Marry Screw Kill(46)

Nina sighs into the phone. “I thought he was over this.”

“Over what?” I stand up and start pacing across the bedroom.

“He had fixations,” Nina whispers.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“There were two girls—one when he was in high school and another while he was at Harvard. He became overly attached to them. Obsessed, really. He felt they needed saving and decided he was their savior, whether they wanted or needed his help. He basically smothered them with his attention. He was out of control and I couldn’t reason with him. No one could.”

“Damn. What about the years since? How did he stop?” Or did he?

“We found help for him with one of the best therapists in New York City. As far as I know, he hasn’t had a problem since. Are you sure about this, Sinclair?” Her question is filled with worry and a hopeful denial.

“Let me figure out a few things, but I don’t like what I’ve seen so far. Harlow’s entire life stopped the day her mother was killed. I don’t think she’s recovered from her death and James controls her every move. You mentioned he smothered the other girls and wanted to save them. I see the same scenario unfolding here. Plus, I think Harlow is starting to break under the strain of it all. He pretty much has her locked up inside his estate. It’s no way for anyone to live.”

“I thought going into medicine and saving people would give him an outlet for his issues.”

“He’s not fixing Harlow. He’s killing the best part of her. If she stays here and marries him, she will become his version of her.” I tighten my grip on the phone.

“Do you need me to come to Rochester?” Nina asks.

“Not now, but tell me about the others. The one from college? How did that end?”

“With a threat of a restraining order. The young woman dropped out of Harvard in fear of James’ obsession. James agreed to three months of inpatient counseling during the summer of that year. After all these years and no other incidents, I thought he was cured.”

I hate to say what I’m thinking to my grandmother, because it will dash any hope she has that her son overcame his obsessive behavior, but she needs to know what I’m seeing on the ground, and the picture isn’t pretty. It’s f*cked up and twisted.

“I believe he found someone vulnerable he could control and make his own little toy.” Nina has to be cringing on the other end. It’s a harsh word, but I believe it fits. She’s his toy—a beautiful, blond doll he possesses. “She has no one now that her mother is gone. No family at all.”

“Do what you can to help this poor young woman. I’ll deal with James later. She needs to break off the marriage and leave him.”

Nina’s command makes my purpose in Rochester crystal clear. Screw the clerkship. I am really here to free Harlow from this house, just like I did in my dream.





Chapter Twenty


Harlow



James pulls his car up to the valet station at the country club. I apply one more layer of lipstick at his request. Once I meet his approval, I plaster on a fake smile to perform the task at hand: keeping him from suspecting I’m leaving him tomorrow. I glance down at the tennis bracelet on my wrist and bite back a laugh. Diamonds really are a girl’s best friend.

Today, I will smile and nod in approval like I always do; be his perfect little fiancée deferring to her better half. The valet opens my door and I swing my legs out. Taking James’ extended hand, I rise from my seat.

The show’s on … but I have a surprise.

“Oh, James …” I speak his name like he owns my next breath in hopes it will soften my next words, “when I saw Emma yesterday, I invited her to brunch. I forgot all about it until now.”

“What?” James stops and pulls my hand with a short tug. I glance up and see him gritting his teeth through a smile as fake as mine. “You plan on her sitting at our table?”

“Well, that would be the plan since I invited her. I wanted her to meet Sin.” The lie tumbles from my tongue.

“That’s a good idea. I guess it can’t hurt. She might give him a good time while he’s here.” James laughs at his slight of Emma.

I have to admit, the mention of Sin and Emma together, even if it never happens, gives me a heart-tugging sadness. I wish I could take back my words, but they seem to have appeased James.

“Emma is my best friend. I want you to get to know her better.”

“I think I know her type very well,” he says. I am under no illusion that James played the field before me. If I’m being honest with myself, I wonder if he still might. That perfume on his shirt last night comes to my mind. I have seen nurses batting their lashes at him; even the wives of some of the other doctors on staff seem interested in him … or what’s in his pants.

Today, my lying rivals the best con man alive, and I’ve never been able to lie to anyone before with any success. My mother used to tell me she never had to worry that I was hiding anything from her. Today, however, I’m working on desperation, and there will be many more lies slipping from my tongue before I leave James tomorrow. Rationalizing my deceit comes easy. Each lie will get me farther away from him.

James and I are standing under the outside portico when I notice Sin leaving the parking lot. Sin parked his borrowed car instead of using the valet, something James would never do. I still can’t believe he let Sin drive “his baby.” I am forbidden to even get behind the wheel.