whiff of Mackenzie. She’s gone, but her scent is still here, lingering.
She thinks she can run away so easily. She’s mistaken.
My heart tightens painfully with each step I take away from him. I got what I came here for. A semblance of the truth. He didn’t do it. That’s all I needed to know. I can go back to New York, wait for the shit to hit the fan, and hope the rest of the guys will be convicted of something. And Baz…well, he can burn in hell for all I care.
I lied in there. Through my teeth.
Seeing Mia step into his office, with her model-like body, creamy skin, luxurious hair, and that sweet little smile that I wanted to wipe off her face was a blow to the chest. I wanted to show her how ugly the world could be.
I was jealous. Plain and simple. I couldn’t see someone as beautiful as her working for Baz, without getting perks on the side. She is too beautiful of a woman, and Baz is too handsome of a man for their relationship to ever remain strictly professional.
Is he fucking her?
Does he call her Dirty Girl, too?
God. I hate that I even care. If that is who he is, I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even waste my breath on him. But no matter how hard I try to forget him and erase him from my mind, I can’t wipe him from me. He is in my blood, every part of him coursing through my veins.
Obviously, the idea of him going to a gala while pretending nothing is wrong in his life is what bothers me. Does he miss me at all, or think about me half as much as I think about him? What I am most worried about is that when he is going to be out with her, if he’ll think of me at all, or have I fallen so far, I’m not even a passing thought in his mind?
I want him to think about me. I want him to go crazy with his thoughts. Feel the same way I do.
I’m selfish and crazy for feeling this way, for wanting him to hurt. I want him to miss me so much it’s hard for him to breathe, just as it is for me.
I want him to feel his heart shatter into a million irreparable pieces because I’m out of his life. Because that’s what happened to me. I thought I could handle seeing him again, but I was wrong. I’m barely functioning at this point. My only hope, the only thing I have to look forward to, is justice. But I worry after hearing that he can’t get ahold of Vincent that they’ve run.
I’ve come too far to let that happen, and even though I said I was going back home to move on and absolve Baz of the past, I can’t do that until they’re dead.
I do something I haven’t done in months. Something that brings me great shame, but I still find myself hiding out in my room, lights blacked out, laptop open, as I scroll through the Google alerts I have for Baz’s name.
It’s the night of the gala, and though I’ve held myself off and tried to keep busy, here I am anyway, stalking him and his date—or his assistant, whatever the hell she is to him. I hate how good he looks in another tux. With his hair slicked back, a rogue long strand hanging in front of his face, like that of a rugged movie star. He looks perfect. And I hate how my heart starts beating faster and harder the longer I stare at him.
His date, Mia, as much as I want to say she looks like a troll, she doesn’t. In fact, she looks flawless, dressed in a fitted white gown that makes her chocolate hair stand out against her pale skin. There’s one picture that was snapped in particular that has my stomach souring. It’s Baz standing for a photo on the red carpet, that bored, aloof look on his face, and Mia staring up at him with awe written all over her face.
She likes him. And how could she not?
A searing ache tears down the center of my chest the longer I stare at the photographs of them together.
I can’t help but wonder what they’re talking about. Is his hand holding hers? Or will they do that later, out of the public eye?
I wonder if—
The light in my room flips