“I don’t—I mean I never had a relationship with her.”
I gasped, the sound of Zayne’s voice, more so his words chilling the blood in my veins. I pressed stop and stared at the recorder. “That’s not him,” I whispered. But I knew better. I’d recognize that deep, husky voice even if I were in a coma. Pulling in a deep breath, I hit play again.
“You weren’t married to her?”
“What the fuck? Are you fucking hard of hearing? I said I wasn’t married to her.”
A mixture of anger and annoyance laced Zayne’s voice. Was he upset for them suggesting he had a relationship with me?
“Did you know she’s the daughter of a crime boss, Gabriel?”
“Yes.”
“How did you meet Ria?”
“I was part of a task team sent in to recover stolen biochemical information that was being sold to the Russian Mafia. They were using Ria to pass on the information and I intercepted the tradeoff before it went down.”
“And you fell in love with her after that?”
“No. I wasn’t in love with her.”
There was a long pause before Zayne’s voice filled my ears once more and with it came the tears.
“I used her to get to her father.”
He didn’t? I sobbed.
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
“No, I didn’t know she was pregnant and it sure as fuck isn’t mine.”
Oh, my God. I slapped a hand to my mouth, the tears gushing down my cheeks now, my heart growing heavier with each second. What if I had been pregnant?
“What about Ishara?”
“I killed Ishara.”
No! He didn’t. I swallowed against the ache lining my throat, trying not to believe what I was hearing.
“Why?”
“She was in love with me.”
I winced, a vicious pain penetrating my heart.
“What about Ria’s parents? Why did you kill them?”
“Collateral damage. They knew too much.”
I stabbed the stop button and hurled the device across the room. It crashed into a wall, bits, and pieces of splintered hard plastic and two small batteries rained on the floor, taking my breath with. The pain in my chest intensified. I reached up and pressed a clenched fist into it, circulating to calm it down. It didn’t work. Slowly, I slid to the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest. Circling my legs, I rested my brow on my knees and bawled my eyes out. My body shook with uncontrollable sobs. How could Zayne be so callous? In all the time I’d been with him, he’d shown me such gentleness. Was it all an act?
Of course, it was. Hadn’t he used me the first time we met, to get to Rex? Why would this time be any different?
No matter how many times I swiped the tears with the back of my hand, they wouldn’t stop falling. I’d never cried this much before, not even at my mom’s funeral, perhaps I was combining the two aches and why the tears were so relentless. For so long, I’d been happy despite the overshadowing gloom of my father’s intention, yet in a space of a few weeks, I’d experienced the worst possible sadness a person could endure. I always thought that maybe somewhere along the way, my father would reconsider, and he did, only my life had been turned upside down within a few minutes by the one person I thought I’d love for the rest of my life.
After staring at the wooden floor for so long, my eyes cutting patterns over the grain, my mind empty, I stood and walked into the bathroom. Numb from the inside out, my movements mechanical, I ran a bath, not caring whether the water was hot or cold, tepid or scalding. Removing my clothes, I left the water to run and stepped into the bath. My skin unfeeling, my heart the weight of a thousand bricks, it helped lower my body to the ceramic floor. I stretched out, leaning my head back against the bath. My eyes closed, I allowed memories of Zayne, his touch, his kiss to gentle the ache of my soul for only a moment before the tormented cries of Harsh, Bhavna, and Ishara slammed into my head, snapping my eyes open and stunting my breathing.
Reaching for the lavender sponge, I ran it over my body, slowly at first. Then harder and faster. I scrubbed and scraped. Wanting to get rid of his touch, I could still feel. I burned and chafed. Wanting to get rid of his scent, I could still smell. Through the tears, I rubbed and scratched. My flesh tender, hurting. Still, I needed to get rid of him, to wipe every trace of his existence. But the memories wouldn’t let go. I cried harder until my chest constricted with the need for air. Hurling the sponge, I covered my face and sobbed into my hands.
