Secrets and Lace: A Dark Romance Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 1) (5 page)

“No, I don't have cold feet.” I took his hand into mine and squeezed it. “I love you; I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I've never been more sure of anything before.”

“Should I get you something to drink before you tell me what's going on?” 

“No, I'm okay. I had a glass of wine on the jet.” I pulled my hand from his and turned to face him. “The past few days have been kind of difficult for me. Miles, I think somebody's blackmailing me.”

“What do you mean somebody is blackmailing you?” His eyes darkened.

I reached for my purse and pulled out the envelope. I removed the card and the piece of lace fluttered out, dropping to the carpet between my feet. My gaze followed it and I watched it for a moment.

Miles bent forward and picked up the lace. He held it between his forefinger and thumb, his brows knitted. “Is this... It's not what I think it is, is it?”

“It is. It's blood.” I handed him the card. “Someone’s been sending me these. It looks like a countdown to our wedding.” I took the card from him again and showed him the number on the front. “I received this one tonight. I... I tore up the first two.” I looked at him, searching his face for a reaction.

“Three days? Why in the world didn't you come to me with this earlier?”

I threw my hands in the air and let them drop onto my lap. “I don't know. I thought maybe it was a prank.”

Miles reached for the card again and turned it over and over in his hand, as though looking for some hidden message. “This can't be a joke.” He shook his head while holding my gaze. “You should have told me—we could have gone to the cops.”

I made a prayer gesture with my hands, pleading with him. “I thought if you knew, you would connect it to my job. I didn't want us to fight.” 

“Of course, that's exactly what I think.” He shot to his feet. “This must have something to do with your job. Someone you featured must want revenge.”

I buried my head in my hands. “I think you're wrong.” I looked up at him again. “Miles, I think I know who it is.” I allowed the words to settle between us.

“Well, who?” Miles shook his head in confusion. He tossed the card back on the couch.

I hesitated before saying anything. The last thing I wanted to do was get between Miles and Owen. I didn’t want to force Miles to take sides. What if he didn't take mine? “I think—I
know
it's Owen.”

Miles walked across the room to the desk and picked up a glass of water. He drank it in one gulp and turned back to me with his hands in his pockets. “That's ridiculous. Why would Owen do something like that?”

I stood up and went to the large windows, gazing out into the night, not appreciating the view this time. “You know as well as I do that he doesn't like me. I don't know what he says about me to you, but he's made it clear to me that I'm not the right woman for you.” I turned around, my arms folded across my chest. “He came over to the house a few minutes before I called you. He was drunk and passed out. I thought I'd look at phone to see if I could find something, any kind of evidence that he's involved.” I stopped talking and wrung my hands.

“Go on.” Miles went to sit on the couch again. “What did you find that confirms he sent you the cards?”

“Nothing. His phone was dead. He found me trying to switch it on.”

“So you didn't find any evidence. Just because he hasn’t warmed up to you doesn't mean he would do something so drastic.”

My chest ached. Miles was on Owen's side. “He said some things that made me suspicious.” I bit my trembling bottom lip. “But it's not just the things he says to me, it's the way he says them. He implied that I might pay a high price for what my magazine does to people.”

Miles didn't say anything for a long time, just sat there looking at me. What was going on inside his head? Was he agreeing with Owen? “You know what I think?” he finally said. “I'm pretty sure there are many people out there who want revenge for having their life stories splashed across the cover of a gossip magazine for all the world to see. You invade people's privacy. Do you know how many people you have hurt by exposing their lives?”

I sat down as anger rose up my throat. “So you think it's my fault this is happening? You know what I don't understand?” I shook my head in dismay. “You knew what I did for a living when we met. Why are you even with me?”

Miles ran a hand over his hair. “I love you. That's why—even though I don't like what you do for a living. I know the lengths people are willing to go when they're hurting. I live in constant fear for you.” He waved the card in the space between us. “This just confirms my fears.”

