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Tommy was dead. Dead and gone. Forever.
Cameron had sent through an article to Maeve, which had confirmed that Tommy had been named as the killer in a string of deaths, including the man that Mac had disposed of, and even his own agent. The papers were making puns about his band name - The Gilded Knife - and him being a killer, and I had a moment of pity for the other members of his band. It seemed they were blaming drugs for his altered mental state.
Relief swept through me as I realised the police weren’t going to come and knock down my door and drag me to prison for killing my ex. It had taken time for me to reconcile that I wasn’t the same as him, and that Mac wasn’t either. We’d killed because we had to, and because Tommy deserved it, and the weight that had been threatening to bury me lightened.
I smiled as I lounged in the sun, watching Grace posing and snapping selfies by the pool. My mum sat down on the lounger next to me and passed me a sweet, red cocktail over flowing with umbrellas and other brightly coloured decor.
‘Wow, that’s quite something,’ I said after taking a sip.
‘Yeah, I think the barman has a thing for you.’
‘Oh shush, I’m not looking for anything like that.’
‘A holiday palette cleanser could be exactly what you need. Something fun and easy.’
As good as fun and easy sounded, rolling around with a man was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to have silly, uncomplicated sex. I wanted to be worshipped and to worship. To delve into the dark side and then be ushered back out of it with secure arms and tender words. I wanted to be forced to my knees and made to scream his name.
Mac’s name.
Because with each passing day, I was more resolute in needing him like he needed me. In wanting to spend my days with my family, and my nights wrapped up with him.
Without the masks and the distance. Without the gloves between his skin and mine. Just him and me, figuring out a way to make our lives work together in the dark and in the light.
I closed my eyes and let the sun’s rays wash over me, warming all the cold, hard parts that Tommy had created over the months I’d spent trying to pacify him.
I’d spent too much of my past cowering, and I was done with it.
The future would be bright.
I’d make sure of it.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
MAC
The door buzzed in the distance as I lay on the couch, flicking through endless channels of bullshit on the TV. I waited for the doorman to answer it and cursed as it buzzed again.
Where was everyone?
I’d lived in the mansion my whole life and had never answered the bloody door.
When the buzzer went again, this time it holding for a ridiculously long time, I got up and threw the remote into the cushions before stomping toward the front hall.
I tore open the door, ready to swear at whatever delivery person had the nerve to keep their finger on the buzzer when my arse about fell off.
Katie stood on the doorstep, her red hair falling about her lightly tanned shoulders, and a dozen more freckles covering her nose. She fidgeted with a pizza box she as she blinked up at me.
‘Surprise,’ she said, her voice unsure as I gawped at her.
I couldn’t believe she was there, in the flesh. Her bruises were gone after the weeks she’d spent away from me, only the faintest of lines remaining along her lower lip. A lump jumped into my throat as I swallowed hard, trying to tame my thunderous pulse.
‘Katie,’ I said, lost for words.
She was a vision in a sweet, knee length dress and tan leather boots, a scarf wrapped around her neck and mirroring the autumnal hues that had swept the outside world.
She held out the pizza, offering it up to me with pink in her cheeks. ‘Sorry, it’s not much, but I didn’t know what else to bring.’
I took it from her before placing it down on the low wall next to the steps.
