The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

by Liv Bennett

  I want to believe him, I truly do. But I remember the strange closeness between Lynn and him that night at the car and the possessive way she asked Adam whether he was in the video. And the night she stayed here was right after Adam had said he was leaving the company. Maybe he was indeed certain about leaving but changed his mind after my suicide attempt. The realization that he really might have gone, had it not been for my suicide attempt, triggers a strong wave of nausea in my stomach.

  “I don’t know what to think,” I say, suddenly uncomfortable with his touch.

  “Please, believe me. You’re the only one for me; you’ve always been, for a very long time.”

  I avert my gaze from his face for fear of looking at his eyes and finding no love in there. Maybe he loved me at some point but just got tired after several refusals. Or, he’s truly a playboy and sleeps around with any woman in his way, as the tabloids were presenting.

  Will I ever know the truth?

  He pulls my arms around his neck and tilts my chin up to meet his gaze. “I didn’t sleep with her or any other women. Please, believe me. We’ll talk about it when I come back. Don’t do anything stupid. Okay? Promise me I’ll find you here, just like this, when I come back.”

  “I won’t try to kill myself if that’s what you’re implying,” I shout and free myself from him, but I can’t stop wondering whether he has been fully honest with me.

  I don’t want to dig deeper into it, but my mind seems to be pondering several hypotheses, all revolving around the possibility of Adam being a murderer. The two attackers in the parking lot of my apartment building were killed the night after Adam had been released from the hospital. He could have easily gone out of his condo in the night without Adriana noticing his absence. And obviously, he could use Adriana as his alibi.

  And, Case, the guy who blackmailed me, was killed the night of my suicide attempt. Maybe Adam didn’t sleep with Lynn but invited her over to his place to have an alibi to cover up his plan to murder Case. After all, he knew where he lived. A violent shiver goes through me at the thought of having shared a bed with a murderer, no matter what his ultimate motives were. Maybe everything he said about his love for me is true. Maybe he is, indeed, deeply in love with me to the point of obsession. Trying to protect me from danger, no matter what.

  And, maybe he’s done something else, something inconceivably horrendous. Even for him.

  He stares at me, as if begging me to spill what is going through my mind. “Okay. I’ll call Bree and tell her to come here as soon as she can. You’ll wait here for her, okay?”

  I take a step back, putting distance between us while examining his face to get a clue of his soul. Was he capable of doing that? If he loved me so much that he couldn’t touch any other woman… A passionate man like him wouldn’t live the rest of his life like a monk, would he?

  He comes closer to me, his eyes full of fear, reflecting mine. “Please, answer me.”

  I walk backwards until my back hits the wall. “Stay away from me.” How could I be so foolish to believe him?

  “Taylor. What’s going on? You know I didn’t kill those people, right? Tell me you believe my innocence.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Please.”

  “Did you…” The words are so heavy that my lips can’t carry them out. “Did you kill Jack? The brakes in his car… Did you break them so they didn’t work?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that? Are you seriously asking me whether I murdered Jack?” he shouts on the top of his lungs. “I could never do such a thing. Not even for you. And even if I wanted to get rid of Jack, breaking the car would endanger your life, too. Think about it.”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Please, believe me. I didn’t kill anyone. I thought about killing the blackmailer that day he sent you the text, but I didn’t do it. I swear on the lives of my sisters I didn’t kill anyone. Please, just believe what I say. We’ll talk about it when I come back. Okay?”

  He strides to the bedroom and comes back wearing a white shirt and black pants, holding his phone against his ear. “Shit, Bree isn’t answering. I’ll send her a text.” He punches on the phone then calls his lawyer. After talking to him, he turns to me again and lifts his hands toward me but doesn’t dare to touch me. “It shouldn’t take too long. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything.”

  I want to believe him; I want to have the peace I was feeling just a few minutes ago, before the detectives came in and ruined it. And most of all, I want Adam to be innocent. God, how good my life could have been with him if I was sure of his innocence. I can’t have him close to me with the doubt that he took people’s lives… Jack’s life.

