I frowned. “How did you get that?”
“Danny.” Haze looked down at the table. “I saw him this morning. I was going to tell you, but then all the Bibi punching drama kicked off.”
I went up to the coffee machine. “You spent the morning with your ex. Sounds fabulous. Great. So great.” I struck the coffee portafilter three times against the knock box. Perhaps a little harder than was necessary.
“Shall I…?” Jenny half rose.
Haze pushed her back into her chair and stood up. “Baby, if I was going to cheat on you, it wouldn’t be with a tried-and-tested ex I’d already rejected. I’d go for someone new and exciting. Like, maybe the tattooed barista in that coffee shop. Or the football coach down at the kids’ club, or the—”
“Okay, stop!” Jesus, was there anyone she hadn’t considered nailing? I was a little, okay a lot, off my game, and she was eyeing up other men as I wasn’t not enough for her anymore?
Haze came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course. It’s him I don’t trust. Did he try anything?”
I felt it. The slightest loosening of her touch. “He wouldn’t dare.” She let go as I spun around, wanting to look her in the eye. But she was walking back to the table.
“I got nothing helpful from Balgray Hall’s computer system so the guest list has been a huge help.” Jenny looked at me. Ever the peacemaker. “I’ve checked all of the names and it’s clear something is going down at that party. A lot of recognizable names from the great and the good of Britain’s criminal underworld.”
It did sound like The Chameleon’s type of crowd.
“One name sticks out,” said Jenny. “Joe Jones. There’s nothing on him online, and the company he’s supposedly from is bogus. It could be The Chameleon, or someone else going by a fake name.”
Despite the unappetizing thought of Haze spending time with her smirking ex, there was no denying it felt like we were making progress.
“Even if it’s an alias, it’ll help us find him, right? It’s a clue of sorts. If we could just find him, we could confront him when he least expects it.” Haze was rubbing her hands together.
She was celebrating. I was sweating.
We were getting closer to finally coming face-to-face with the man who’d engineered my kidnapping and torture. Where was my excited rage at getting to wreak my revenge?
I pressed the button on the coffee machine and let the grindingsound drown out my heartbeat. It was hammering so loud I was sure Haze and Jenny could hear it.
Fearful, not fearsome. Frightened, not frightening. I was a broken weapon.
I wished I could be honest with Haze about how much the events in Italy last year had changed me. I wished I could let myself be vulnerable with her.
I knew she loved me. But I also knew that she’d fallen in love with me when I was her equal. A love match. A kill match. We were together, flying high. The elite. If she started seeing me differently, if she started treating me differently, that would break me in a whole new way—and not one I thought I could ever come back from.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Haze
Tonight, I was facing aninescapable torture. An evening with Frederica and her friends planning the school play after-party. Frederica had somehow tracked down my carefully protected phone number and demanded my attendance at a wine bar in town. I had felt guilted into going only because I didn’t want to ever be accused of letting Bibi down in any way—and really, when you factored in all I’d already sacrificed for my children, you might as well add “night out with a bunch of women I didn’t know” to the list.
I scanned my wardrobe. What did I want to present as? What outfit said what I didn’t want to have to say out loud? If Frederica opted for leather trousers when she was picking up her kid from school, I presumed her eveningwear would be even more over the top. Fuck it. I hadn’t had a night out in ages. Who cared if it was with a bunch of mums, in a naff wine bar to talk about how many bags of Kettle Chips to buy. I had clothes that deserved to be worn. I settled on a pale blue Stella McCartney jumpsuit and chunky heels. If I was going to be bored shitless, I could at least do it looking fabulous.
I stomped downstairs to the kitchen.
“Whoa! Look at you! We got plans tonight?” A sweaty Fox was in his gym kit, glugging a large glass of water.
“No, it’s a school thing. With some of the other mums.”
Fox gave me another once-over. “Really? Not a secret date with another man?”
I let the question hang in the air for a second as Fox’s grin grew more and more fixed. He was trying, but the whole Danny thing had clearly knocked him.
“Are you going to be okay with Reggie?”