“Some of the people
Sage
exposes have done really bad things. People get attacked in the papers all the time. I haven’t heard of any becoming stalkers.”

“I don't care about what other magazines do.” He reached out and pulled me to him. “You're going to be my wife. I don't want to spend sleepless nights wondering if somebody's out to get you.”

“I don't think you have to worry about anything. I told you that. I think this is a one-off. And I know you hate to hear it, but my gut tells me Owen has everything to do with it.” I gazed into his face. “Can you at least talk to him about it? Tell him to stop?”

“You do understand what position you're putting me in, right? Accusing my friend of something so atrocious?”

“I'm your fiancée, and I'm afraid. I know this is uncomfortable for you, but I thought I would be your priority.” 

He placed my head between his hands and kissed me on the lips. “You
are
my priority. That's why I'm against what you do. I'm trying to protect you.” 

“And what I'm saying is that my job might have nothing to do with this.” I pulled away from him and stood up. “I'm telling you it's Owen, and you're defending him. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“Fine. I'll talk to him in the morning.” He clasped his hands together. “What if it
is
him? What then? Will you go to the cops?”

“No.” I shook my head. “He's your friend. I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Let me ask you another question. If it's not Owen, what will you do?”

I sighed. “I think it is him.” 

“Come here.” Miles reached his arms out and I walked into them, but his embrace didn't give me any relief. He had chosen Owen over me. That hurt.

“Promise me something,” he said into my hair. “If Owen has nothing to do with this, we’ll go to the cops.”

Tears burned my eyes. I held on tighter to him, afraid to lose him. He would never understand why I didn't want to get the cops involved.

 ”Promise me,” Miles repeated.

“I promise,” I lied. I had already made a decision. If I got another card, I would not tell Miles—not until I got to the bottom of this by myself. If it turned out Owen was innocent, I knew the place to go looking for answers. Much as it pained me, I'd have to go home, back to the place where my fears were born.

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Over breakfast in bed on Saturday morning, Miles gave Owen a call and put the conversation on speaker.

As I had expected, Owen denied everything. He threw a few curses over the phone for both Miles and me. Then he told us to fuck off by dropping the phone. 

“Great,” Miles said angrily, and tried to call him again. The call went to voicemail. 

We finished the rest of our breakfast in uncomfortable silence. Miles didn't have to say a word as he finished his eggs Benedict and then got ready to go to his meeting with the Vendet Group in the hotel conference room. It was obvious he was angry with me for driving a wedge between him and Owen.

“The meeting should be two hours at the most.” He fastened his cufflinks. “I think it's best we return home once I'm done.”

I nodded, my heart crashing. The romantic weekend had been canceled without my consent. 

In a way I felt guilty for accusing Owen. I had known him for a year and he had made threats before that had amounted to nothing. When Miles mentioned the piece of bloodied lace to him, he had been furious. 

Even though the knot was still tight in the pit of my stomach, I had to make things right with Miles. We would be getting married in a few weeks. This was not the time for us to be fighting. We should be excited about our wedding.

I went to help him with his tie. “Good luck with the Vendet Group.” I kissed him. “I'll come home with you, but I'll only be passing through to get my car and some more clothes. There's someplace I need to go for a few days.” 

“Going on a wedding shopping spree?”

I smiled bitterly. “No, I already have everything I need. You and Owen still need to go for a last fitting, though.”

“I'll do that first thing on Monday. So, where are you going?”

“Home...to Misty Cove.”

Miles cocked an eyebrow. “That's a surprise. I thought you never wanted to go back there.”

“I know. But it's time. There are some things I need to take care of.”

“I guess it's not a bad idea for you to get away from whoever is sending you those cards. I still think you should go to the cops, though.”

“I'll go to the cops if I get another card.”

“Good.” He kissed the side of my neck. “I'll come with you if you
do
go.”

