by Hannah Ford
I walked into my office, then closed the door behind me and sighed. I felt like I’d just been on a tilt-a-whirl, and now I was finally getting a chance to catch my breath.
I pulled my phone out to check my messages.
A text from my mother.
Charlotte, please call me.
My stomach rolled on itself as I thought about how I’d slapped her.
I knew I should apologize – whatever she’d done, she hadn’t deserved that.
And yet I didn’t feel like dealing with her right now. My mother had two different ways of dealing with conflict. One, just pretend everything was fine. Or two, ice you out and make little passive aggressive comments until you broke down and asked her what was wrong. Then she would bring up every way you’d hurt her, and if you’d try to do the same, she would apologize, but in an “I’m sorry you’re so sensitive” kind of way.
I decided I’d call her after the meeting. Now that Noah and I were back together, she would probably be thrilled and willing to forgive our fight.
I stepped through my office and into my adjoining private bathroom and took a long shower, being careful not to wash the marker off of my breasts and wrists. It wasn’t hard. With permanent marker, it was going to take more than just one shower for it to wash off.
I dressed quickly in a skirt and button-up cream blouse that I found in the closet, slipped into a pair of black pumps, swiped my lips with a slick of gloss and then walked quickly to Conference Room B.
When I got there, Noah was sitting at the head of the table, and he rose up and walked to meet me.
“Ms. Holloway,” he said. “You are looking more beautiful than ever.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cutler.”
He pulled me to him and kissed me, and I flushed. He unbuttoned the top of my shirt, just a couple of buttons, inspecting the top of my breasts, where he’d written BAD GIRL.
“You won’t wash it off until I allow it.” His hands slipped below my waist and cupped my ass cheeks. “It’s a shame you had to wash my cum off you,” he whispered into my ear and my breath caught. “But we’ll take care of that again later.”
There was a sound from out in the hallway -- the ding of the elevator.
Clementine and Lilah had arrived.
Noah gave me a cocky grin as his hands continued roaming over my ass, apparently not caring that we could be caught.
“Noah,” I protested, grabbing at his hand, but his hands continued roaming over my skin, pushing my skirt up.
I could hear the sound of Clementine’s heels clicking against the floor as they came closer.
I blushed hot at the thought of her catching me with my skirt up.
But Noah pulled it down just as the door to the conference room opened.
But he was still holding me close, his hand now on my waist, my chest flush with his.
“Oh,” Clementine said when she saw us. Her face, as always, was flawless, her skin poreless and perfect, her hair pulled back in a low bun. She was wearing a gold shift dress and pearls, and she was somehow able to look professional and sexy at the same time. My blouse and skirt, which had up until a moment ago seemed fine, suddenly felt like I was a kid trying to play dress up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t –”
“It’s fine,” Noah said. “Come in, come in.” He kissed me softly on the lips before letting me go, and I blushed at his public display of affection. For Noah, kissing me quickly the way he had was akin to taking out an ad in the New York Times.
Clementine’s eyes met mine, and I saw the look of annoyance that flashed there. Her eyes slid down to my open blouse.
I followed her gaze to where my top two buttons were undone, and you could see the top of the letters Noah had written on my chest.
But not all of them, thank God.
I quickly did the two buttons and pulled at my sleeves, making sure my wrists were covered.
Clementine gave me a knowing look of disgust and I blushed.
Had Noah done that to her too? Written dirty words on her body, branded her the way he’d done to me?
I shook the thoughts from my head.
I was the one who was with Noah.
Clementine was just his ex-girlfriend. Or, his ex-submissive, rather.
I was his fiancé.
His fiancé with no engagement ring.
Still. I had nothing to be ashamed about. I met Clementine’s eye as she pushed past me into the room.
Lilah was behind her, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and black pants, her long hair in tangles around her shoulders, sneakers on her feet. She looked young and innocent, and I knew it was a carefully constructed look, probably something Clementine had come up with (or maybe Noah?) so that if the press took pictures of her, they would find only pictures of her looking young and vulnerable, like the kind of girl who would never commit murder unless she’d been pushed to it by some unspeakable acts.
“Hello, Lilah,” I said, remembering how the last time I’d seen her she’d been plucking her own hair from her head.
“Hi,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.
The four of us sat down around the huge conference table, Noah at the head, me on one side and Clementine and Lilah on the other. I reached into my bag and pulled out my iPad, then frowned.
On the screen wasn’t my usual screensaver of the city line of New York. Instead, there was a square black graphic with a quote written in white swirly script. At first I thought I had the wrong iPad, but then I noticed the nick at the bottom, from where I’d dropped it one day while getting off the subway.
I read the quote.
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. — Friedrich Nietzsche
I stole a glance at Noah. He didn’t react, but I blushed with happiness. He must have changed my screensaver!
God, I loved him so much.
“Lilah, I’d like to talk to you about some things,” Noah said and I pulled out a pen and paper so I could take notes.
