Skylar, igniting a media frenzy around the Sterlings that had only gotten worse during Brandon’s brief flirtation with politics.
My mouth fell open as I listened to all the ways that Matthew, with his good, strong core, had saved people that the rest of the world would probably assume could save themselves. The rich liked to believe that all their money could control the world and solve every problem. But it was humbling, really, to discover what a trap it could also be. Matthew offered them all a way to believe in good people again.
He really was their savior. Their white knight.
And maybe, in another world, he could have been mine too.
“That’s why we moved here, out of the city,” Brandon said when she was finished. “Better security, more privacy. We wanted to make a sanctuary for ourselves, but also for anyone else in our family who needed it.”
His words spoke to my soul. “How private is this, really?”
Brandon grinned. “As private as it gets.”
“Brandon runs an electronics lab right now that got a big government contract last year for spyware detection,” Skylar said proudly. “He tests everything out here.
“Well, it is one reason we don’t cut down the oaks,” she said frankly. “Even though it would be nice for the kids to have a little more grass to run around on.”
“Why, so press can fly their drones over to spy on us again?” Brandon spat. “I don’t fuckin’ think so, Red. Not with my wife. Not with my kids.”
I couldn’t help but admire his fierce protectiveness over his family. I had grown up in another protective family, but one that was more interested in its own preservation than the actual people within it.
What would it be like for someone, anyone, to stand up for my safety in that way?
What a gift, was all I could think.
Skylar seemed to know it too. She wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist and tugged on his shirt to pull his attention down to her. Brandon obeyed, and his gaze immediately softened as he leaned over to press his lips to hers.
“Do you love me yet, Red?” he murmured without a care in the world. Like I wasn’t even there.
Skylar’s upturned face shone with love and happiness. Nothing masked. Nothing hidden.
“Always,” she whispered before Brandon kissed her once more with a hum, then let her go.
“That’s lovely Matthew is so kind to you all,” I said quietly, suddenly missing Matthew’s touch more than I ever had.
“Well, he’s not exactly terrible to you, is he?” Jane asked.
I looked up. “I think you’re forgetting that he’s currently investigating my husband for trafficking.”
An awkward silence descended through the cottage. Jane looked wounded. Skylar darted a glance at Brandon, who nodded covertly.
“I’ll give you ladies some space,” he said. “Zola’s alone with the girls, poor bastard. They probably have him made up like Debbie Harry by now.”
Jane snorted. “Oh, I’d love to see that.”
“He won’t care. Little girls love Matthew, and he’s so good with children,” I said.
“Is that so?” Jane asked. “And…you know this because…?”
I flushed, immediately realizing what I had potentially given away. I cleared my throat. “Oh, um, at the white party. He was very kind to Olivia in the pool, remember?”
Skylar studied me. “Go on, babe,” she said to her husband. “We’ll be back in a little bit.”
Brandon left, and once we could no longer hear his heavy footsteps outside, both Skylar and Jane turned to me.
“Can I ask you something point blank?” Jane said. “Just between us.”
I frowned. “Okay…”
“Is Calvin guilty of any of the charges against him?”
I started, shocked that they would even ask me, particularly considering whom the third houseguest was. But as I looked between Jane’s and Skylar’s equally penetrating gazes, I found I didn’t want to hold back. These were not women who messed around. No pretense. No fakeness. Just genuine, unadulterated concern, but the kind that was unflinchingly honest.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “That’s the truth. But at one point when we first met…yes. Yes, he was involved with something along these lines. I also know that he tried for many years to become a part of that Janus organization—the one headed by John Carson. Since his death, though, I really don’t know about anything else.”
“Is he a good husband to you?” asked Jane.
I still couldn’t look away. “No. No, he is not.”
I had expected it to feel terrible. Expected guilt, dread, panic to consume me. But instead, the heavy weight that always seemed to be sitting