“The incident took place on New Year’s Eve.”
“Okay.” I’m still not seeing the big issue.
“She was at a party.”
“Right.” Like most prominent people on New Year’s Eve.
“In New York.”
“Because that’s where you lived. Still not seeing the reason you are squeezing the steering wheel like you want to strangle it.”
“She was at the DA’s house on New Year’s Eve.”
My jaw drops.Oh, fuck.“Her name?” I whisper.
“Gillian.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “And where were you?”
“Hours away in the bed of another woman.”
“So you have an alibi?”
“I can’t find her.”
“But I can attest to the fact she was at my party, and you were not.”
“Not happening.”
“Fox.”
“There will be another way.”
“No one goes against Gideon.”
“He hasn’t met me.” His chest expands as he releases a deep sigh. “The problem is I believe she was raped—just not by me. I don’t know if she’s being manipulated or if she’s lying.”
“What’s your gut instinct?”
“That she was raped, possibly drugged, and ultimately feda load of bullshit to cover up what happened. If you can convince the victim of a false truth, then you are fucked.”
“Have you tried reaching out to her?”
He shakes his head. “That’s a big no-no.” That’s fair. It might be seen as intimidating the victim. “I believe whatever happened took place at Gideon’s house.” He raises a brow at me.
I press my lips together. “Gideon is a lot of things—a lot of horrible things—but only to me. He didn’t stray.”
“You’re sure?”
“He is capable of, and has committed rape. Many times. But I am sure they were centered and focused on me. He wouldn’t risk the scandal for a start. But it’s more than that—he has an obsession, one that developed over time. I don’t think he was this way before he met me.” Which brings us full circle to the fact that something inside him must be warped.
“If you don’t stop blaming yourself, I will stop this car and spank your ass over the hood before fucking you senseless to remind you how fucking perfect you are.”
A chuckle escapes me, and I’m half tempted to push him so he makes good on his threat. Heat coils in my belly. I’m so utterly gone for this man.
We make it another few miles before his phone lights up. He presses the button on the steering wheel, accepting the call from someone named H. “No tails. You are a free bird now.”
“Thanks, Hunter.”
