‘My last relationship was with a woman called Layla,’ he said. Layla was part of the reason he’d been happy to leave New York. ‘We met and had a crazy affair.’
‘Why did it end?’
‘She didn’t realise that who I was at the start of the relationship would be who I was when it ended. She was scatty, all over the place, far too dependent on me. She wanted to settle down, at least that’s what she said. What she really needed was a keeper.’
‘That’s not very nice,’ Molly said.
‘It’s the truth,’ he said. ‘I was crazy about her at the start, but by the end she was all there was. There wasn’t a her and a me. It was all about her.’
‘Every relationship leads to some kind of sacrifice.’
‘I don’t see it as sacrifice, it’s compromise. Both have to give a little to get a little back. It’s the same in life.’
‘Maybe that’s why so many people around me end up getting hurt. I don’t give enough, I don’t let people know that they can trust me to help them.’
The mood in the car had become much more sombre. Molly sat fingering the end of her scarf, and Blake wondered if this one car ride would change everything.
‘You are a kind and gracious woman,’ he said. ‘I find it hard to believe that you would hurt anyone. We all make mistakes.’
‘Mistakes don’t end up with people getting dead,’ she muttered.
This was it, Blake thought to himself. This was the opening and he had to ask, though there was a part of him that was dreading what she might reveal. ‘Dead? That’s a bit final. Who ended up dead?’
‘My brother, my father… my mother. Steven.’
‘Steven is different,’ Blake said. ‘Isn’t he?’
‘Is he? Or is he worse than the rest? I was with my brother when he was hurt, I was there when he died. My dad’s heart gave up, but he was surrounded by love that night. Steven…’
‘Steven?’ Blake prompted, but she sat in silence, somehow he could tell that she was struggling with her demons.
‘Do you want to know a secret?’ she muttered. ‘I knew them all.’
Drawing her focus to his, Blake did his best to hide his intrigue. ‘Them all?’
‘You read the papers right?’ she asked, and Blake nodded. ‘Steve, Andy and Paddy. The murder victims. I knew them all.’
‘All of them?’ Blake asked. ‘How did you know them?’
‘They were in my brother’s group of friends, they were all within a year of each other at school.’
This wasn’t a leap, because the local school campus was where everyone in this area went, and some of the city kids too.
‘Had you seen them recently? Other than Steven… he worked for you, right?’
She nodded. ‘Paddy and I had been out a few times, he was a good friend, and he missed Cal probably more than the rest of them.’ Of the group of friends, Paddy was the closest to Cal, the two shared everything. At times, he was like another Ashton sibling.
This explained why her fingerprints were at his residence, but Blake had no idea that she had any connection to Andrew Forsyth whatsoever.
‘And Andrew?’
She began to pick at her fingernail. ‘He was my first,’ she said and an awkward smile flashed to her lips and then vanished. ‘A long time ago. Cal was the only one who knew back then. He went nuts.’
‘You slept with Andrew Forsyth?’
‘You remember his full name?’
‘Their names are everywhere at the moment,’ Blake covered.
‘I was fifteen. It was just six months before Cal died... Paddy was in the car with us… the day of the accident.’
The file on the accident hadn’t made its way to his office yet, so this was vital new information. ‘I had no idea. It must be awful for you.’
‘I just wonder if they all deserved it,’ she said.
‘Deserved it?’
‘To be taken from this world in the way that they were.’
‘Does anyone deserve it?’ Blake asked.
While running her fingernail along the edge of her scarf, her focus became more intense. ‘Andy came to see me. A couple of days before he died. He wanted to talk… I told him to get lost.’
‘What did he want to talk about?’
Blake was reeling. Thankfully, he had a recorder on in the car. His intention to draw this out of her over the night was coming to a head much more quickly than he thought, so his forethought proved to be smart.
‘It’s a long story,’ Molly said, and exhaled a laugh. ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t really proper first date etiquette.’
‘I think we broached those boundaries last night.’
‘Tell me about your family.’
‘No. You need to talk about this. You can talk to me.’
‘No,’ Molly said. ‘It’s just been a tough day today. I keep remembering last night, being there alone and feeling helpless. Then I think of them, when they were murdered, alone, scared… they had to deserve it, because surely no God would put good, innocent men through that.’
‘Do you think that’s how it works? Murder victims are just receiving karmic justice?’
‘I don’t know…’ With a sigh she drifted off for a few seconds, then snapped back and pasted a smile onto her face. ‘Anyway, all we do is talk about me. I want to know about you.’
‘Not much to tell,’ Blake said. ‘I’m a city boy.’
‘What did you do before you worked for me?’
‘Whatever I could,’ Blake said. ‘I’m pretty good with my hands.’
Molly conceded a laugh. ‘You’ve certainly been handy to me.’
‘Here we are,’ Blake said, and pulled up to an apartment block just off the main road.
‘You live here?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Home sweet home.’
‘This isn’t Willow Bank.’
‘Close enough.’
To prevent her from asking further questions, Blake hopped out of the car and rounded it to open her door. The truth was, this wasn’t his home at all; it was Jason’s.
