by S Doyle
“Who?” I asked. “Who told you this?”
“Landen. He called me after the police called him. He was drunk and I suppose he forgot I no longer worked for him. He needed me to drive him out there so he could search for his baby girl. That’s what he called her,” George said, disgusted. “His baby girl. He told me what the police told him. They’re still looking for her, Marc. I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t be so despairing. But that stretch of road she was on is so empty. Where would she go? Why wouldn’t they have found her already?”
“When did this happen?”
“Just two days ago. I was afraid you might see it on the news before I had a chance to tell you. Given Sanderson’s celebrity, it’s all anyone’s covering. The search for his missing bride.”
I didn’t watch television. Purposefully. I didn’t want to see coverage of Ash and Sanderson at some event, holding hands, dancing. Because she once told me not to believe anything anyone told me. Not even my own eyes.
“Ash, what do you think I’m going to believe?”
“The worst. I think you’re going to believe the worst.”
This was the worst. And I did believe it.
“He did it,” I said. “She knew…”
“…if I push him to that point, he’ll soon find me expendable.”
“He hit her,” I said, suddenly feeling numb. Like someone could stab me with a knife and I wouldn’t feel it.
“Who?”
“Sanderson. She came to see me last week. She had a black eye. She told me if she pushed him, which she must have, he would find her expendable. I don’t care if he was on camera at the fucking Super Bowl, he did it! He arranged it. He paid someone to…”
Kill her. That’s what I was going to say. That Evan Sanderson paid someone to kill his wife, because he’d quickly found her to be problematic.
But if I said that. If I believed that. Then I had to believe the first thing George told me.
That Ash was dead.
“I need to go,” I said quietly. Because the numbness was starting to wear off. The anger, the full tonnage of anger I’d been suppressing for so long, was bubbling up inside me. This time I wasn’t going to be able to control it.
Evan Sanderson killed Ash. He killed her. He killed her.
She was dead.
“I’ll keep you updated, Marc,” George promised me. “The police, they’re still searching…”
I didn’t listen. I needed to get away from him, away from people. I was going to blow, and I couldn’t be around anyone when I did. I walked up to the guard I knew from my weeks spent here. He was tall and broad, and, while he didn’t take shit, he also didn’t hand it out for fun just because he had power.
“I need to go to the SHU.”
He jerked back. “Dude, no one volunteers for solitary confinement.”
I clenched my hands into fists, feeling the power in them. Feeling like I could suddenly transform myself into a monster if I willed it hard enough. There was no control left.
“You either put me in there, or I start a fight with someone that lands me there anyway. You feel me? I’m about to lose my shit, and I can’t extend my stay in this place because of that. Put me in the goddamn SHU!”
I obviously convinced him, because I was escorted from the visiting area directly to the Special Housing Unit, which was made up of four cells cut off from the rest of the prison. Each cell was a contained unit, so, once inside, you didn’t see anyone else who might also have been punished.
The door shut behind me. I heard the guard tell me good luck, then I started hitting the walls with enough force to break most of my fingers on each hand. Even then I didn’t stop, because the pain, the physical pain, was the only thing that stopped me from losing my mind. I screamed as loud and as hard as I could, trying to find some release from the anger. The rage. The grief.
Evan Sanderson killed her.
Ash was dead.
And I had only one thing left to live for.
Revenge.
Don’t miss the exciting conclusion in Don’t Leave Me. Turn the page for an excerpt.
BUY NOW!
Don’t Leave Me
They took time away from me. Then they took Ash. I had only one reason left to live. Revenge…
Excerpt Don’t Leave Me
New York City
Two weeks after the wedding
Ashleigh
In the elevator, I pushed the button for the top floor and forgot I needed my card to allow me access. I wasn’t running late, but I still felt a sense of urgency. Evan knew where I’d been today. If anything about my visit to see Marc ruined his plans for tonight, he might use it as leverage to not allow me to go anymore.