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

The sun was setting when I arrived in Misty Cove. Holding my breath, I turned onto Broadridge Road, the one road leading to my childhood home from out of town. If there were any way I could avoid it, I would have. But I had no choice but to drive right through. If only I could close my eyes and drive blindly until I reached my destination.

Five minutes into my drive along the road, it started to drizzle. As soon as I turned on the wipers, the drizzle turned to gushing rain, the drops lashing against my windshield and roof. The sheet of water obscured the road, making it hard for me to see where I was going.

Had I been superstitious, I would've thought something was trying to stop me from coming home. If I could still call Misty Cove that. After a few minutes of trying to make my way through the storm, careful not to veer off the road, I slowed down and pulled off, parking on the shoulder. I’d wait it out until the rain subsided or I’d end up in a ditch somewhere.

Through the sound of the rain hitting glass and metal, the pounding of my heart still made itself heard, loud and clear. I wished I were anyplace but here. 

To distract myself, I turned on the radio and cranked up the volume. Classical music poured into the car, drowning my thoughts. I closed my eyes and tried not to think, telling myself that even though I felt like the old me, chubby Kelly was gone, and I was Chloe, the beautiful, successful businesswoman. But the little voice inside my head told me I'd always be Kelly, the desperate girl who had done everything she could to fit in.

My phone rang and I picked up on the fourth ring.

“I’ve been trying  to reach you all day. I hope everything is all right.” Tina already had a naturally soft voice, and I strained my ears to hear her over the rain.

“Sorry I missed your calls. I'm out of town. I'll be back in Boca Raton in two or three days. Is it urgent?”

“No, not really, I was finalizing the seating charts, and I remembered that you still hadn’t gotten back to me about your mom's attendance. Should I count her in?”

I took a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. One of the things I would have to face in Misty Cove was my mom. We had not talked for thirteen years, and I didn't look forward to seeing her. When I’d turned ten, she’d suddenly pulled away from me. While my bond with my father had been unbreakable, she became a stranger. There were times I even thought she was jealous of my close relationship with my father. And when my father died, she didn't offer me any kind of comfort. What kind of mom was jealous of her own child?

But could I really come to town and not see her? In a small town, I wouldn’t be able to pretend I didn't see her if I bumped into her. I’d spent the last thirteen years pretending she didn't exist, but how could I do that here? 

“I'll let you know in a couple days.” I changed the subject. “Did you manage to pick up my dress?”

“All taken care of. The seating chart can wait. Give me a call when you know.”

“Thanks. And Tina, I’m taking a few weeks off from work. Starting Monday, I won’t be in the office until after the honeymoon. I'll only be available on my cell.” 

“Got it.” 

Fifteen minutes later, the rain died down, and I was able to hear myself breathe. I started the car again.

When I drove past a bed–and-breakfast, it occurred to me that I had not made any accommodation arrangements. My childhood home wasn’t an option, not after all that had happened. A hotel would be the better choice for now. 

Driving through the small town, past pastel-colored cottages, I was glad most people in Misty Cove were already in their homes. It was the kind of town that slept early.

I stopped at a small four-star hotel ten minutes from Misty Cove High School. I would've preferred to stay at a hotel farther from my old school, but I was tired and wanted to sleep. A small thirty-something-year-old woman with two thick braids and equally thick glasses stood behind the counter at reception. She was so engrossed in her dog-eared novel that she didn't look up when I approached. I waited for a moment, pretending to be interested in the old, framed road map on the wall behind her. Then my annoyance flared.

“Excuse me. I'm sorry to pull you away from your book, but I need a room.”

Her head snapped up. “I'm so sorry.” As she observed my face, her face froze. It was clear she recognized me instantly, though I struggled to place her familiar face. How was she able to see past my much longer and straighter hair, my slimmer figure, and the expensive makeup and clothes and still see the old Kelly?

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, releasing the smell of chewing gum. “Aren't you... Aren't you Kelly Pearson? You look so different.” She stretched out her hand for a handshake. “We went to school together. I'm Jenna Simons.”

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