When his grandparents had passed, he, his brother, and his parents, had all received an inheritance, along with a share of the life insurance. The money would keep them all comfortable for life and then some. With their share, his parents had bought their rural establishment. His brother, Brandon, had set up his company. Blake had bought his house and his truck, and the rest of the money remained in the bank.
Jason wouldn’t be back tonight, because Blake had sent him to his house. Whenever Jason was at Blake’s he relished taking full liberties. Because Jason knew it was the plan for Blake to bring Molly to his place, he was supposed to have tidied up and removed all evidence of himself. Of course if Blake knew his partner, and he did, he would have left a few embarrassing things lying around for Blake to explain.
After unlocking the communal door, Blake guided Molly through with a hand at the small of her back, and he took her up the stone stairs to Jason’s mid-floor apartment. When Blake jangled the key in the front door lock and it didn’t budge, he knew he’d selected the wrong one.
‘You don’t know your own keys?’ she laughed.
‘I’m not used to having such a beautiful distraction,’ he said, and kissed her forehead.
Eventually inside, they walked up the dark narrow corridor, which had the bathroom and bedroom leading off it. Blake fumbled for the light switches when they reached the living room with the open-plan kitchen.
Molly went straight to the window to admire the view. The apartment was a pit. Though it was tidy enough, there was no mistaking the damp smell that crept from every wall. The place was decorated in deep browns, which further cramped the already small space.
Jason’s first gift was there on the coffee table when Blake dropped the keys to it. A busty blondes magazine lay in prime position, and Blake had to smile at his partner’s effort. Shoving it to the floor, he kicked it under the couch, then made his way to join Molly by the window.
‘Seeing the town all lit up at night is amazing,’ she said. ‘I love the view.’
Her exuberance about their slightly elevated position made Blake wonder how she would like the view from his bedroom window. Though his house was only two storeys, it was set on the top of a hill, and on a clear day you could see for miles.
‘So do I,’ he said, relaxing on the wall next to the window to stare at her.
‘I meant out of the window,’ she said, and while admiring the view her lips curled.
‘I meant you,’ he said without shame, and tucked her hair back behind her ear. The contact made her eyes close, and her head drifted against his hand. ‘It wasn’t my intention to bring you back here yet. I had reservations at a restaurant around the corner.’
‘Are you hungry?’ she murmured, and her heavy lids parted.
His tongue moistened his lips. ‘Not for anything they serve in a restaurant.’
‘I don’t sleep with men on first dates. Unless it’s just a one night stand, I suppose.’
‘Which is this?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ she said, and crossed her arms.
Her probing gaze narrowed and he speculated about her meaning. If she was innocent, it meant that she hadn’t decided yet if he was serious about her or vice versa. If she was guilty, it seemed to mean that she hadn’t decided yet whether or not to kill him.
‘Why don’t you do the date thing?’ Blake asked. ‘Honestly.’
‘I pick the wrong men,’ she said. ‘I have to tell myself that, because if it wasn’t true then it would mean that all men are evil pricks.’
‘Wow, your tune has changed since the car.’
‘I can believe I hurt the men in my life by pushing them away, while still believing that some of them deserved it. I guess Harry messed me up.’
‘Were you intimate with Steven or Patrick?’
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ she asked.
‘I think it’s clear that you and Andy didn’t get along.’
‘That was complicated.’
‘How?’ he asked.
‘I don’t want to talk about Andy, or the others.’ Her hands rose to his shoulders, and she pulled her body to his. Reciprocating, Blake slid his hands to her waist, then down to her hips.
‘You’ve decided what this is then,’ Blake said.
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘You could give me the tour.’
The sparkle in her eyes blinded him in cooperation with her rosy cheeks. Pushing her about the victims had brought her to a quick decision. Maybe she only confessed her connection to the victims with men who she believed weren’t going to make it through the night. It was the classic bad guy revealing his evil plan at the end of the movie. Only for her victims, the good guy hadn’t prevailed.
Experiencing hurt about her decision made him curious. Either way, whatever her decision, it wasn’t good for him. If she was guilty, she wanted to kill him. If she was innocent, she wasn’t serious about him. This revelation should have him swinging from the rafters in joy, but it didn’t. The twist in his gut betrayed his sickness at her flippant dismissal of him.
‘Why don’t we have a drink first?’ Blake asked.
‘Limber me up?’ she said, swaying her hips as she made her way to the couch.
Blake went to the kitchen and found the wine that he had given Jason to put in the fridge for her. ‘Nothing like a woman with lowered inhibitions.’
His heart wasn’t in it anymore, so his words were flat. Molly’s spirit flourished, but one way or the other he was going to find out the truth tonight. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, because as soon as he found out this would all be over. No more working for Molly. No more of her smile or mischievous games and comments. He wouldn’t be able to touch her or kiss her or hear her laugh.
‘I probably need it,’ she said. ‘I haven’t done this properly for a while.’
‘Properly?’ Blake asked as he carried her wine and his beer back to the couch.
‘Well I’ve had a couple of fumbles.’
‘How far did they get?’
