Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ASHLEY

My alarm goes off at six-thirty. I wish it could say it woke me, but I barely slept and I'm staring at the ceiling when it shatters the silence. I'd escaped my mom's questions about my date with Zain by claiming a headache and going to bed, where I tossed and turned all night long.

I'm not looking forward to meeting him for breakfast, and I've spent all night trying to think of a way out of it and come up with nothing.

I signed a contract that gives him control of my life for fourteen months. I signed it without letting any kind of legal representation look it over.

Why? Why would I do something so stupid?

The answer is simple. Because so far everything he's said has been true. And I can't guarantee that his claim about my mom going to prison is false.

If he's as innocent as he claims, which I don't believe, that means it would be just as easy to convince people that my mom had something to do with the deaths. And there's no way she would survive being sent to prison. He's right about that. And I'm not going to be responsible for making that happen.

My alarm chimes again, and groaning, I roll out of bed. I need to take a shower, and maybe drink a gallon of coffee before he gets here. I want to have a clear head to deal with whatever else he plans to do.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror as I walk toward the door. My skin is pale, and there are dark circles under my eyes. There's no way anyone is going to believe I've fallen in love with the man I'm meeting and want to rush into marrying him after only a couple of days.

What have you done?

Maybe he'll have changed his mind this morning, and will listen to reason.

And maybe a dragon will fly past my window and lead me to his hoard of gold.

By eight o'clock, I'm showered, dressed, and standing outside the front door. I don't want him to knock, or come inside, or speak to my mom. As soon as I see the car coming along the road, I hurry down the steps and wait on the sidewalk.

The passenger window slides down when the car comes to a stop.

"Are you running away or waiting for me?" His dry tone irritates me.

He knows damn well I'm waiting for him, so instead of answering, I open the door and climb into the passenger seat.

"Good morning, Ashley." There's that tone in his voice again when he says my name. It makes my heart jump, and I don't like it .

"There's no one here to impress." I clip the seatbelt into place.

"Manners cost nothing."

"Says the man forcing me into a fake relationship."

"Revenge has nothing to do with manners."

"Is that all this is? Revenge?"

"If you haven't figured that out yet, you're not as bright as I was giving you credit for."

"Where are we going?" I ignore his comment.

"The Snack Shack on the waterfront."

A place that will get a lot of foot traffic as it's close to the beach.

The parking lot is already filling up by the time we arrive, and Zain finds a spot around the back. His hand rests against my back as we make our way to the entrance of the diner, and the heat from his palm burns through my T-shirt. It's a move that I'm quickly associating as his method of choice to keep me moving in the direction he wants me to.

Once inside, he directs me to a table near the windows. I slide onto the bench seat, while he sits opposite me. A server appears seconds later, coffee pot in hand.

"Can I get you guys something to drink?"

"Water for me. Coffee, cream, one sugar for her," Zain says before I can speak. "Can we also get pancakes with maple syrup and blueberries, and one of your breakfast specials?"

"Do you want hashbrowns or cubed potatoes with the special, honey?"

"Hashbrowns, please."

"You got it. "

I shouldn't be surprised that he knows how I take my coffee, but I am, and I need to know whether it was a guess or something else.

"What if I didn't want coffee?"

"What you want isn't important any longer. We've established that."

"How do you know I even like coffee?"

He snorts. "You need at least two cups of coffee before you make sense in the mornings. Once your day begins, you swap to tea or lemonade. In the evening, especially during winter months, you like to have a hot chocolate before bedtime." He arches an eyebrow. "How am I doing?"

"How do you know that?"

"I had someone go and interview the people you live with yesterday."

"What? "

His smile is little more than a slight twitch of his lips. "Using Truman instead of Trumont was clever. Close enough to your real name to make it easy to react to if you forgot you'd changed it. And different enough to make it harder to track. Anyone would think you were really trying to hide."

"What did they tell you?"

He doesn't reply, just sits there looking at me, that half-smile on his face. I take out my cell, and find Karla's number. Zain says nothing. Doesn't ask who I'm calling, doesn't tell me to stop. Just sits there, watching me.

"What? Oh my god, why are you calling so early?" Karla's voice is sleepy and slurred .

"It's me."

"Oh! Ashley? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Did you speak to someone about me yesterday?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I'd remember if someone asked me about you. Why?"

I sigh, and I swear Zain's smile grows wider.

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you okay?" She repeats her question.

"Yeah. It's … complicated. I'll call you later and explain." I cut the call before she can say anything more. Unsurprisingly, a text comes through seconds later.

Karla: What's going on? Do you want us to drive to Whitstone and rescue you?

Me: No, it's fine. I promise. I'll call you later.

"No one spoke to them."

"I said I sent someone. I didn't say they were successful."

"Oh my god," I whisper. "You knew she was going to say no one spoke to her. And you still let me call? Why? Why would you do that?"