Chapter 63

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

ZAIN

I don't know if it's the way she looks at me, the fiery spark in her eyes, the disdain in her voice, or the way she turns her back on me like I am nothing to fear. But whatever it is, it triggers something inside me that can't be denied.

I don't intend to kiss her, but after pulling her back around to face me, she is so close and looks so furious that I can't help myself.

It only lasts for a second … a minute … an hour … a day … a lifetime … before my brain catches up with what my body is doing.

What the fuck am I doing? Cupping her cheek like she is important, stroking her jaw, sampling her lips? Kissing her like she's a temptation that I can't resist.

Before she catches wind of the fact I'm shocked by my own behaviour, I turn my back on her and have to stop myself from fucking running away. I force myself to keep my pace steady, my back straight and walk back to where we left her mom.

I have to stop before I walk into the room, so I can adjust the rogue erection pressing against the front of my pants.

It's because I haven't been near a woman in years, that's all. I need to get laid. Once I do that, I won't think about how soft her lips are, how good she smells, or how she might taste.

Once I'm certain I have my body under control, I walk into the room. Esme Trumont is where we left her, sitting on the couch sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Are you going to hurt my daughter, Zain?"

She doesn't waste any time, and I feel an unwilling respect for her forwardness.

"Your daughter couldn't be hurt by a fucking out of control boulder. That woman is the most stubborn thing I've ever met in my life."

I'm not lying. Even with all my threats, she refuses to comply with my demands without a fight.

Esme laughs. "She's always been a force of nature. I think she forgot that for a while. If you're bringing that side out of her, then maybe you two exploring whatever is going on isn't such a bad thing after all."

I round the couch and sit on the opposite end. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think is going to happen to a young girl's nature when she walks in on the dead body of her brother and his girlfriend?" Her voice turns sad. "That, the days following it, and then your trial … she stopped being a child, and became a very serious young woman far too soon."

"Tell me about that."

"What do you want to know? "

"I heard that you always said you thought I was innocent. Why did you let her testify if you didn't believe her?"

She leans forward and sets her cup down on the coffee table, then turns slightly so she can look directly at me.

"I never said I didn't believe her, Zain. She completely believed what she was saying. She didn't, for a second, think she was lying. But there was something … call it a mother's intuition if you wish … there was something off with how she described what she saw. The words she used when she was questioned on the stand. It was almost as though she was reciting a story she'd been told. She never deviated from the same words."

"You think she was coached?" That matches what McFadden suggested when I told him about her interview.

"Many witnesses who are taking the stand are coached in advance. When Bryan got the call that she was at the police station, he said that they had her in an interview room."

"They did. I have the recording of her interview."

"Now how did you manage to get hold of that?" She waves a hand before I can answer. "I don't want to know."

"I can send you a copy if you want to see it."

She shakes her head. "No, I don't think I want to relive that evening."

"Ashley watched it this morning."

She looks over her shoulder at the door leading into the hallway. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to understand why she changed her story."

"Changed her story?" Esme frowns. "What do you mean? "

"The first part of the recording is her alone with the two detectives. She told them I wasn't holding the knife."

"She told them … Wait, they interviewed a minor without an adult?"

"That's why it wasn't allowed to be used in the trial. When your husband arrived and they restarted the interview, she'd changed her story to say I was holding the knife when she arrived. You didn't know?"

"Bryan never told me she was interviewed before he got there, no."

"She says she doesn't remember it happening."

"That's … odd."

I'm watching the older woman carefully, looking for any signs that she is already aware of the things I'm telling her. But her reaction appears to be one of genuine confusion and surprise, which I hate to admit gives some credence to Ashley's claim that my mom said it could have been a false memory.

I file away that bit of information to ask my mother about when we go back to the house.

"She was a little distressed when she watched the recording."

"What do you mean a little distressed?"

"She got it into her head to run away. It was obviously a fight or flight instinct, and in her panic she bolted. I had to follow her through the forest behind the house. She tripped and fell. Hit her head and scraped her knees."

Why am I telling her that? Mostly to see how she reacts. And also to lay the foundation of when Ashley comes back, just in case her mother spots the scrape on her head.

"She ran away? "

"It could have been triggered by the memory of that night." It wasn't, but it could have been. "Once I caught up with her, she calmed down and came back home with me."

Esme sighs. "Zain, I have to ask you … are you spending time with my daughter because you like her or because you want to hurt her?"

The question hangs between us.

The answer should be simple. It is simple. At least the one I'm supposed to respond with, anyway. I should tell her it's because I like her.

The truth is supposed to be because I want to hurt her.

Yet I hesitate … because now it's a combination of both, mixed in with a new plan which could hurt her in a whole other way.