‘The bedroom,’ Molly said, gulping down her wine. The booze had loosened her enough to let him into the function room at Ashton’s, and he was beginning to realise that she was a feather weight where alcohol was concerned.
‘You didn’t finish?’
She shook her head. ‘Neither did they. I kind of chickened out at the last minute.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he said.
‘You don’t seem like the type to let a woman change her mind.’
Her dismissal of him made Blake growl again. ‘What type do I seem like, Mol? You have me down as a bastard, liar, and a cheater. Now I’m a pervert too?’
‘I didn’t… I—‘
‘Give a guy a break, Molly! I’m doing my best here!’
‘Don’t snap at me!’
Other than his family, no one ever raised their voice to him; certainly strangers didn’t dare argue with him. ‘You really think I’m a bastard, though, don’t you?’
‘No!’ Molly argued. ‘I actually felt guilty last night for just assuming you were what you appeared, but if today and tonight is anything to go by!’
‘What? Maybe I do deserve to be judged?’
‘We’re all judged!’
‘By who, Molly? Who has the right to judge any of us?’ he asked.
‘We’re accountable to each other!’
‘Meaning what?’ he barked, and jumped off the couch.
‘Meaning that when you start accusing me of judging you, I have the right to defend myself!’
‘Then I do too!’ he retorted, as she thrust to her feet in front of him.
‘Not in that tone! You shouldn’t speak to anyone that way! I don’t like being yelled at!’
‘You’re doing enough of it yourself there, Sugar!’
‘It appears to be the only way you will understand! Jesus, what is your problem?’
‘You!’ he shouted. ‘You are my fucking problem, Ashton!’ Running his hand through his hair, he turned his back to her.
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘Nothing,’ he muttered. ‘Forget it.’
‘You can’t say that to a person and then not explain your meaning! What did I do?’
‘Look at you!’ he screamed, whipping around to face her. ‘You stand there in a dress like that, with legs that go all the way up to the ceiling, and I…’ To stem the words, he squeezed his lips together, and sucked a long breath through his nose. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you! Everywhere I am, there you are, in my fucking head, torturing me!’
‘I don’t torture you! I have done nothing to you!’
‘Exactly!’ he said, crowding her. ‘You stand there with those…’ His fists clenched in an attempt to stop him from reaching out. ‘Those big innocent Bambi eyes of yours, and then your cheeks flush, and you smile, and your eyes just… they smoulder, and it burns my soul, Mol. Don’t you get it? I’m not supposed to feel this way! I’m not allowed to feel this way!’
Molly blinked, her mouth slipped open, and her shoulders fell back. ‘I… I—‘
‘Don’t do that,’ he said, with a sway of his head as he stepped away again. ‘Please, Mol, don’t do that.’
Breaking down in front of a woman was not something that Blake had ever done before. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t crying or screaming, he couldn’t prevent his pain seeping from his features to hers.
‘I’m not doing anything,’ she said, attempting to move toward him, which prompted him into retreat.
‘That mouth,’ he said, rubbing his fingers under his eyes to try and wipe the frustration from his mind. ‘Your lips beg to be kissed, babe. And now I know what they taste like. You’re so soft I—‘
‘Stop it!’ Molly demanded. She crossed the room to him and punched his shoulder. It wasn’t full force, but enough to shock him into a gaping si
lence.
Blake shook the surprise from his system and snatched her wrist to hold it down on the breakfast bar beside them. ‘What the hell was that for?’
‘See,’ she murmured with that familiar sparkle. ‘I’m not perfect.’
‘No, you’re not! What the fuck? I can’t believe that you did that.’
‘Maybe I deserve to be punished,’ she said, widening her smile and lowering her chin, while letting her glowing eyes creep up to his.
This was it, if there was any other proof he needed, this was it. She had to be Choker. She was teasing him. She was talking sadomasochism. Whips and chains. Restraints and gags… she had to be.
‘How would you like me to do that?’ he asked.
‘Have you got a towel?’
‘A towel?’ Of all the things he might have considered, a towel would be the last thing on his list. The impish grin plastered on her face intrigued him. ‘What do you need a towel for?’
‘Get me one and you’ll find out.’
‘What kind of towel?’ he asked her, lifting her wrist to his lips. ‘Did I hurt you?’
While shaking her head, Molly draped her hands onto his neck and pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. ‘No more than I hurt you.’
‘Do you still want that towel?’
‘A bath towel,’ she said, going back to her wine on the table. Deliberately not looking directly at her, he watched her down all of the liquid in his peripheral vision. She was nervous. Was it in a serial killer to be nervous?
Chapter Eleven
Every second he was gone seemed like an hour, but eventually he returned to her in the living room with a navy blue bath towel in hand and took a seat beside her on the couch.
‘I’m scared to ask what we need this for,’ Blake said, handing her the towel.
‘Stay,’ she said, and kissed his cheek.
The glass of wine was appreciated now perhaps more than she’d ever appreciated alcohol before in her life. Alcohol had never agreed with her, and a single glass of wine could erase her inhibitions, for which she was grateful now. Running into the bathroom that she’d glimpsed on their entry, Molly tried to quell her nerves because she hadn’t done anything this brazen in years.
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