I hope she’ll forgive me. God, I hope they’re all wrong, and I hope she’ll forgive me.
I pull away from her reluctantly, my heart breaking at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. Her lip wobbles as I let her go and gently lead her back to the sofa.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
I turn my back to her. She calls my name, but I walk away.
The door shuts with finality behind me as I leave.
I hate myself.
I fucking hate what I’ve done.
I call Leith.
“Did you do it?”
“Aye.”
We’re silent as I slide into the car and we make the long drive to the airport.
“You alright?”
“No.”
Again, we don’t speak for long minutes. Finally, his voice sorrowful and hoarse, he says, “I’m sorry, Mac.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I did what I had to. I’m not sure she’ll take me back after this.”
“Christ.”
Another moment passes, until finally he speaks again. “It’s the only way we’ll know what she was up to. If she’s guilty, she’ll do something desperate. Might go to her father. If she’s innocent, she’ll leave here in a huff. She’ll forgive you when you explain yourself.”
“How do you fucking know that?”
My driver flinches, and I can hear Leith’s sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.
“Suppose I don’t.”
I run a hand across my brow and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m on my way to the airport now. She’s under supervision back at my house. I’ll call back after my meeting and report.”
“Aye. And Mac?”
“What?” I ask wearily.
“You’ll be paid well for this.”
“Thanks.”
Like I fucking care.
I hang up the mobile and shove it in my pocket. I scowl out at the night as we drive to the airport.
I don’t want the money.
I want her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
