With my finger under her chin, I closed her mouth. I stroked her throat with my fingertips, waiting to feel the contraction of her muscles as she swallowed my seed. I then cupped the sides of her head and pulled her face down to meet my gaze. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused.
I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then whispered against her temple, “Enjoy prison...babygirl.”
At her outraged cry, I rose and signaled to the police officers I was ready for them.
They finished handcuffing Madison and dragged her through the shop door to their waiting car. The entire way she screamed, “I hate you! You won’t get away with this! Someone will listen to me. Someone will care!”
The warmth left with her. In the silence, I could hear the rapid beating of my heart. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I closed my eyes and savored the lingering earthy vanilla scent of her hair.
It didn’t matter.
None of this mattered.
The only thing that mattered was protecting the Worthington name and my plans for revenge.
Crossing to the exit, I reached into my suit jacket and pulled free a linen handkerchief and swiped it across my lips.
Bright pink lipstick stained the white fabric.
I raised my arm to toss it in the garbage but paused.
Refusing to contemplate my reasons, I folded the linen square and returned it to my inner pocket while taking one last look around.
A bakery box sat on the counter. I flipped open the lid.
Selecting one of the still-warm croissants, I bit into it, enjoying the sweet-tart filling which tasted just like Madison’s kiss.
CHAPTER 6
MADISON
“Docket Number CR26246014-01, the People of the State of Virginia versus Madison Hastings. Charge is murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree and vehicular involuntary manslaughter.”
I was shaking so hard I could barely hear the words. I couldn’t stop rubbing my wrists where the metal handcuffs cut into my skin. Lesson number one after getting arrested—absolutely no one gave a damn if your handcuffs were shackled too tight.
Noise and movement surrounded me.
I so badly wanted to curl up in a ball under my bedcovers and process what was happening to me, but couldn’t. From the moment the police shoved me onto the hard plastic seat in the back of the police cruiser everything around me had been cold, loud, and unforgiving.
A constant, frenetic clamor surrounded me—shouting people, slamming doors, and ringing cell phones competed with the wail of sirens and the metal clacking of shackles as prisoners were brought in. All compounded by the judge pounding his gavel and the court clerk calling out an endless stream of cases.
I just wanted to cover my ears and start screaming and never stop.
I thought my dreams of the accident were my nightmare, but I was wrong.
This right now was my nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up.
The judge adjusted his glasses and picked up the file laying in front of him. “You’ve certainly been busy for one so young, Miss Hastings.”
I shook my head. “I’m innocent,” I shouted, trying to be heard over the din, blinking back frustrated tears. “I wasn’t driving the car. It wasn’t me. This is wrong! I shouldn’t be here! Please, you have to let me go!”
The judge pounded the gavel. “Young lady, you will not address this Court. You will speak only when spoken to and leave the talking to your lawyer.” He stretched his neck out and surveyed the crowd. “Where is your lawyer?”
I pivoted and stared out over the public gallery as if a friendly face in a suit would materialize and claim to be my attorney. “I...I...don’t have one, Your Honor. I just got arrested. I don’t know what’s going on. I just opened a new business. I can’t afford an attorney.”
The judge huffed. “Kids today. Don’t even know their basic rights.” He leaned forward and stared at me from over his reading glasses. “Everyone is entitled to an attorney. Didn’t you listen to the Miranda rights when they were being read to you? Gail. Gail? Gail!”
The court clerk hurried toward him. “Here, Your Honor.”