  “I’ll be here,” I say but the truth is, I don’t know. I can’t predict what I’m capable of doing. What if the devil in me shows his face again at another weak point and convinces me to attempt to end my life again? I should find a way to divert my negative thoughts. Maybe, I should call Bree.

  After Adam leaves, I hurry to the kitchen to look for my phone and dial Bree. She doesn’t answer. I dial her home. She’s not there, either. Where on earth is she hiding when I need her most?

  A knock on the door makes me jump, and I run to get it, hoping it’s Bree. I check on my bathrobe and run a hand through my hair before unlatching the door. I’m not exactly presentable but she has seen me at my worst, so why do I even worry about my look?

  I open the door and see the strangest pair of green eyes staring at me.

  ***

  “Valerie?” I have to ask, but it’s obviously her, except for her eyes. Her red hair is tightly pinned up in a bun at the back of her head; her lipstick is her favorite tone of dusky pink; her cheeks covered with a darker tone of pink. All her makeup is the same, except for the makeup on her eyes. Instead of her usual heavy mascara and dark shadows that she so loves to coat her eyelids with, they’re bare and plain and not framed by glasses.

  “Surprised to see me?” She raises her eyebrows, intently watching my face.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to see you.” I motion her inside with my hand and let her walk in. Her feet step silently in the brown flat pumps as she moves toward the living room. I follow her, examining her eyes as keenly as they are surveying Adam’s living room. There’s something else strange about her today, starting with the long, brown coat she’s wearing and the matching gloves. Unless she has health issues, like mine, causing her to feel constantly cold, her choice of clothing is redundant for the high temperatures of August in L.A. “Your eyes threw me off, a little.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She diverts those eyes back to me, catching me off-guard. Suddenly, I realize that I know those eyes backwards and forwards. I take a step closer to get a better view of them. And as soon as I detect the yellow drops right around the pupils, I shriek with shock. “Are you wearing contacts?”

  She shakes her head, sporting a hair-raising smile. “I was wearing contacts every time around you, but not today.”

  I swallow the lump of uneasiness in my throat, working hard to absorb her words.

  “Come on, won’t you finally tell me where you know my eyes from, or shall I spill the beans?” she asks.

  “Jack,” I say in a low voice. But how? Jack was a single child, and I don’t know any cousin from his father’s side with the same eyes as he and his father had.

  “Bingo. Now you must be wondering how on earth I have the same eyes as your dead husband, right?”

  My hands start trembling, as I realize something is totally off with Valerie today. Maybe something has always been off with her, and I never took notice of it. Why is she here now, exactly when Adam is escorted to the police station?

  She places a briefcase I’ve just noticed on the coffee table and takes a seat on the couch. “I’m his sister. Half-sister, that is.”

  “That’s…” I can’t find the right word. My mind has stopped working altogether.

  “Unexpected? Terrib
le? Outrageous?”

  “Impossible.”

  “Hah, that’s what my father told me, when I met him for the first time when I was seven. You know what else he told me?” Her voice is soft with a tint of agitation as she says father, and it gives me enough chills to get my body in alarm mode. “He told me to fuck off and find myself another father among the pimps that fucked my mother on a daily basis. Yeah, those were his words to a seven-year-old child. Not exactly father material, don’t you think?”

  I throw my hands on my cheeks. “That’s horrible.”

  “Horrible? You don’t know a thing about horrible. My entire life was horrible. I lived in trailers through most of my childhood. I had to start working at a young age so I could pay for the transportation to the crappiest schools in the state. All because of that motherfucker excuse of a man who denied me, his own blood, the love and care that I deserved while his real child got everything I should have been given, too. I have seen things that a person should never see, let alone a child. When my mother sued him, he convinced the judge that my mother actually stole a condom with his sperm in it and injected it inside herself to get pregnant.”

