Marry Screw Kill(66)

“Here are the rules.” I go quiet for a few moments, until his eyes look back up at me.

“One, you will never make contact of any kind with Harlow again. Not a phone call, email, letter. Most definitely not in person. You don’t exist in her world anymore. Agree?”

“I loved her, for what it’s worth,” James confesses as tears form in his eyes. “She was the best thing I’ve—”

“Stop! I’m not here to discuss Harlow or your feelings. Got it?” I couldn’t stomach any more of his lies or wallowing. “I need your answer or I call the attorney. Do you agree to never bother her again?”

“Yes,” James whispers.

“Louder,” I demand.

“Yes. You win. I’ll never see her again. Good enough?”

“That’ll work.” A slight smile breaks free, though I try to contain it. This rule means the most to me. I could almost walk out the door and be done with him here, but I promised Nina two more things.

“Two, you will take an immediate leave of absence for one year and enter a full time in-patient center. Nina will choose the place. She’s already on it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s career suicide. I’ll lose my position here for sure.” Fury seeps from James’ every pore.

“It will be the chance you have to take. The other choice will leave you likely stripped of your medical license for life.”

“Six months?” James pleads.

“What did I say about negotiating?”

“All right. All right.” James leans his elbows on the edge of his desk, then covers his face with his hands, like he is ashamed, and he should be. His behavior is reprehensible.

“Three, you will have ongoing weekly visits after your in-patient period is finished. Nina will receive weekly updates from your doctor visits.”

“So, I’m signing over my f*cking life to my mother?” James shakes his head and eyes me.

“You’re getting to keep the life you’ve been leading with who knows how many countless women a secret for now.”

To be honest, I have no faith he will follow either of these last two rules. The first one he better, or he will regret if for the rest of his life. I’ll make sure of that.

James’ lips form a tight line. I know these last two rules are a tough blow to his ego and the control he normally possesses. It’s like asking a junkie to give up his last fix.

“Fuck!” James yells before throwing a coffee cup against the wall behind me. Broken pieces of the cup crash to the ground.

The door to his office flings open and a woman enters. “James, darling, are you okay?” She stops dead in her tracks when she sees me staring at her. Her eyes glance back and forth between James and me. I’m assuming she’s a doctor by the white coat encompassing her frame. What I find telling is how she addresses James. Darling?

“I’m fine, Rose. Leave,” he nearly shouts. The poor woman scurries out the door, shutting it behind her.

“Another conquest? How could you cheat on Harlow?” I fist my hands at my sides and think of sweet, trusting Harlow. I close my eyes and count while taking a few breaths.

“You have no clue. I have tastes that Harlow doesn’t yet.”

“Enough. You’re a sick bastard. Nothing you say will make it right.”

Again, I pick up the receiver on his office phone, but this time, I hand it to James. “Who do you need to call to inform the hospital you need to take personal leave?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me? Now?” James cries out in total frustration. I smile back at him and nod.

“Now.”

He pushes a few keys on the phone and waits.

“Hi, Natalie. This is Dr. Elliott. May I speak with David? Sure, I’ll hold.” James taps his fingers on the desk as he waits, a nervous action so unlike his usual controlled demeanor. I love it.

“Put it on speaker phone,” I demand. “I want to hear each and every word.”





Chapter Twenty-Seven


Harlow



“So, let me get this straight,” Emma pauses and takes a sighing breath, “James knew you before your mother was killed and he’s had you watched every day for months?”

Emma sits on the bed next to me, shaking her head in disbelief as I tell her the still hard to fathom details of James’ stalking … even after I was living with him. That part of the story makes me wonder if I’ll ever quit looking over my shoulder. It’s like a slap in my face that has snapped me out of some deluded spell. My desperation served as my denial, but no more. My eyes are wide open now, thanks to Sin.

“Yes to everything. We found the clues in his downtown penthouse.” I point to the box with my name on it calling to me from its place on the desk.

For some reason—maybe fear—I haven’t opened it since Sin and I checked into the hotel. Now that Emma’s here, I’m ready to see what might be inside it … I think. She knows my history, my mother, and me. No one on this planet can fill those shoes right now. She’s the closest thing to family I have.

“Creepy,” Emma says, enunciating each syllable. “What’s inside?”

“After we found the documents from the private eye, I haven’t dug deeper, but I need to. I think I was waiting for you.” I reach out and grab her hand. She presses my fingers together with a gentle squeeze and gives me a reassuring smile, one that says she’s here for me, and I thank God for this fact. “I had this sickening feeling when I looked at the contents earlier.”