Page 76 of No Control
“It’s not like that,” I sneer. “We’re just—”
“You’re just what?” She stands, her expression filled with anger. “Living in some delusion? You hired her to write a book for you? But did you really? I never would’ve given you it if I’d known you were going to do this!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I looked it up, Henry. All I had to do was search for missing people in her area, and bam! There’s her fiancé. You killed him, didn’t you? And then what? Used your connections to clean it up?”
My jaw tenses. “He was bad to her.”
“Oh, right,” she laughs manically, running her hands over her face. “Bad to her how? By existing?”
“He tried to hurt her,” I say blankly. I mean, I knew Cher wouldn’t swallow it easily, but I wasn’t expecting a blow up. “After they broke up.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “And when did they break up?”
“After we met.”
She groans, shaking her head and placing her palm against it. “I don’t even know what to say to you. Did you really want a book? Or did you just want her?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“No, Henry, I don’t think I do. Because for my entire life, I knew something was fucked in your head, but I didn’t realize you’d go to this length to get what you want—and the worst part is, it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” I argue with her. “She makes me feel like less of a monster, Cher. She makes me fucking feel. I didn’t force her to be with me.”
Her lips purse and eyes close. “I hope you didn’t. Our mother would be rolling in her grave if you did.”
That stings.
“She’d be rolling in her grave, anyway.”
Cher meets my eyes. “Yeah, but I think she knows we’re doing the best we can with the cards we were dealt.”
“I don’t know. Maybe had I not become—”
“You became what you had to,” Cher stops me, sighing. “And I’m sorry for saying you’re fucked in the head. We both are.”
“You’re not wrong. But also, for the duration of this, let’s not talk about her ex-fiancé.”
Cher gives me a warning look. “I can’t promise you that. If I find out she’s not here because she wants to be, I’ll have her on the next flight out. You don’t get to be God, Henry. That’s not how love works.”
“I don’t care how love works. I’m not in love,” I snap at her, my eyes flickering to the massive windows. “That ability died in me long ago.”
She presses her lips together in disapproval as I turn to leave, muttering something under her breath. I don’t stay to figure it out. The brief conversation has the wheels in my mind turning. I know it’s only a matter of time before Lydia puts the puzzle pieces together.
Which is why her phone is no longer working.
I had Jude take care of that for me—as well as limiting her internet usage, including controlling her email. And it’s a good thing with all the press about Mason. His family has gone off the rails, but thankfully, I’ve kept her safe from it all. I need to give her time to accept this life with me fully.
And then I can tell her the truth.
My stomach knots up as I open the bedroom door, my eyes landing on Lydia, lying there in the bed. Her eyes are closed, her breaths steady, and I linger there for a few beats, watching her. I still want to love her, but my wants are just that. Wants. Just because I desire something, doesn’t mean it comes to pass.
And I’m reminded of that as I strip down and climb into bed with Lydia. I pull her body into mine and wrap her up, burying my face in her hair and breathing her in. I have to handle telling her the truth so fucking delicately when the time is right—when I have the mess of the hit taken care of.
Because I really don’t know how to exist without her.
And I don’t even want to think about going down that road.