Not that Marc was thrilled to see me. I understood it was a pride thing for him, but when he told me I didn’t have to visit, it still hurt. I found the card in my wallet and pushed it into the designated slot on the panel. Then I hit the top floor button and felt the elevator start to move.
This penthouse in the city was where Evan spent most of his time. While I was content to be alone in his home in Harborview. He thought it appropriate people around town see me there, given he was considering running for office in New Jersey, not New York. As it related to our marriage, it would also appear I’d settled in. Making our home in New Jersey, despite him having properties all around the country. A villa in Florida. A beachfront mansion in the Hamptons, a pied a terre in Paris.
This way we each had our space, but I could still get to the city easily when he needed me to be on call. Like he did tonight. The elevator doors slid open and I walked down the hall to his door.
I didn’t have a key because I wasn’t given that much access to his life.
I rang the bell and waited. Glancing at my watch, I timed out how long it would take me to shower, do my hair and makeup, then dress. Evan would have already chosen what I would be wearing. He was ridiculously particular about that, and, since I couldn’t care less, I let him do it. One less decision I had to make. Calculating my time, I realized I had plenty. If anything, I was probably early, which sucked because it meant I might have to be in his company for longer than was absolutely necessary.
He opened the door with a scowl, and I noticed his hair was oddly out of place. I’d never seen him even slightly disheveled. Then again, I hadn’t seen much of him since the wedding.
He’d at least been accurate about that. He did his thing, left me alone, and I had significantly more freedom than I’d had when living with Arthur. Especially during that last month after returning from Vegas.
“You’re early.” He said it like an accusation.
“I didn’t want to risk being late.”
He scowled again, but pulled back the door. I stepped inside and was startled to find he had company. Was that why he was annoyed? Had I interrupted his affair? He had to know I couldn’t care less who he had sex with. I was about to say that, when I stopped and realized the person in the room wasn’t a woman. Her height had confused me, but when I approached her, I realized she was young.
Very young.
“This is Lisa, she’s my cleaning woman’s daughter,” Evan explained. “She just stopped by to pick up a check for her mother.”
“Hi, Lisa,” I said.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and offered a shy smile. “Hi.”
I looked around the penthouse, that was, in fact, spotlessly clean. “Your mother does excellent work.”
She shrugged. “Thanks. I guess.”
Evan had made his way down a hallway to what I assumed was his bedroom, or maybe his study, and a few seconds later, he returned with a check in hand.
“Tell her not to forget it next time,” Evan said as he handed over the check. “You dropping in like this was inconvenient.”
I watched Lisa’s expression. Pouty, sullen. The look of a teenager—I suspected she was no older than sixteen—after being slightly admonished.
She took the check and stuffed it into the back pocket of
her jeans. Skin-tight jeans. A sexy, white top that exposed her midriff. She was dressed too old for her age, I thought, but she wasn’t my daughter.
“Yep. Sure. See you later,” she said. Then, in a huff, she left and shut the door behind her.
“I’ve laid out what you’re wearing tonight. It’s on the bed in your room. I’ll expect you to be ready promptly at six o’clock. A driver will be waiting downstairs to take us to the restaurant. I’ll be giving a speech this evening. I’ll need you to look at me adoringly.”
I gave him my best attempt at adoring, and he sniffed and moved around me, making his way toward the kitchen.
I wasn’t offered food or a drink. I didn’t expect any, either. I simply hiked my overnight bag higher on my shoulder and made my way down the hall to my room. I noticed his bedroom door was still open. The bed unmade.
Hair out of place, unmade bed. Lisa, picking up her mother’s check.
Evan wrote personal checks to his cleaning lady?
I didn’t think anything more about it and focused on getting ready for the evening.
No, that wasn’t exactly true. I forced myself not to think any more about it.
Until I couldn’t.
BUY NOW!
Also by S. Doyle
The Bride Series
My Super Sexy Spy
Just Call me Jane Series
The Boss Series
Alaska Hot Series
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