stranger.
My fingers spread into a fan over my breastbone. “What the hell happened to you?”
For reasons I don’t understand, something about the way he’s watching me makes me nervous to approach him.
“What do you mean what happened to me?” His tone is cool. The smile is gone and his expression has transformed to that of anger.
“For God’s sake, Hunter. I was calling you now. Didn’t you hear me? Why didn’t you answer?” My nails dig into my palm. “And where were you? I was worried.” Through my anger, I’m finding it really hard to be excited at seeing him right now.
“I went to the office after the event.”
I narrow my eyes. “You went to the office? That’s where you spent the night?”
He frowns. “Is that a problem?”
“No, but didn’t you think it necessary to call me? You didn’t think I would be worried?”
“I didn’t think I have to tell you everywhere I’m going.” He’s eyes are so intense that, for a moment, I think they look different, as though they’re a different color.
They are a different color. He always had the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes, but the ones looking back at me right now are a weird shade of green, the kind I’ve never seen before. And looking into them sends a shiver down my spine. Why is his eye color suddenly different?