“We should go home,” he says, and I move with him. Pull my dress on and tug my knickers up and take his hand when it’s offered.
He calls a cab before we leave and I lean against him as we wait.
The cards are tumbling down all around me and right now I’m numb to the whole thing. I only have one card left.
One single card left and I’m intending to play it.
I’ll hand in my notice tomorrow with immediate effect. I’ll say there’s a family emergency, I’ll say anything. I’ll confess to Alexander that I lied about my name and say I was worried for my brother. Worried people would find out I was a hooker.
Maybe he’ll believe that. Maybe he’ll understand.
Maybe he’ll never check his employee records, not since he’s leaving himself.
Maybe we’ll escape into the sunset. Maybe he’ll come to love Joe as I love him.
It’s worth a shot. It’s the only one I have left.
It’s morning when the cab pulls up at his. I’m ready for a few hours’ sleep in his comfy bed before heading home to face the music with Dean, but as Alexander turns his key in the lock the alarm doesn’t beep with the countdown.
And I know.
Of course I know.
I freeze on the spot as he steps inside, tugging away from him at the horror that Sonnie’s already at work in there.
I can’t.
Oh God, I can’t.
He’ll know. He’ll know as soon as she stares at me, even if she doesn’t say anything… even if she doesn’t blow my cover…
“I have to go,” I tell him.
He turns back. “Go?”
“Right now,” I say. “I have something on this morning.”
His eyes dig into mine, and there’s an insecurity there I’ve never seen before.
“Look, Amy, if I said too much…”
I shake my head. “No! It’s not that!”
I hear Brutus padding through the hallway and I hear Sonnie’s voice calling him back, and I’m out of time.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s not that, I swear, but I have to go.”
“Go where?”
“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” I tell him. “I’ll be over at eight.”
He’s still staring as I run from there. He takes two steps in my direction before I’m out of sight.
I don’t stop running until I’m on the underground.Dean’s eyes are wild as he opens the door.
“Did you tell him?”
I shake my head and he groans.
He pulls the living room door closed as Joe watches TV with his cereals.
“What the fuck, Lissa?” he hisses. “You said you’d fucking tell him!”
“I can’t!” I hiss back. “I just can’t! He’d never forgive me!”
“Then what?” he snaps. “My ass is fucking bleeding, Lissa, the man’s a fucking animal.”
I lean against the wall, my heart pounding in my ears.
“He wants me to go away with him, he’s quitting his job and moving away.”
Dean’s face is a picture of horror. “Away with him? How can you go away with him? He doesn’t even know Joe exists!”
“You think I don’t know that?!” I snap, and the tears are coming. I try to choke them back. “I’m going to resign tomorrow, I’ll tell him I lied about my name and hope he forgives me, I don’t need to say anything else, maybe he’ll never know.”
“And what if he does know?” Dean’s eyes are like coals. “What if he finds out you fucking lied about everything? That even your fucking confession was a lie?”
I shrug. My laugh is deranged through the tears.
“Then it’s all fucked anyway.” I suck in a breath. “And so am I. I’m fucked without him, Dean. I can’t go on. I can’t.”
He pulls me into his arms and I feel like the terrible crazy bitch I really am. I feel like hell. I feel like this is everything I deserve for lying so much and not giving a damn for the consequences. Not giving a damn about anything but getting into Alexander Henley’s bed.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I’m so sorry for what I made you do.”
He breathes into my hair and he rocks me, and it makes me feel even worse to know he still cares, despite everything.
“Fuck, Lissa,” he whispers. “You didn’t make me do anything. I’d have done it all myself.”Chapter FortyAlexanderI shouldn’t have fucking said anything, but it’s done now.
She couldn’t hide the panic in her eyes, the crazy tension in her limbs as she freaked out and ran from me.
A couple of steps, that’s all I took, still fucking scarred from chasing that poor fucking cleaner down my street a few weeks back.
I should’ve chased Amy harder. I should’ve dragged her inside and made her listen to me.
I should’ve told her I loved her.
Because I do. I do fucking love her.
It’s not Melissa that’s cleaning my house this morning, it’s the girl from last week.
She’s still petrified of Brutus, I hear it in her voice when she calls him, tells him to get his sorry ass back where she can see him.