Bang(49)

He has no idea that I’m the poison in his bones, making my home in his soul. I’ve crept under his skin, and he never suspected a thing other than everything I’ve wanted him to, but he’s made my life a hell, and payback is a wicked bitch that comes in the form of me. I’m the devil seeped within the cracks of him. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that I am what I am, and he’s fallen into the cobwebs of my lies like a fool. I guess I should love him for that, because when he least suspects it, he’s going to give me everything I’ve been seeking—vengeance.





“WOULD YOU MIND zipping me up?” I call out to Bennett from inside my closet.

I stand in front of my floor-length framed mirror that rests against one of the walls. The strapless black satin gown is adorned with a scattered crystal beaded bodice that fades down into the slim, silky black skirt that falls to the floor. When Bennett walks up from behind, his smile is wide when he catches the zipper and slowly drags it up the center of my back.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells me before dropping kisses along my bare shoulder.

“Bennett, that tickles,” I giggle as I shimmy away. I look at his reflection in the mirror as he laughs and then ask, “Can you help tie my sash?”

Looking down at the wide, burnt orange, satin sash that’s draped around my waist and down my hips, he shakes his head, holding the two ends and says, “What do I do with this?”

“For such a smart boy, you think you could manage a simple tie,” I tease. Giving a wink, I straighten my posture and instruct, “Just a loose knot. I’d like it to hang slack a little below my waist.”

As he works the fabric, my mind goes back to Declan. I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday, but I know he’ll be at the party tonight. He’s growing impatient with me, which is good, but just as before when Bennett and Declan were together, my nerves are heightened. I don’t mind if Bennett suspects that I might be having an affair, but to have him suspicious this early on could be fatal. I need to make sure that Bennett is none the wiser and to simply assume that through the time spent together planning this event, we have become nothing more than friends and that the only intimacy I crave is that of my husband.

“How’s that?” he asks as he steps away.

I turn and look over my shoulder at the back of my dress and smile. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He wraps his arms around me and draws me in close. He’s clad in his black tux and bowtie—classic Bennett. Looking into his eyes, I softly sigh and relax in his embrace, whispering, “I miss you.”

“You have me, honey. I’m right here.”

“For now. But I still miss you, like I can never get close enough to you for it to be enough,” I tell him, my words nothing but maladies for my liking.

“God, do you have any clue what that does to me?”

“Hmm . . . tell me.”

“If I tell you, I’m going to unknot that sash and peel this gown off of you.”

My smile grows, and he kisses the corner of my mouth, always careful not to smudge my lipgloss. We spend a few moments holding each other before we slip on our coats and head down to the car.

When we pull up to the hotel, Baldwin parks in front and Bennett grabs the box with my mask. He opens it and pulls out the black, laser-cut metal mask and says, “Where did you find this? It’s really unique.”

His comment catches me off guard because I assumed it was a gift from him, but then it dawns on me that the reason there was no card or note was because it’s from Declan.

“Oh,” I say, taking a second before lying, “I found it online and ordered it.”

“Come here,” he says as he leans in. Gently placing it on my face, he loops the ribbon behind my head and secures it in a bow.

I can’t believe Declan did this and never said anything. “Does it look okay?” I ask.

“You’re perfect.”

I hold out my hand for his mask—a golden etched mask with large contrasting burnt orange and deep red swirls of flame. When I have it tied in place, I softly press my lips to his.

“Let’s go,” he says. “I want everyone to see how beautiful you look tonight.”

Laughing at his words, I remark, “Arm candy?”

“You’re so much more than candy.”

He takes my hand as we walk in, fashionably late, to the already busy room. I stop for a moment to take everything in: the dark room is flanked with fire-burning rustic lanterns lining the walls, lavish orange and red flowers and greenery filling the tables, people dressed in their finest gowns and tuxes, and masks that reflect the theme—devils, harlequins, studded black leather, and of course my own black metal mask.

“I didn’t think you could top yourself, but this is amazing, honey,” Bennett tells me.

The room is busy with friends, my husband’s colleagues, waiters serving various drinks and hors d’oeuvres, the band playing, and people dancing and mingling.

“Shall we?” Bennett says as he leads me into the dark, fire-lit room.

It isn’t long before we are mixed in with the crowd and greeting our guests. I quickly snatch a flute of champagne off a silver tray. Taking a sip, I hear Jacqueline from behind me, “Nina, I’m impressed.”