But I don’t make it that far, because a text message has come through, from an unknown number, with the country code +33. A French number.
It’s a link to Google Maps, with the red drop pin placed on a little square off Montmartre. The text is brief and to the point.
Please come
“Hey, listen,” Amir says, his mouth on my neck. “The night isn’t over yet and we could—”
I push him away, harsher than I intended. “I can’t.”
His forehead creases in surprise. “I thought we were having fun.”
It could be a trap. I stole her money, her wallet. I broke into their hotel room. But it doesn’t matter, because there’s only one thing I can do.
“Yeah, well, the fun’s over,” I say.
I shuffle across the seat and get up. Then, without looking back, I walk away.
Chapter 25
Olivier
Now
I wait until Cassie is dead asleep to leave the room. Well, not dead, exactly. Not yet anyway. I was so close. The plan was working. Thepillswere working. Poor Cassie.
It was all going so perfectly until I’d walked into the room. I thought I was having the worst nightmare of my life and a heart attack all in one. I didn’t mean to hit her. Technically, Ididn’thit her. I grabbed her and pulled her back so she wouldn’t take one more step into the bathroom. She’d been stunned—no shit, me too—and flailed her arms about, trying to get out of my headlock. That’s when I tripped backward, and when she hit her head against the edge of the bed.
Now, over an hour later, I’m still shaking as I wander the streets of Paris. I should be back in the room with Cassie. That’s what a husband would do.
What the fuck is she doing in Paris? For a while I just walk around, trying to wrap my head around it. And now, as I arrive at the edge of the little square in Montmartre, I’m so scared out of my mind that I can barely remember to breathe.
It could be a trap. There might be cops waiting for me. But what proof would they have? I was careful. The sleeping pills Cassie took,sheboughtthem. Took them willingly. Not the ones I slipped in the bottle of wine, obviously, but no one saw me crush them and drop the powder in. Plus, I pulled Cassie out of the bath when she was about to drown. I made her vomit it all. Isavedher. Though, of course, I’d rather not get into that with the police.
I check that the coast is clear, no one left or right, before jumping the short fence to the park. The tree leaves rustle loudly in the wind and my heart is racing, my palms sweaty. It feels like summer is over. I sit down on a bench far away enough from the street. The metal feels cold against my back. Cassie tried to fight me when I got her out, soaking my shirt through.
The sound of twigs being crushed on the ground startles me. Footsteps. The shape of a woman comes out of the night’s shadow, haloed by a lamppost on the edge of the park.
“Reese!” I say, jumping to my feet. “You came.” My voice trembles.
Reese stands there, arms idly by her side. I can’t quite make out her face in the darkness, but her chest rises and falls in rapid movements.
“Are you okay?” I add. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“Whatdidhappen?” Her tone is incredulous, her voice a whisper.
This conversation, us even being here, is beyond incomprehensible. We have so much to talk about and so little time. “I protected you. That’s what happened. Why are you here?”
“I hated you so much.”
She sits on the other end of the bench, where I can see her better. There are tear streaks down her face. Her red lipstick is smudged all the way to her chin. Her hair is wild, like it used to be after we had sex.
“I know,” I say. Of course she’d hate me.
“You lied.” Her voice rises in the night. “You lied and you left me.”
It kills me, not to touch her. “I didn’t lie. I love you. I don’t think you ever believed me, but I do.”
I shuffle over to her. She flinches when I reach for her hand but lets metake it anyway. It’s soft and warm, just like I remember it. It was only a little over a week ago that I last touched her.
