He closed in, encircling her wrist, calmer than before. “It’s now or never, Val.”
But she was stronger. She flung the door open. “Well, then. Never.”
She returned to her sitting room and poured herself a drink. When she heard the door slam shut, she collapsed onto the sofa, hurled the tumbler at the wall, and screamed.
Dane drove recklessly through the subdivision, slowing only for the speed bumps. A slight rain had left the roads slick, and he skidded to a stop in front of Noelle’s house. One tire bounced over the curb. He left the car running as he sprinted to her front door. He rang the bell, then began knocking. When she didn’t answer, he called her name. He ran to the back door and tried peering through windows. She hadn’t come home yet.
Or she’d left.
He pulled out his phone and sat down on the front stoop to start typing a text message, but the rain made the screen unresponsive to his touch. He got up and sat in his car. Water flooded down the windshield turning the world outside into a smudge.
Please call.
He laid his head on the steering wheel, waiting and hoping. Had she already seen the text? He just needed to find her to explain. He looked at his black phone and accepted that she wasn’t responding. Her phone could be off. Maybe she went to the movies. A laugh erupted from his throat, and it hurt his chest. He sounded like a lunatic even to himself.
He drove quickly to his own townhouse on the wild hope she might be there. A car sat out front, but it wasn’t Noelle’s. As Dane slowed down, Anthony stepped out. Dane parked in his driveway and got out of his car, watching the younger man cut across the grass to face him.
“Anthony?”
Anthony kept walking until he was a foot away, then drew his arm back. A split second before the fist landed in his face, Dane dodged and came up behind Anthony. He caught his arms up under Anthony’s elbows from behind.
“Whoa, there. What’s this all about?”
“You were the man Selena was seeing.” Anthony cried out through tears, “You lied to me. I trusted you.”
Dane looked up to the heavens for patience. “You’re not actually going to fight me, are you?”
“Val showed me pictures. You were with Selena the whole time you knew I wanted to be with her.” He slumped and began to sob.
Dane sighed and pulled out his phone, scrolling. “And who were you with when you knew you wanted to be with Selena?” He held up the screen to show Anthony the pictures he’d had Morty take earlier in the week. Anthony and Val walked hand in hand from her car into her house.
“You had me followed?”
“I had Val followed.”
“But why?”
“I know you don’t want to believe it, but Selena came to me. I didn’t seduce her against her will. Can you say the same about Val with you?” Anthony shook his head. “And do you know who pushed Selena into my path?”
Anthony’s eyes jerked up. “Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s not who you think she is.” Dane pushed the phone into Anthony’s hand. “Here, take my phone. There are pictures and emails and recordings on here you can use. And I recorded my last conversations with Val today. There’s enough here to get an investigation started.”
“How?”
“Get it to Rosamund. She can take it from there.” Anything that implicated Val would take him down, too. But she’d never expect him to self-detonate. “Look in my sent emails. The last one I wrote might interest you.”
The evidence on his phone would finish the job of destroying him in Noelle’s eyes, but there was no other option open to him. Noelle was always going to the cost of his last move. If he wanted to best the queen, he had to make his one shot count. He’d sacrifice every piece on the board—himself included. Hell, he was prepared to die to take Val out once and for all. At least death would mean freedom.
And even so, this might not even work.
Anthony stared blank at the phone. “What are you planning to do?” The color had drained from his face. He looked up, eyebrows furrowed. “Dane?”
Dane patted Anthony’s shoulder, said, “Good luck, kid,” and turned toward his front door. When he got the key in the lock, Anthony called after him. Dane closed the door, locked it, and poured himself a glass of bourbon.
The cold irony was that he could never be worthy of someone like Noelle until he exposed all the truths that would make her despise him. Val was right: She'd never want to speak to him again once his treachery was laid plain.
He’d swallowed half the glass when Anthony began knocking on his door. “Dane?”Knock knock!“Are you okay? Dane?”