“Yeah?” Lilah asked. She was leaning back in her chair, swiveling it back and forth. If she was at all concerned that she’d been arrested for murder, she sure as hell wasn’t showing it.
“It’s about what the doctor said,” Noah said. “But before we get to that, I need to be clear with you about something. Charlotte is going to be assisting me on this case. If you want to continue working with me, then she will be granted access to everything you and I talk about.”
It was brief, just a second, but I thought Lilah was going to protest. But then she shrugged her tiny shoulders and said, “Okay.”
“Good.” Noah said shortly.
I let out a sigh of relief. I really hadn’t expected it to be that easy, and I wondered if I should be suspicious of her sudden change of heart.
“Now,” Noah said, and his tone was brusque. He pulled some papers from a thin file folder. “According to the doctor’s report, Lilah, you’re faking.”
My stomach turned in on itself, and I tried not to show my shock.
“What?” Lilah looked at Clementine in a panic, but Clementine looked just as shocked as Lilah did. Lilah sat up in her chair and gripped the side of the table. “I’m not faking!”
“The doctor thinks you can remember what happened the night of Ryan’s murder.”
“I can’t!”
“Are you sure?” Noah asked, raising his eyebrows.
“You think I did it on purpose,” Lilah said softly. “You don’t think it was self-defense.” Her hands twisted in front of her and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the so obviously contrived gesture.
“I do think it was self-defense,” Noah said. “But you also haven’t given me a plausible explanation for why that would be true.”
“Because I can’t remember.”
“According to the doctor, you can.”
“I can’t!” she said, and now there were tears in her eyes. She met my glance across the table, and for the first time, I saw the deep pain reflected th
ere, and I felt myself waving in my belief that she’d done it on purpose, that it wasn’t self-defense. Had I been too hard on her? Was she really just a kid who’d been abused?
“Okay.” Clementine, who’d been quiet up until now, set her pen down and leaned forward in her chair. “Lilah, would you mind leaving the room for a moment?”
“That’s not a good idea,” Noah said. He glanced over at Lilah, his face dark, and I knew exactly what he was thinking about – he was thinking about how she ran.
“I have something to show you,” Clementine said to Noah.
“Show me in front of Lilah,” Noah said.
“I’d prefer not to.”
Noah sighed, then pulled out his phone and called Jared to come into the building from where he was waiting outside with the car.
“Go meet Jared in the lobby, Lilah,” Noah commanded.
I thought she was going to protest, to say that she wanted to stay, but she stood up, her eyes shiny with tears. She glanced at me as she left, and the look on her face was so pathetic that I actually felt bad for her.
Dammit.
Was Noah right? Had I been wrong about Lilah?
Once she’d left the conference room, Noah sent Jared a text to make sure he had Lilah.
“What is it, Clementine?” Noah asked brusquely, and I liked that he was being short with her.
“This.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a cell phone, slid it across the desk toward Noah. “Look at the photos.”
I watched as Noah picked up the phone and began scrolling through the photos, one by one. Clementine was watching him with a self-satisfied look on her face, as if she knew whatever was on that phone was golden. But Noah showed no reaction.
When he was done paging through the photos, he slid the phone over the table toward me.
I picked it up.
When I got to the first photo, I gasped. It was a girl, her face bruised and beaten. It was taken from the POV of the person holding the camera, and she was giving whoever was holding the camera a blowjob. I scrolled to the next. This one was another girl, her face also beaten, deep purple bruises on her neck. Whoever was holding the camera was fucking her.
I put the phone down, bile rising into my throat, not wanting to see any more.
“That’s Ryan Aqualino’s phone,” Clementine said.
Ryan. Lilah’s boyfriend, the one she killed, the one she’d said was making her do horrible things. The imagines on that phone would certainly corroborate her story.
I looked at Noah excitedly, waiting for him to smile, to show some kind of reaction to what could be a huge piece of evidence in the case. We hadn’t even begun to start, and yet already we were being given something amazing.
“Where did you get this?” Noah asked.
“From the crime scene,” Clementine said, and the first worm of doubt began pushing its way into my heart.
“The crime scene,” I blurted. “How did you get access to the crime scene?”
Lawyers usually weren’t given access to crime scenes so early. First the police had to go through the evidence piece by piece, cataloguing everything. And they sure as hell wouldn’t have let her just remove something like that. From what I could tell, there was no evidence tag or mark on the phone.
“I have friends, Charlotte,” Clementine said, like I was a child who needed everything explained to her.
“You stole it from the crime scene?” I asked incredulously.
“Oh, grow up,” she said and rolled her eyes. She began swiveling back and forth in her chair, just like Lilah had been doing a few moments. ago. “This is how these things work. Tell her, Noah.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Tell me, Noah.” I looked at him, but he was just staring at the phone quietly.
“Noah,” I said. “You’re not seriously thinking about using this. If you get caught, you’ll be –”
He held his hand up. “Quiet,” he said. “I’m thinking.”
