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“I’m fine,” I answered, squirming out of his hold. I shifted a quick glance at Julian, who sat on the arm of the couch. His hard stare pierced through my skin, swirling a mix of hope and fury in my stomach at the jealousy in his eyes. I didn’t want him to think I wanted another man touching me, but hell…at least I finally got a reaction out of him. Up until now, he’d treated me like a bad habit he’d decided to kick.
Everson closed the curtains. “No one should go near the windows. Don’t give those assholes what they want.”
Everything quieted for the rest of the afternoon. We all took turns staring at each other while FBI agents shifted papers around, made calls, hooked up more wires, and went in and out of the house. The police returned one by one from setting up more road blocks, sweeping hotels, and knocking on random doors.
Everyone had been looking for the female who impersonated Faith. With nothing to go on, local detectives had even taken to investigating Faith. For once, I’d come alive, jumping to her defense. I pleaded with them to leave her alone. I knew Faith like a sister. They were wasting time and resources. Plus, I knew what the publicity could do to her business. Serving as the CEO of a public relations firm, bad press could ruin her.
I’d looked around the room for help, some sort of backup.
Nothing. No one said shit. Especially Julian.
My own husband just stared at me. That was when I knew things were worse than I thought. The divide between us had widened. One false step and I’d fall to my death. I thought Julian would keep me from teetering off the edge of sanity. Instead, he nudged me toward it day by day.
I scanned the room for Zane. At least he’d stick up for Faith. But he was nowhere to be found either. Again, I stood as the lone wolf.
Until Zane came flying in the room from the back of the house cursing at the top of his lungs, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. He stomped to the front door, jerking it open to the protests of every badged uniform in the room.
“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” he yelled as he pushed through the flashes of cameras. No one in the room spoke. We barely breathed as we watched him fling open the driver’s side door of the red BMW sitting by the curb and drag out whoever sat behind the wheel. As they moved, I recognized the mane of blond waves trailing down her back. Taking off his t-shirt, he draped it over her head and barked obscenities as he pushed his way back into the house.
Kicking the door shut with his boot, he threw his phone and punched the door. “Goddamn assholes! Go fuck yourselves!” He tried to lead her out of the room, but I stopped them, placing my hand on her arm.
“Faith?” She stopped moving.
“Not now, Phoebe,” Zane growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and moving her forward. I stepped in front of them. Time was running out for Iris. I needed answers.
“Faith?” I asked again, this time with more force. “Talk to me.”
She let out a shuddered breath and pulled the t-shirt off her head. Tears stained her face, and I gasped as black and purple bruises glistened beneath them. Fist marks marred her beautiful face, around her eye, on both cheeks, and on her chin. She’d been brutally beaten.
“Shit!” I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know where to touch that wouldn’t hurt her. “Oh my god, what happened?”
“Mottola, that’s what happened,” Zane yelled, his eyes wild with hatred. “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker!”
I gingerly touched her hand. “Armando did this to you?” She nodded, a wave of tears somehow making it out of a crack in the swollen mass of her eyes. “Why?”
“The press ran a story on Mottola and Associates.” She tried to shrug, the motion causing her to wince in pain. “I went to confront my assistant. She admitted she found Penelope,” she turned to face the FBI agents, “that’s the intern, Penelope Hammond, in my desk drawer replacing my keys. She didn’t think much of it. Penelope made up some story about borrowing them to move my car.” She lowered her head as tremors shook her. “I didn’t know, Pheebs. I don’t do the hiring. Armando handles that. I had no reason to question her. I guess that’s when she made a copy of your key. I also found out she’d used a fake name, transcript…shit, a fake everything.”
I squeezed her hand, anger filling me as I forced myself to look at her face again. Snapshots of memories replaced her face. Me as a child. Me as a young girl. Me as a teenager. All of them looking in a mirror with the same face, ashamed at what I’d allowed to happen.
“What did he do, Faith?”
She bit her blood-caked lip. “He was so angry. He screamed about how I’d disgraced him and his name in Hollywood. He swore I’d ruined him.” She shifted her eyes to the floor.
Unleashing his anger, Zane shoved a finger toward the agents. “This ends now. No more investigating her, do you get me? You think she beat up her own face? Do you?”
Agent Young stood, his hands in front of him. “Mr. Tierney, let’s just all calm down…”
“Fuck calm!” Zane stalked forward and slapped his hands away. “You’ve been here for days. Jag’s baby is still missing, Phoebe’s two hours away from a padded room, and Mottola just used Faith as a goddamn punching bag. What the fuck are you people doing?” Cursing again, he wrapped his arms around Faith and guided her down the hall, slamming the door of the guest room.
For the next few hours, Julian and I paced, talking to everyone but each other. Jaxon tried to mediate but gave up after half an hour, joining his FBI friends at the makeshift office they’d created in the dining room.
Julian and I played a visual game of tug of war. I could feel his eyes on me, but once I turned to catch his stare, he’d look away. So, of course, I’d glare at him, soaking in every inch of his scowled but still gorgeous face. As much as I knew he hated me, the sight of him still made my heart race.
I miss him.
But, as soon as he turned my way, I became intensely engrossed in the drawstring on my cotton shorts. It was stupid, but the wall between us had hardened into an impenetrable force. I didn’t know if we could ever break through.
By nightfall, Zane took Faith to his house, Ryker called to say Eliza was on a flight to LAX, and all the agents went to hotels. Only Jaxon and Everson remained. Julian had gone into our bedroom hours ago, without a word to me. It hurt, but I tried not to let it show. To keep myself busy, I cleaned the disaster everyone left in the kitchen and living room, but by midnight, exhaustion won out over determination.
