A strange look comes into his eyes before he shakes it off. “Yes, exactly. We were never meant to be together. You hurt me. I hurt you back. You helped me restore my good character with the press. Best to call it quits while we’re ahead, eh?”
“Quits. Yes, best to call it quits.” My face feels numb. So do my arms and legs... And I’m positive someone scooped out my heart and replaced it with a big block of ice.
“Right, then. Good talk. Gotta go now. Don’t stay up for me.” He raises a hand in farewell, then brushes past me and out of the room. His footsteps on the staircase fade away and I stand there in silence. When I finally get a hold of myself, the house is deathly still. Like my heart. Like my mind. It’s as if he’s taken all of my thoughts, my ability to think, to feel…with him. I pull off my ring and let it drop to the floor.
I retrace my steps up the corridor and to my room. I pick up phone and dial Penny’s number. She answers on the first ring. “Abby, thank god. How are you? Is everything okay? That video is crazy. It all looks so real, you know?”
“I know,” I say stiffly.
She pauses. “Abby, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not.” I swallow. “Can you come and get me?”
43
Cade
“I don’t care if my name is not on the list of approved guests, if you don’t let me through, I’m going to hand you your teeth and—"
“It’s okay, David, he’s with me.” Declan’s voice reaches me a few seconds before he steps between me and the security guard of his serviced apartment block.
I glare at the man who tried to stop me from entering the elevators. He steps back, then sniffs. “Sorry about that, Mr. Beauchamp. It’s just protocol.”
“I understand.” Declan claps him on his shoulder. “You were just doing your job.”
With a last scowl at me, David returns to the security desk.
“Seems I came just in time,” Declan murmurs as he slaps the button to call the elevator.
“A pity, and I’d been itching for a fight, too.” I roll my shoulders.
“Really, man? With the security guard?” He scowls at me.
I lower my chin to my chest. “Yeah, sorry, that wasn’t my finest moment, eh?”
“To say the least.” The elevator arrives and we ride up to the penthouse in silence. Once inside, he pours me a drink, then slides it across the breakfast counter. I wrap my fingers around the tumbler and stare into the depths of the whiskey.
“You alright?”
“Nope.” I continue to contemplate the dregs of the amber fluid.
“It have something to do with the very convincing performance you put up earlier today at your engagement announcement?”
“You saw that, huh?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but I raise my hand. “Forget I asked. Guess by now, everyone and their dog has seen it.”
“Their cats and goldfish, too; count in pet iguanas and snakes and—"
“—I get the picture.” I take a sip of the whiskey, and my stomach roils. I place the glass back on the counter with a thump. “Snakes can’t see very well you know.”
“Eh?” He blinks.
“Snakes—" I crack my neck. “They have poor eyesight, which is why they resort to sticking out their tongues all the time—to get a sense of their surroundings.”
“O-k-a-y?”
“That’s how pathetic I’ve become, huh?"