“I am sad. But for the first time in my life, I’m also free.”
I furrowed my brow.
“Enough talk. I’m thirsty.” His eyebrow arched.
I was thirsty too. My palate salivated at the thought of swallowing him whole.
* * *
A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED, and it had been such a blissful period for both of us. He slept in my arms every night, as quiet as a baby.
Blake mentioned the journal and then handed it to me. “Here, it’s all there.”
“You’re entrusting me with this?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You’re in my life, Penny.”
Blake had taken to calling me that, and we’d entered a new phase in our relationship.
“I’ve still got a few issues to deal with, though.”
“Have you spoken to James?” I asked.
“No. I’ve been too busy organizing Milly’s funeral. She asked that her ashes be scattered at Raven Abbey in the forest, where her son’s ashes were released. Would you like to come?”
I grew as excited as a child would be at the suggestion of visiting Disneyland. “I would love to—very much. I’ve never visited the moors.” My mood flipped from that of joy to curiosity. “What happened to the candlestick?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know.” His eyes reverted to a darker shade of blue.
41
* * *
BLAKE
“WHY HAVE YOU BEEN avoiding me, James?” I nodded at the waiter, who set down our drinks.
To get James to meet me, I’d virtually blackmailed him by threatening to tell his parents about Lilly.
“I’ve been caught up in a few things.”
“How do you know Dylan Fox?”
James toyed with his glass. “From a few years back. He used to host these island parties.”
“Island parties? By that you mean, sex parties?” I asked.
That little mischievous sparkle was missing. I’d never encountered James looking so serious. “Yep.” He looked down at his hands.
“Did you lure me to the Cherry Orchard for a specific reason?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Oh, come on, James. No more games. I’m being set up by Fox, and you’re right in the middle of it. You were spotted looking all chummy with Fox at the ball. It’s pretty easy to join the dots.”
He took a deep breath. “What’s he got on you?”
“Some doctored images of me with a disturbingly underage Serbian girl named Tatiana.”
“Tatiana?” He looked surprised.
“You know her?” I asked.
He moved his shoulders as though to release tension.
I leaned forward. “Just fucking tell me.”
His hesitation tested my patience. James knew what I was capable of. I’d had my share of punch-ups at college, often protecting him from those belittling initiations that wealthy boys overdosing on testosterone inflicted.
“I fucked her.”
“Tatiana?”
“But not when she was underage,” he said. “Only about a year ago.”
“What, at the ripe old age of sixteen?” I didn’t hide my sarcasm.
His chest deflated. “He’s blackmailing me. I had to lead you to him. It was either your head or mine. Sorry, old man.”
“Don’t give me that fucking ‘old man’ shit. I want the whole fucking story. What’s he got on you?” I gulped down the whisky and lifted my chin to waiter.
When he arrived, I said, “Leave the bottle.”
“Of course, sir. More ice?”
I shook my head. Once he was out of earshot, I leaned over and said, “I’m waiting.”
I topped up his empty glass.
“The island parties involved virgins, some of whom were underage.”
I frowned at him. “Shit.”
He lifted his hands in defense. “Hey. I had no idea. She told me she was eighteen. And she fucking looked it.”
I took a deep breath. “How old?”
He bit his lip. “Fifteen.”
“You’re fucking kidding. And now he’s got that on you. But wouldn’t that incriminate him for organizing those grubby events?”
“No. He’s under radar. He’s a sly prick.”
“He’s got proof of you with a minor, and he’s blackmailing you to get at me. Anything else?”
He shook his head. “It was just to invite you to the Cherry Orchard.”
“Which is where photos of me were taken.” I sighed. “Who’s his front?”
“No idea. I just went along to the island. Rupert invited me during a card session. He just told me that there would be some young, sexy girls. Not underage, though. I even asked that. They were kind of borderline. You know, that spectrum of thirteen to twenty.”
“Fuck. Thirteen?” I shook my head in disgust. “You didn’t, did you?”
“No fucking way. I was with Cristina, a Russian girl.”
I sipped solemnly, contemplating the shitshow before me.
“Did you fuck Tatiana?” he asked.
“No way. I like my women to look like fucking women.”
Knowing that about James, I wasn’t sure how our friendship