  I can’t help but wonder whether she’s making all that up about Jack’s father. I didn’t get the chance to know Jack’s father in person, because he’d died before I met Jack. But, just being Jack’s father is enough to think of him as a good and honorable man. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything. Unfortunately, though, you’ll have to pay for it.”

  “Of course, I will. I’ll transfer to you all the money I received from Jack through his inheritance from his father.” That’s only fair, considering what a dreadful childhood she’d gone through.

  She leans forward and grabs the briefcase, opening it. I tilt my head to see what’s inside, but can’t make out anything. “Not just that. I want the properties, the company, and the condo, too. Everything Jack had should be mine.”

  “But, the company is my responsibility. I owe it to him.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your shitty feelings of responsibility. Now, come over and sign these documents.” She pulls out a thick stash of papers and places them in front of me.

  I sit across from her and draw the documents to me to analyze them. The first page is the request to assign ownership for the company. She must have strong feelings for it to place it as the first page. Then come the transfer of stock ownership, the properties, the money in the saving accounts, the condo, and even the car Jack and I bought together. She’s out of her mind if she believes I’ll give her the condo and the car. I’d rather lose a limb than hand her the two things I had my happiest memories in.

  “I guess you aren’t aware that most of the properties belonged to Jack’s mother. Not his father. Well, I have to talk to my lawyer, anyway, before signing anything.” I place the documents back on the coffee table and look up to see Valerie laughing heartily, her loud voice echoing in the living room.

  “Are you that dumb to think that I’d let you talk to anyone?” Her laughter ceases abruptly. “Let me put you in the right state of mind. Jack told you his father died of cardiac arrest, right? Well, wrong. I made sure he got the medication to accelerate his heart rate, not slow it down. And the robber who stole his mother’s jewelry and pushed her into the swimming pool causing her death? That was yours truly, as well. I strangled her throat with my bare hands, until her squeaky voice stopped. I suppose I did Jack a big favor by freeing him from her irritating voice.” She shivers exaggeratedly, as if she’s heard a screeching sound.

  My hands are covering my mouth and my stomach is twisting; there’s a strong threat of it shooting out its contents.

  “That’s distressing you? Then I guess you’ll pass out when I tell you the truth about Jack’s death.”

  I blink my eyes several times and bite my lips to stop them from saying the most revolting words. My hands drop to my lap, forming into balls of fists despite the sharp pain in my wrists.

  “Yeah, you’ve guessed it right. I paid the mechanic to play with the car brakes.”

  A jolt of disgust courses through my body, shooting my heart to the highest pulse rate.

  “I must say his death satisfied me the most. If it wasn’t for him, maybe my father wouldn’t have denied my existence.”

  “He was your brother, for God’s sake. How could you do that to someone as good as him?” I shout so loudly that my throat hurts.

  She rolls her eyes for effect, as if to say I had said the most absurd words one could ever say. “I don’t care whether he was Jesus or a mafia leader. He stole what belonged to me and that’s enough reason for me to get rid of him. But, you. I wasn’t sure about killing you and when you came out alive from that deadly accident I thought maybe you weren’t meant to die. So I decided to give you a chance to prove your innocence to me. That’s why I applied for a job at the company.”

  “Also, it wouldn’t be so bad to learn the insights of the business and how to run the company that would soon be transferred to me. It turns out, you’re worse than Jack and his parents. You’d turned down Adam for years, but the minute you learned about my feelings for him you snatched him from me without caring about my feelings. And, now you’re living in his home, sharing his bed, wearing his bathrobe. Everything that I should be doing; not you. You stole my inheritance and now you’re stealing the man I love. You’re worse than a cheap whore. You sneak into the wealthy men’s bed just to steal their money. I think killing you will top the pleasure I had with Jack.”

  She’s delirious and delusional and the fact that she’s wiped out an entire family for money makes me want to rip her heart out and squeeze it until it explodes. “You think I’ll sign the documents after you’ve just confessed to me your plans of killing me?”

