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My mouth contorted into a snarl. “That’s what you wanted, and you would have gotten your way had Edward not given me the USB stick.”
He sat back against the seat, gaping at me before his brows pulled together. “What USB stick?”
I scoffed. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I swear on my life, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He raised a hand, placing it across his heart. “What USB? And when did Edward give it to you?”
A little voice in my head screamed at me to stop talking to him, to not engage in his lies, but my mouth had other ideas. “Stop lying, Jacob. Just stop. You know Edward gave it to me on the morning after our wedding party. And you know exactly what was on it.”
Color drained from Jacob’s face, his mouth opening and closing several times before he finally spoke. “Charlotte.” He paused, taking a second as if whatever he was about to say was going to be painful. “Edward died the night of our wedding party. You know this.”
My heart plummeted to my stomach, my jaw opening. “Wh…what?”
His lips pursed into a thin line, a hint of sadness creeping over his face. “Angel, he had a heart attack. After he saw us…you know, in the garden, he left the party and went home. His cleaner found him early the next morning; he died in his sleep.
“That’s not possible,” I said, confusion riddling my voice. “He came to our hotel room when you went to see your father in the reception.”
“Angel, my father came to the hotel to tell me that Edward had passed away. I don’t know who you saw, but I assure you, it wasn’t Edward. If you need me to prove it, I can show you his death certificate.”
It was my turn to gape at Jacob, my head spinning as confusion settled into the marrow of my bones. “But…but, the USB, he gave it to me.”
Jacob grasped my hand, and I was too stunned to do anything but let him hold it and caress the back of it. “What was on this USB stick?”
I blinked at him, everything I’d discovered about Amy’s death churning over, but how was that possible if Edward was dead?
“Proof,” I whispered, suddenly not as confident in the memories I’d been reliving.
“Proof of what?”
Swallowing, I met his eyes. “Proof that you killed Amy. It…it was a report from an investigator. You drugged her and had sex with her. And then you chased her off the road in your car.”
He released my hand and jumped to his feet as if he’d just been electrocuted. For several heartbeats, he could only stare at me as if he didn’t know who I was.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he placed his hands on his hips, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I…I don’t know what to say.” Guilt hit me again at hearing the devastation in his tone, and when he met my gaze again, tears shone in his eyes. “I don’t know what more I can do to convince you that I had nothing to do with her death. Maybe you need to talk to the therapist I spoke to for months after, who helped me come to terms with what happened?” He shook his head again before brushing away a tear. “Angel, Amy was my best friend. My only friend. I would never have hurt her.”
A lump clogged my throat at seeing the anguish written all over his face, and my confused mind didn’t know what to say. The information I had seen on the USB seemed so real; it played in my head, vivid as the hospital room I was in.
But if Edward had died, then how was the USB even real?
“What else?” Jacob said, snapping me out of my muddled thoughts. “What else do you think I’ve done?”
The urge to shove my fist into my mouth to stop me from speaking consumed me, yet the images of everything I thought had happened continued to rotate in my brain until it landed on one. “You…you had my blood-stained wedding dress hanging in your office. You said it reminded you of the night you ripped into my innocence.”
Had he actually said that, though? I couldn’t be sure. I remembered seeing it hanging there, and I had drawn the conclusion that was the reason he still had it, but had Jacob confirmed that? I couldn’t remember.
A tear leaked from his eye, which he didn’t bother wiping. “Your wedding dress was sent to the cleaners after our wedding. It’s stored in a box in the attic at home.”
Huh?
No. It couldn’t be; I saw it myself, hanging on a hook with the blood on full display. And yet, Jacob held my gaze with nothing but sincerity written over his face.
His body slumped with a deep sigh, and he collapsed back in the chair next to me. “Anything else?”
There was, but I was beginning to think I couldn’t trust my memories. If Jacob was telling the truth, then I must have imagined everything. But the memories were crystal clear, vividly playing on a loop, telling me that I hadn’t imagined it, and that what I was accusing Jacob of really did happen.
“You had Jenson put into prison,” I blurted, clinging on to one last hope.
His brows lifted. “Jenson? As in your friend?”
