What more am I supposed to understand? That he thinks I’m a pathetic sucker? “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.” I swallow a bitter ball forming in my throat. “Stop harassing me, Lucas. I don’t want to listen. There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind. You blew it.”
“Ava!” His fists slam against the door again. “Then one minute.”
“You’re not getting another second. Go away before Ray and Darcy come back. Or are you going to try to explain to them why you did what you did?”
“I don’t care what they think. The only thing that matters is what you believe.”
“I believe the worst. There. Go away. If not, I will disappear again. And this time you won’t find me.”
“Don’t even think about it, Ava,” he threatens in a voice so awful and dark that it sends shivers down my spine. “The only reason I didn’t find you in the last two years is because I didn’t try. But this time I won’t just sit on my ass and do nothing. I’ll hire a platoon of private detectives if that’s what it takes.”
It’s more than a threat. It’s a promise, and it sends cold terror through me. If he digs too hard and too much, he’ll find out about Mia.
No. Anything but Mia.
“Lucas… you need to go. Please,” I add, feeling utterly defeated and drained.
There’s a pause that feels interminable. Then he quietly says, “I hate doing this, but I’m going to leave now and give you a chance to calm down. Once you do, I hope you realize what we’ve had over the last week was all real—what we had at the bed and breakfast was real. We can have that for the rest of our lives, and you want to throw it all away because of something you read on the internet. I’ll be back, though. Tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, until you give me a chance to explain. I’m not giving you up without a fight.”
Pressing my lips together, I blink away another wave of tears. How dare he say that after shattering my heart?
He has no right.
Another eternal moment passes. Then I hear the sole of his shoe turn on the concrete porch, footsteps as he walks away, a car door open and shut, the engine start. It’s Lucas leaving…as he said he would.
Feeling like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, I drag myself upstairs to my room and message Bennie. Hey.
Oh my fucking god. There you are. Holy shit. What took you so long? Were you digging a ditch deep enough to bury him?
I let out a watery laugh. Leave it up to Bennie to lighten the mood even when everything feels bleak and hopeless. No. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know anything was going on because my phone was off until about half an hour ago.
You should’ve killed him.
I wipe my tears impatiently. I should’ve listened to you.
I’m so sorry. I wish I could be there for you.
I do too, I type, fighting a sob. I miss my best friend so much. I wish you were here too.
Stay tough. You can get through this. Lucas isn’t strong enough to destroy you.
I close my eyes as another shard of pain digs into me. Bennie is wrong, and it’s too late. Lucas has already destroyed me. I gave him that power when I gave him my heart.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ava
True to his word, Lucas doesn’t give up. For the next seven days, every day, he comes by at nine thirty sharp. Thankfully, Ray and Darcy act as a barricade. They’ve seen the social media furor, and they’re incensed on my behalf. But they don’t ask me to talk. I think they knew better when they saw my face swollen with tears.
Not willing to brave the world quite yet, I stay cooped up in my room. I need to answer an email I received while Lucas and I were away—some medical center in L.A. wanting to interview me, thanks to my old roommate Erin’s recommendation—and I need to take care of myself, but at the moment everything just seems like too much.
Within a day of the ugly exposé, Lucas’s twin, Elliot, makes a social media post about how stupid it is to believe the bullshit since there is no way anybody can assume he’s the type to marry merely for some lousy inheritance.
From the ensuing reaction, it seems like it worked. Then Lucas’s more famous half-brother, Hollywood superstar Ryder Reed, goes on an interview to promote his latest film and addresses the matter publicly. I watch the segment on my phone.
“Get real. The idea that I married Paige for a painting is silly. I mean, my reputation’s a little on the wild side, and I’ve done a lot of over-the-top crazy stuff that most people would never do.” He gives the camera an impossibly handsome and winning grin. “But I’d never marry someone I didn’t respect and love.”
“But it’s understandable that people are skeptical,” the interviewer says. “Your wife isn’t like most women you’ve had…er…relationships with.”