  “Oh, yes, you will. ’Cause otherwise I’ll give this to the police.” She pulls out a Ziploc bag with a gun in it, startling me with its sight, and holds it up in her hand. Of course she’ll have a gun with her. Why am I even surprised? “This is the gun I shot the three men with,” she adds.

  “Which three men?”

  “Oh, you’re really dense, aren’t you? The two men who attacked you in the garage. Those stupid motherfuckers were supposed to be professional killers but they couldn’t manage to cut your throat, like I’d asked them to.”

  “You sent them after me?”

  She nods her head, laughing a sinister laughter, scratching my ears. “What? You thought they were just some random robbers?”

  “Did you hire Case to film us in the storage room, too?”

  “No. It was me who filmed you and then blackmailed you. The guy had no idea what was going on even at the moment I unloaded the gun into his brains. He was the only innocent person I killed.” She jumps to her feet in one swift move and for one second I think she’ll launch her fists into my face. Circling around the coffee table, she moves to my side and grabs the pen to hand it to me.

  “Adam’s fingerprints are all over the gun,” she continues. “If you don’t sign the papers now I’ll hand it in as evidence to the police and you can be sure he’ll spend at least twenty years in jail. May even be executed. I’ll also make sure to get rid of all your living relatives. Your aunt visits her daughter’s grave ever so frequently. It won’t raise any eyebrows if a drunken teenager happens to rob her for money and kill her on the spot. And your sister. I can make sure she’s raped and tortured before killing her. Just so you know. The choice is yours. Either you die with dignity and save Adam’s and your relatives’ lives, or—”

  She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to. The untold words wrap around my throat like a sneak, stealing my breath away. I struggle to breathe; the thought of Adam languishing in prison, my sister and aunt tortured and murdered, sits like a tennis ball in my air-tube. The harder I try to inhale the less oxygen enters into my lungs. I clutch at my throat, punch at my chest to ease the constriction—uselessly. My sight is blurring, my head twirlin
g, and the vision of Adam in an orange prison uniform swallows me back into the darkness. I lose sense of space and time and feel a part of me leaving my body. My soul? I thought it was just a dream, my soul watching over me in the ambulance.

  A stinging slap across my face snaps me back to reality, where Valerie is waiting for me to sign the papers that’ll ensure Adam’s freedom and my sister’s and my aunt’s lives. My trembling hand lifts to pick up the pen she’s holding. I notice tiny red spots on my bandage. Suddenly the pain in my wrists hits me as if I’ve just rubbed it on barbed wire. I bite my lip hard to ignore my wrists and look down at the papers.

  “Hurry,” she screams, her voice piercing my ears.

  I viewed her as a good friend and thought our friendship would only get better with time. Yet, all the while she was hiding her true identity behind heavy makeup and thick glasses and plotting my end.

  Barely getting control of my hand, I sign the first paper and leaf through the next ones. Knowing what’s awaiting me after I’m through signing everything makes my hand tremble. I won’t even be able to see Adam for a last time, inhale his sweet scent, taste those hungry lips. I won’t be able to say goodbye to my sister and aunt. It takes an incredibly long time and energy to sign everything. Once I’m done Valerie snatches them off of the table, draws another gun out of the pocket of her jacket, and points it at my face.

  “You managed to survive even the fake suicide.”

  Confused and shocked, I palm my bleeding wrist. “I didn’t do it?”

  She smiles again. “You see how right I am about my observation of your stupidity. You don’t even know for sure whether it was you or someone else who tried to kill you. Of course, it was me. Admit it, it was a brilliant plan. I knew Bree would come at some point to leave you that change-order request because I heard your conversation at the office about signing it. Now that you’re officially labeled as suicidal, nobody will even investigate the scene here. And the fact that you transferred everything you owned to me is more proof of how intent you are about ending your own life.”