Clementine stared at me over the table. It was a stalemate, waiting to see who Noah was going to side with – me or her.
But before he could answer, my phone began ringing from inside my bag.
“Sorry,” I said, my face flaming red as Clementine rolled her eyes at me again. I wasn’t sure why, but suddenly felt like I was in class, and Clementine and Noah were my professors who were going to scold me for having my phone on.
“Who is it?” Noah asked as I pulled my phone out of my bag.
“I don’t know.” The caller ID was flashing a private number.
“It better not be that asshole therapist,” he said.
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“Answer it.”
I swallowed and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
There was no sound on the other end of the line, and then finally, an eerily familiar voice.
“Charlotte?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hi,” the voice said, but I was unable to place it.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me,” the voice said gleefully. “It’s me, Charlotte. It’s Professor Worthington.”
My mouth went dry and blood rushed through my ears. “How are you calling me?” I asked, my voice strangled.
The words sent Noah reaching for the phone, but not before I heard the Professor’s reply.
“I’m not in jail anymore, Charlotte. I got out. And I can’t wait to see you.”
* * *
END OF BOOK NINETEEN
Look for Book Twenty, Coming Soon
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TURN THE PAGE TO READ THE COMPLETE DEBT SERIES BY KELLY FAVOR, INCLUDED HERE AS A BONUS BOOK!
The Debt (Club Alpha) by Kelly Favor
THE DEBT 1
Raven Hartley had a very bad feeling about this.
She was standing with a group of five other girls in front of a sprawling mansion. There were a couple of dozen cars parked along the driveway—Porches, Lamborghinis, Jaguars, Mercedes.
“Can you believe this is happening?” Raven’s friend Skylar whispered in her ear.
“Not really,” Raven replied, and she meant it.
This wasn’t her scene. She didn’t know any of these girls except for Skylar. In point of fact, they’d met the girls at a club just a few hours prior, and after having some shots and dancing together, the girls had convinced Raven and Skylar to tag along with them to the next hot spot.
It was too late at night, the surroundings too unfamiliar, and everything in Raven’s body told her that it was time to go home while she could still call the outing a success.
Remember what happened the last time you went to a party and didn’t consider the repercussions?
But Skylar was so happy, grabbing Raven’s arm and giggling as they approached the ornate doorway, one of the girls pushing the doorbell and then waiting to see who would answer.
Raven didn’t want to let Skylar down. Besides, if the party turned out to be lame or creepy, she told herself she could always leave through the front door.
Finally, the door opened and a slender man in a tuxedo stood there. He looked at the girls, his eyes taking in each one in turn, as if assessing their worth. “Okay, let’s have your cell phones. Drop them in the basket and I’ll return them when you leave.”
The girls began trooping obediently inside, doing just as he’d asked, which Raven found strange. Skylar went in ahead of Raven, putting her phone in a basket that was positively overflowing with all makes and models of phone.
And then it was Raven’s turn. She hesitated at the threshold.
“Do you want to come in or not?” the man in the tuxedo said, as if he had a million other better places to be and people to be talking to right then.
“I don’t see why I should have to give you my phone,” she told him. “I’ll keep it in my purse, scout’s honor.” She raised her hand as if to swear on the bible, and g
ave the man a little grin to show she wasn’t so bad.
But the tuxedoed man didn’t find her funny. “The reason we don’t allow cell phones inside,” he said drily, “is that our clientele is very exclusive. There are those in attendance who are regularly stalked and harassed by paparazzi. It’s for our guests’ protection that we’ve established these rules.”
Raven thought about it. She didn’t like the idea of giving up her cell phone just to go into some party in a fancy house. The only reason she was even there was because of Skylar.
Be honest, Raven. You went out tonight because you were sick and tired of having no social life. You didn’t do it as any big favor to Skylar.
Okay, so maybe she did need a fun night out on the town. But they’d had that already. Raven hadn’t done this much socializing in a very long time, maybe since high school.
Yeah, and remember how that turned out? Remember what happened the last time you let your guard down?
But she didn’t want to dwell on the past. It had been years since the darkest time in her life, and now she was almost twenty-two years old and sick of hiding from the world.
She wasn’t going to let her past stop her from experiencing any fun.
I’m still young, I’m still free. I need to enjoy my life for a change.
That decided her. Trying not to second-guess her decision, Raven dropped her phone into the basket and walked inside, and Skylar whooped and hollered her approval.
Now they were all clapping and laughing, walking through the enormous foyer with its ridiculous fountains, statues, and it was like walking through a museum—only everything felt dreamlike, completely unreal.
But is it a dream or a nightmare? Raven asked herself as they began walking up the wide marble staircase to the second floor. Luckily, the girls they were with seemed to know the way around, because otherwise it would’ve been easy to get lost.
Skylar looked at her with wide eyes as they climbed the steps, their heels echoing. “I think we’re in paradise,” she said.
“I hope you’re right,” Raven said. She had a feeling that the opposite might be the case.